by Mary Auclair
His heir, the child in her belly.
“You are not to leave these rooms until the threat from the Knat-Kanassis has been dealt with. Dalgo had news from the other High Lords of North America. Many have started to see attacks on their population. Open conflict is but a breath away.”
“So you still have no idea who is at the head of this threat?” Endora pursed her lips, then shook her head. “We cannot live our lives in fear. The children and I need to be able to walk freely in the castle, in the gardens, if not the courtyard. Even for an hour.”
“There will be no more discussion on the subject. I forbid it.” He straightened, forcing his voice to project the icy tones of the High Lord—the man he had more and more difficulty being when he was with her.
Endora’s eyes widened and her small hands closed into fists in her laps. Aldric watched it on her face, that perfectly readable hurricane of emotions waging war on her grip on her temper. His member stirred to life as he surveyed that mouth, those breasts, enlarged with the fullness of impending motherhood, heave up and down to the rhythm of her breathing. His mind filled with an image of himself ripping the bodice of her dress to shreds. Taking her body with a savage tenderness, make her eyes cloud over and her lips beg for the release of pleasure. He clenched his fist to refrain from grabbing her slender neck and losing himself to the lust.
Gods, I want her. I want to possess her even more now than before.
Slowly, Endora got to her feet, her eyes never wavering, her head straight and her chin proud. She was so close, her heat seared through his clothes, her breath coming in intoxicating waves up to his face. So small, so fragile, yet so brazen.
“I’m not one of your soldiers.” The words slipped through her mouth, full of rage. “I’m not yours to command.”
The words had the effect of a gust of wind on his mind. Something dark and deep bared its teeth inside him, where the beast resided, just under the fragile layer of civility masking the dragon behind the man.
“I am your Lord, and I am your mate. You are mine to command.”
Endora scoffed, her mouth opening only a fraction. He stared at the pink tip of her tongue, rage and animal instincts coursing through his bloodstream. The beast in him raged to exert his control on his mate, make her pliable and docile so he could protect her and the young life inside her.
“You might not be able to fight this threat for years.” Endora stepped away from him and he stifled his impulse to grab her. Keep her close. “Do you have any idea what this will do to us?” She shook her head, spreading that long hair over her shoulders, then stared sharply at him. “You’re right. There’s not much I can do against the High Lord. You can keep me and the children locked up in here like prisoners, if you want. But know this: if you do this to us I will never forgive you.”
A cold grip closed around Aldric’s chest, immobilizing the beast in sudden assessment. Aldric swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Was this what had made his mother loathe his father so much? Had Dierno Darragon gone into protective fits, stifling that young, lively woman Junco had told him about until there was nothing left of Ela but the cold shell of a woman?
“I am willing to have you furious with me if it’ll keep you safe.”
Aldric took a step back, then turned toward the door. He couldn’t look into those gorgeous eyes, into the depth of hurt he saw in them, at the betrayal he sensed underneath. In a few fast paces, he was at the door, his hand around the handle.
“You say you’re willing to have me furious with you.” Endora’s voice was laced with softness and pain, and with an edge so sharp it stabbed through his heart. “But are you willing to have me hate you?”
Aldric turned, locking gazes with her. There she stood, alone in the room, hugging the sides of her woolen shawl around her like she longed for his embrace but couldn’t say it. The children stood in the open door to the other room. He hadn’t even heard it open, he had been distracted by his fight with Endora. Shari and Tallie stared, quiet fear in their large, innocent eyes, Rasha unusually tame at their side. Henriette’s knowing, old eyes were set on him. The weight of the old woman’s judgment in that moment made him flinch. She knew. Henriette knew it took more strength to give Endora the freedom she so clearly needed than he had.
No one tried to stop him when he left the room.
Chapter 20
The door to the bedroom closed behind her and she was finally alone. Hours had passed since Aldric left. Hours spent with the children and Henriette in a quiet, subdued state. All that time, she’d held her head high, had her emotions under control in a carefully tight ball just at the base of her throat, where she had to take care not to let them escape.
