Disgrace

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Disgrace Page 9

by Kit Bladegrave


  I slipped my hand into hers, not even certain what I was getting myself into, but a voice in my head said that whatever this was, whatever the reason Gabriella was brought into my life, I’d be a fool not to see this through.

  “I’m going to remind you that I am not good with others, or relationships.” I let go of her hand.

  “And who said I was?” Her lips quirked in a crooked smile. She resumed her seat by the fire, and I joined her, watching as she skillfully built the flames back up to chase away the morning chill.

  We should have been getting back to the castle, but out here, with only us and Rush, the pressure of my title and all that came with it fell away, so it was only Gabriella and me. Two demis who hid our true selves as much as we could from those around us.

  “Those tattoos, you got them to cover up the scars?” I asked.

  “I did, at least most of them. I kept a few visible.”

  “Why?”

  “To remember,” she mumbled. “To remind me of all I’ve been through.”

  “Your mother, I don’t understand, why would she do that to you?” I understood why Jaspen wanted to kill me, but he wasn’t the reason for the scars on my body.

  She tossed another few bits of kindling onto the fire, her eyes taking on a faraway gaze. “Tori was a witch and a healer for the people of Channon and the neighboring kingdoms. She was powerful, strong-willed, respected. She had high hopes of achieving greatness during her life and passing all she knew to an heir who was worthy.”

  “Why was that not you?”

  “Because Tori hated the gods, all the gods. Believed them to be selfish, spiteful. She wanted nothing to do with them.” She poked at the center of the fire and sighed heavily. “Alric seduced my mother. Let’s just say when he confessed his true identity to her, she was less than pleased to learn she carried the offspring of a god.”

  Those scars on her back, the symbols… my fingers dug into my thighs, imagining a mother doing that to her own child. “She tried to curse you?”

  She sneered, still staring into the flames as she told me, “She tried to strip the god out of me.”

  “That’s not possible,” I uttered, horrified.

  “No, it’s not, but she tried over and over again. Coming up with new spells, new rituals. No matter how much I screamed for her to stop, she refused.” She reached up and tugged on a long braid so hard I expected her to pull it out. “Then one day she was just gone. Abandoned me to the wilds.”

  “Alric didn’t come for you?”

  “Why would he? I was nothing, but the daughter of a barbaric witch who showed no natural magical ability. I was nothing special and not worth his time.”

  She pulled even harder on the braid until I reached up and gently caught her hand, stopping her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, unsure of what else I could say.

  “You didn’t torture me,” she replied, not taking her hand from mine yet. “I was taken in by the villagers and picked up what I could from them, then studied what Tori left behind. Taught myself the art of healing. I managed to get by and push down all the horrible days of my childhood.” She laughed sadly. “My optimism is a great cover for the turmoil still going on up here.” She pointed to her head.

  “No wonder you keep to yourself.”

  “I learned very early not to trust those closest to me. But living that way… it gets very lonely after a while. The wolves, they’re more my family than my sisters.”

  “I’m sure the conversations are much more enjoyable,” I chimed in, and she grinned.

  Our hands rested between us on the log now as the fire crackled.

  “Well,” she said roughly, “that’s my depressing upbringing. Now your turn.”

  I groaned, but she stared expectantly at me. “One thing, yes?”

  “That’s the deal.”

  “The scars you saw, several are from the war, but most… most are from when I was younger.”

  “Jaspen?”

  “No, surprisingly he never laid a hand on me,” I said, curious at how her hand tightened just a bit more around mine. “I was taken by Jaspen’s other bastards, and they held me for over a month. The scars… remnants of those days.”

  “That’s terrible. Why would they do that to you?”

  “Jealousy that I was seen as a prince and they were not, but my circumstance was a bit more complicated. My mother was the one who burst in and saved me, demanding I have protection from that day on.” I growled, remembering the argument that took place between her and Jaspen. “The king, Jaspen, did not approve, said it was no more than I deserved, but I was never taken captive again.”

  She reached toward my back, and I held my breath but didn’t pull away as she tugged up my shirt enough to see some of the scars. “Hattie mentioned something about you still having to fight for your claim to this kingdom.”

  “I’ve had my share of fights, yes.”

  Her fingers gently followed some of the harsher scars, and I bit the inside of my cheek, though a growl still slipped free. “Not so different after all.”

  I said nothing, lost in the sensation of her warm hand on my back, a place no one ever touched.

  “I can make a salve to make these less sensitive to touch,” she said, lowering my shirt again. “I perfected it over the years so my own wouldn’t bother me. If you like, I can make some for you and apply it.”

  “You still want to do something nice for me after what I said to you?”

  She smiled softly. “We outcasts have to look out for one another. Unless you truly don’t want me around. I can find a way to make myself scarce—”

  “No,” I said quickly, cutting her off. “No, I should not have said what I did. I want you to stay with me, be my wife, whatever that may mean for us both, I can’t say I know for certain yet, but… but I’m willing to try again if you are.”

  “I have nowhere else to be at the moment.” She gave a wink to soften her words.

  “Good, then why don’t I escort you back to the castle. I’m sure Hattie and Josef will be happy to see you return.”

  “You didn’t get mad at them, did you? For what they told me?” she asked as she put out her small fire and I picked up her pack for her.

  “At first, but let’s just say between you and Hattie, I will not be so rude as I was before.”

  Gabriella laughed as we started back to the castle, Rush trotting happily beside us. “I knew I was going to like her.”

  “And now I’m not sure I like the two of you being together,” I murmured, wondering what I’d just gotten myself into with this new deal of ours.

  Talking about myself, I was going to be telling Gabriella all my dark secrets, everything that ever happened to me. After what she told me about her mother, it was hard to decide which of us had the harsher past. I never let myself believe there was another out in this world who could understand what I’d gone through, yet here she was, walking alongside me as my wife.

  I thought I’d been ready for how this arranged marriage would change my life. I’d never been more wrong in my life.

  The following evening after dinner—a more talkative meal than before, as we were both in the room, at least for this one—Gabriella disappeared into the kitchens to continue preparing a salve. I hadn’t even thought that she would need a workspace, coming to live here, and began to make plans for where to put one, what she would need. My hand slipped into my pocket as I slowly wandered back toward my chambers, fiddling with the beads she’d given me. I kept them on me at all times, without even asking myself why.

  But since I had not gotten her anything, I was going to make this new workroom my gift to her.

  “You appear to be planning something, sire,” Josef said, catching up to me easily.

  “That I am. I will need your help to pull it off, I think.”

  “Does it have something to do with our new princess?”

  I smiled, only for a moment as I thought of Gabriella, but my thoughts turned dark, r
ealizing how many scars covered her body, if she had all those tattoos for that purpose alone. “Yes, it does. Something she deserves to have.”

  “Just ask, and I’m your demon,” he promised. “Will you be needing anything else?”

  “No, Josef, have a good night.”

  He bowed and walked away, leaving me to reach my rooms and go inside. I left the door open behind me, as I paced from one end to the other, grumbling to myself at what I was about to do. Out in the clearing, when Gabriella lay her hands on my scars, I’d been comforted as I had not been in so long. The sensation was new and strange to me. Having someone seem to genuinely care about me, not for my title, or judge for what I was in the eyes of so many. She had indeed suffered the same if not a worse fate than I had. She understood. I felt the first inklings of emotions completely new to me and knew the moment Ezra heard of this, I would never hear the end of how he was right. But it was still early, and the dynamic between Gabriella and I could always change for the worse. It was what usually happened in my life with those I hoped would care for me.

  “Holden?” Gabriella asked from the door, and I stopped my mad pacing.

  “Come in, please,” I said, waving for her to enter.

  “I have the salve.” She carried a deep, small wooden bowl in her hands. I peered inside. It was a dark, green substance, a bit grainy, and smelling of sage, lavender, and something sweet I couldn’t quite place. Except it reminded me of Gabriella and her cabin the night we wed.

  “Looks interesting,” I commented, and she smiled, but then her cheeks reddened, and her hands seemed a bit unstable.

  “If you could, uh… if you could remove your shirt? I’ll apply it and if you can, sleep on your stomach tonight. The air will be good for it. Wash it off in the morning,” she instructed, sounding less nervous and more like the healer she was.

  I removed my shirt and waited, but she hadn’t moved. I glanced over my shoulder to see an array of emotions filling those dark brown eyes, and I turned back around to hide my smile. Under the sympathy I’d mistaken for pity was pure want and admiration. Nice to know she found me as attractive as I found her, though I believed she was far greater than I in that area. She was so pure in the sense that she lived with nature, belonged to it. She wasn’t governed by the unspoken rules of the gods. She was real, and when her hand reached out and smoothed down my scarred back, it was like a calming balm touching me at the same time.

  I yearned to turn me around to face her and let her see more of me, but then I heard her quietly curse and then her hand was gone. When it returned this time, I sucked in a sharp breath at how cold the salve was.

  “Oh! Sorry, should have mentioned that,” she said, but I heard the smile in her words.

  “How much are you putting on?”

  “Covering them all. Trust me, after a week or so, the discomfort will lessen greatly.”

  “A week?”

  She chuckled, the unfamiliar sound in my chamber something I could quickly get used to. “It will be worth it, promise.”

  “I trust you,” I said honestly, and her hand stilled.

  “And I you.” She sounded surprised but fell silent as she completed spreading the salve over my back. When she reached the waistband of my breeches, I heard her breathing increase. I fidgeted, unable to stop myself from wanting to be closer. It was true I wasn’t close to anyone in regard to opening up about my life.

  The same could be said about physical contact. Any contact.

  Her hand pulled back, and she said she was finished.

  Before she could duck out the door, I turned around, and her eyes slipped to mine, holding my gaze steady before they went lower. I clenched my jaw as her hand reached out ever so gently and ran along my shoulder then down across my bare chest. There were a few scars marring the skin here, but those were from the war and never bothered me as the others did. She traced around my muscles, and my stomach clenched when she reached my abs, her lips twitching in a mischievous grin. When she raised her gaze, I saw her eyes dart to my horns.