Once she was alone, that ball uncurled and spread and she was powerless to stop the racking sobs from breaking through. She fell to her knees, and gave way to the deluge of hurt that had been building inside her. For a long time she cried, holding her sides and weeping silently, until finally she was void of tears and full of a slow burning, searing sorrow that had no use for something as useless as tears.
He didn’t care. He only cared about control and the child in her belly. He didn’t see how hurt she was, how much the children hurt. She was nothing but a toy to him, a distraction he could bring out whenever his lust commanded it. She wasn’t a person, just a woman. A means to an end, when all was said and done.
I’ve been so stupid.
How could she have been so stupid as to believe he loved her? Hadn’t she learned from her mistakes all those years ago? Men loved as easily as they slept and ate. As easily as they fucked. His tenderness, his soft words, they meant nothing. She’d allowed herself to fall for him, and it was her own fault if she was hurting.
Endora braced her forehead against the coolness of the wooden door, allowing its smooth surface to ease her pain. If only she could be like the wood, like the rock of the mountain. Uncaring for those living in its belly, burrowing like ants inside its flesh.
Her fingers closed around Tallie’s necklace, her thumb rubbing the smooth surface.
“Nobody matters like you.”
She whispered the old words, but as she did, they didn’t sound right. Tallie mattered. Tallie was an anchor in her otherwise free-falling life, but she wasn’t the only one anymore. Shari, with her open, giving little heart mattered. Rasha, who cuddled and purred at bedtime on her lap, mattered. The child who grew in her belly, innocent of all the evil lurking around, mattered, too.
Aldric mattered.
As much as she wanted to shield her heart from him, from that smothering dominance he wanted to lay upon her life, she failed. He ripped a part of her heart away with his touch, with his raw need. It didn’t matter that it was only the illusion of love. She’d fallen for it, with all her soft, stupid, human heart. Her hand left Tallie’s necklace to brush over the dragon scale bracelet enclosing her wrist. A shaky breath escaped her lips, and her heart shriveled under the weight of the realization.
Gods, I love him.
A knock on the door tore her from her inner torment, and she hastily rubbed her eyes clear of tears. There was nothing to do about the redness and puffiness that was sure to be there, but Henriette wasn’t a fool. She would have known Endora needed that time by herself, and now she came, offering her comfort and strength when it was needed the most.
Henriette matters.
Endora breathed deeply, and gathered the scrambled ruins of her courage to project some semblance of a countenance. “I’m coming.” She pulled herself to her feet and opened the door to find herself facing Henriette, whose expression was closed off, and behind her, a tall woman clad in gray.
“Mistress Hael.” Endora frowned. The governess was the last person she wanted to speak to. “What brings you here? The children are sleeping.”
“I know, Lady Endora. I am so sorry to disrupt your evening.” Mistress Hael’s pale yellow eyes gleamed with dislike, but her mouth stretched in what was supposed to be a gentle smile. “It appears I received
a message for you.”
“You received a message for me?” Endora watched as Hael pulled a folded piece of paper from the folds of her dress. She eyed the letter, instantly suspicious. “Why would someone give you any message for me? You have been dismissed of your function here at the castle. You should have left weeks ago.”
“I am aware.” Hael’s voice grew distorted, high-pitched and layered with a hiss, like a feral cat. Dislike turned into hatred in those pale eyes. “I was given this message by a person who claims he is from the same village as you. He’s a human.”
Endora’s eyes widened and her fingers closed around the paper before her mind registered she did so. A name hovered in the distance of her mind, and she hoped with all her might that it wasn’t right.
She read the few lines, scribbled in a neat hand that she knew only too well. Her eyes shot past Mistress Hael to meet Henriette’s. “It’s Wilmer.”
“What could he want? Especially now.” Henriette took the proffered letter and read the words, her mouth hanging slightly open as the surprise made its way inside her mind. Her sharp, frightened eyes met Endora’s. “You can’t do this.”