  The first night we met, she’d wanted to touch them, but a demon’s horns were sensitive, another extension of me, like a hand. I’d stopped her then. I did not want to stop her now.

  She hesitated at first, but when I made no move to prevent her, she reached up. Her fingers delicately touched my right horn, and I became completely motionless, breathing in and out deeply through my nose.

  “It’s so smooth,” she whispered as her fingers glided along it. “I never knew horns could be this color.”

  “Mine are apparently very rare,” I told her, the words a strain to get out.

  “They’re magnificent.” She reached the point, and her hand fell away. Silently, I begged for her touch to stay, but her face was a new shade of red, and she fumbled the bowl in her other hand. Whatever had driven her to do what she did got the better of her nerves, and she took a step backward as if waking from a dream. “I… just don’t sleep on your back if you can,” she mumbled and turned for the door.

  I reached for her arm and slowly pulled her back around. “Thank you, Gabriella.”

  “Gabby,” she corrected softly. “Call me Gabby.”

  I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. “Gabby. Good night.”

  “Night,” she replied, and after a few deep breaths, she frowned and left me alone.

  The same bewildered thoughts flew through my mind the rest of the night as I lay on my stomach, feeling the salve tingle along my skin. What in all the gods’ names just happened between us?

  And why did I want it to happen again more than anything?

  For years, I swore up and down I was better alone, but three days with Gabriella… Gabby… and I realized how much of a stubborn demon I’d been.

  7

  Gabriella

  Holden was going to drive me mad, but at least this time, I sensed it was in a good way. Each evening ended with me in his chambers, applying another round of salve to his back. And each time, the tension between us grew until I was rushing to get out of there before I did something embarrassing. This night was no different. I walked right in, not bothering to knock since his door was open, and glanced around.

  “Holden?”

  “Here,” he replied, and I saw him before a full-length mirror in his chamber, staring at his back over his shoulder.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked, hurrying over. “You’re not having a bad reaction, are you?”

  I set the fresh salve down on the chest of drawers and ran my hands over his back, checking for any signs of a rash or other irritation. The skin appeared healthy, and many of the shallower scars had already disappeared. The deeper ones would take a few more nights at least, but his back looked far better than it did before.

  In my worry, I hadn’t noticed how still he grew beneath my touch, but when I looked up and saw those green eyes watching me, my breath caught. I flattened my hands on his bare back, and he breathed in deeply before letting it out the same time I did, both of us shaky.

  “I never thought my back would feel normal again,” he whispered.

  “It’s not uncomfortable anymore?” I asked, having to force the words out as I lost focus of what we were even talking about.

  “Barely.” He turned around slowly, catching my hands in his. He kissed the knuckles on both hands, and my toes curled against the cool, stones. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad it’s helping,” I replied, tilting my head back as I admired his braided hair, the way the torchlight shone against the smooth surface of his horns. He flattened my hands to his chest, covering them with his own and leaned in close. His lips brushed across my cheek, and my head moved all on its own. My lips brushed against his, and he kissed me, just as he had the night of our wedding when we both had given into the moment.

  I suddenly wanted to give into that moment again.

  But then he drew back, and I sensed his hesitation to get too close too fast. We were doing well, opening up to each other a
bout who we were and our lives before, but rushing it would only ruin our current progress.

  “Yes, well,” I mumbled as I put some distance between us. “I’ll put the salve on for you and then turn in for the night.”

  “Tomorrow morning, would you care to go hunting with me?”

  I smoothed the salve across his back, applying an extra amount near the worst scars as I pondered my answer. “I have not been hunting since coming here. It would be nice to get out again, see what this land has to offer.”

  “Or, I was thinking we could hunt in your kingdom. You must miss it.”

  “I do, and the elk in the mountains are quite extraordinary. Can you handle such cold and harsh terrain?”

  He turned enough so I could see his arched brow as he tugged on his beard. “Is that a challenge? Do you think I can’t hunt as well as you can?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not so certain yet.”

  “Then I accept this challenge. Let’s see who the better hunter is,” he growled, and my toes curled again as my cheeks burned under his intense look. “Shall we place a wager on it?”

  “If I win, you allow me to train the pups,” I said, and he grunted.

  “You believe you can handle so many?”

  “That I can. What do you want if you win?”

  “If I win… you will take me to the one who gave you your tattoos, so I can have several of my own done.”

  “That’s what you want?” I asked. “That’s it?”

  He leaned in closer as he murmured, “There are many things I want, Gabby, but I will settle for taking a page from your book. It’s time I stopped living in the past so much, express who I truly am now in the present. With you.”

  I grinned as he turned back around so I could finish with his back.

  “I think my mother loved my father as much as she loved Jaspen,” he said, but I kept applying the salve, not wanting to pull him from his musings. “He was more accepting of her wilder side, of the huntress she was before Jaspen claimed her as his queen.”

 

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