“It’s going to be Tallie’s only chance to meet her father.”
Henriette folded the paper, then walked briskly to a nearby pile of heating crystals and laid the paper on top. It sizzled and caught fire, soon turning into black, meaningless ashes.
“He left you. Left Tallie.” Henriette shook her head, her back turned to Endora. “Whatever his reason for coming back now, you can’t believe it’s anything good.”
“I know.” Endora’s eyes trailed to the children’s bedroom door. The child was sleeping, unaware and safe. Healed. All thanks to Aldric. “But it’s going to be her only chance. She never met her father, and if I turn him down now, she never will.”
“It’s dangerous.” Henriette rubbed her knuckles, the old hands twisting fast in her fear.
“I can take Raeg with us.”
Henriette’s eyes strayed to the door, where the bodyguard waited outside, unaware of the betrayal taking place inside, then her eyes met Hael’s again. Finally, she looked at Endora and nodded. As scared as she was, Henriette knew that Tallie’s chance at meeting the man who’d given her life was too important to simply discard.
“He said to come alone.” Mistress Hael’s voice was matter of fact but her fingers tugged at a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of her dress. “The bodyguard might scare him away.”
“It’s a risk I’m ready to take.” Endora turned to Tallie’s door. “Wait outside. I’ll get Tallie.”
Aldric stared at the remnants of the once ornate desk in his office, the pile of useless wood now lying in broken splinters on the floor, smoking where they touched the small pile of heating crystals.
His mind was a blank. No coherent thoughts pierced through the rage, the unbridled fury, foreign and unwelcome, lashing into his mind. Never before had emotions threatened his sanity this way.
She’s going to hate me.
The thought came through the haze, and pain bit down. He turned and braced his hands on the cold stone, waiting for the agony to pass. Only it didn’t. It spread and sharpened until he felt like a red iron was poking through his ribcage.
There was a noise from behind, and Aldric turned. His hands closed into fists so tight it hurt, and his body rippled with the unreleased tension of violence. Whoever was about to come into the room had better have a good reason to disturb him.
“Looks like you’re handling this pretty well.” Dalgo strode in, raising his brows at the utter destruction of the room. “I like what you did with the place. It was way too tidy.”
“Leave me alone.” Aldric turned his back to Dalgo, not wanting to get into an argument with the only other man in the castle who would dare to challenge him when he was in such a foul mood. “I’m not in the mood for your doubtful humor.”
“Good.” Dalgo approached, despite the warnings. “I wasn’t intending to be funny. Can I assume your recent remodeling has something to do with the fact that you’ve imprisoned Endora and the children inside their rooms for over a month?”
Aldric’s shoulders slumped. Dalgo had been against his order to sequester Endora and the children from the beginning. His prediction, when he said Endora would come to starve for freedom way before he ever dealt with the threat, had been right. Aldric might never fully destroy the Knat-Kanassis after all, and a lifetime spent inside just a few rooms would rapidly turn to misery. And misery led to resentment and hate.
“I can’t allow her to get out.”
“Can’t? You’re the High Lord of Katanie. You can if you want to.”
Aldric turned and faced his friend.
Dalgo stood in the middle of the ruins of the office, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes sharp and stubborn. He wasn’t backing down from the confrontation. “She’s pregnant. Maybe she just needs to get out for a few hours.”
“I’m well aware of how delicate her condition is.” Aldric didn’t try to hide his frustration, speaking in harsh, fast tones. “She’s in a weakened state, always throwing up, losing weight. The doctors say the first four months are the most important, where there is the most chance of her starting to reject the fetus. Her mental state is as important as anything to prevent the toxicity.”
“And how do you think she feels now?”
Aldric grunted, but as soon as his friend said it, he knew he had overreacted. His protective instincts were set loose where Endora was concerned, and since the pregnancy, he had all the self-control of a stray cat protecting its territory. He was abrasive and unyielding, he knew that. He’d hurt her, but maybe it wasn’t too late. He could still go back. Escort Endora, Henriette and the children into the gardens with Rhyl. The dragon and he would be ample protection in conjunction with the high stone walls enclosing the square space. They could go back every day. The risk would be only minimal when they walked the hallways and crossed paths with the servants and guards. Minimal, but not gone altogether. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t done it sooner. The very idea of his mate or the children being hurt made his teeth grind with rage, but he knew it was impossible to avoid. Making the same mistakes as his father was all too easy. Fighting his baser instinct was the only way to ensure the ones he loved would grow not only safe, but happy.
This was his defining moment, he could sense it.
Aldric moved for the door.
“My Lord, Captain Dalgo!” A young guard barged in, turning fear-crazed eyes to them. “There’s an attack! A full army of the Knat-Kanassis clan. They’re killing everyone.”
The young guard turned and ran, and Aldric rushed after him, Dalgo on his heels.
Endora held Tallie’s hand as they followed Hael to the courtyard, escorted by a silent Raeg. Tallie was bleary eyed and half asleep on her feet, but the girl hadn’t made a fuss when Endora pulled her out of her bed. It was better this way, without waking Shari and Rasha.
The wind blew, whispering its warning in Endora’s ears as they approached the courtyard, the searing cold of the February night making her skin prickle with goosebumps. She’d put on her new wool coat as well as her woolen shawl, but the damp cold still reached inside her clothing. At her side, Tallie shivered violently, the movement reaching all the way up to her hand. The girl, too, had an extra layer of warm clothing to protect her from the cold, but she was small and willowy, the results of her sickness still visible in the too thin limbs and the remnants of bruises down her arms and legs. She was so fragile.
I shouldn’t have done this.
Endora was torn between the desire to turn back and tell Hael she could say whatever she wanted to Wilmer, and keep walking. But if she cost Tallie her only chance, her daughter might never forgive her. She might never forgive herself, either.
Endora pulled Tallie closer, closing an arm around the frail frame of the little girl to infuse some of her own heat inside her.
Then Mistress Hael pulled the heavy wooden d
oor open and they arrived at the courtyard. Mistress Hael stepped outside into the open space, but Endora held back, holding Tallie tight in her embrace.
At their backs, Raeg’s presence was a silent shadow.
The courtyard was strangely still. Not a breath of air disrupted the eerie stillness of the night. The full moon shone overhead, its silver light casting harsh shadows that stretched into the square like hungry hands, hiding whatever was waiting in a blanket of darkness.
Her heart beat faster and her throat became dry. This could be a trap, and she could have dragged Tallie right inside it.
“What are you waiting for?” Hael turned, her thin silhouette enshrined in moonlight. Only her pale eyes were visible under her hood and they reflected the light like a cat’s.
“Where’s Wilmer?” Endora’s tight, pinched voice sounded wrong. Scared; she sounded scared. In her arms, Tallie moved to look up at her and Endora glanced down. Her daughter’s eyes were large and soft, full of trust.
“Just come with me, will you?” Hael gestured sharply, her yellow eyes gleaming with impatience.
“I think not.” Endora took a step back, not taking her eyes off the ex-governess. “We’ll be going back to our rooms now. Tell Wilmer he has to find another way.”
Hael tilted her head to the side, her thin, pale face taking on a predatory look. She uncrossed her arms, then reached inside the folds of her long coat.
We need to go back—now.
Endora turned, half-dragging Tallie behind her.
Then she met Raeg’s large chest.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Endora lifted her gaze to find Raeg glaring down at her, his lips twisted in an upside down curve and his eyes glittering with something that struck fear inside her chest. Something she knew only too well. Disgust. Disgust and hatred, rooted in her very existence as a human woman.
Behind her, Hael moved, her steps click-clacking on the frozen stones. Endora twisted her head to find the same hatred etched on every inch of the woman’s features. Hatred so blazing it bordered on insanity.