by Alice Wilde
“Is that all?”
“Yes. I shall see you at supper then,” my father says, giving me a slight smile.
I hesitate long enough to be swept from the room before I can think to reciprocate the expression. Damien is hugging my arm so tightly to his hard body that it forces me to move as one with him, which is difficult due to the sheer difference in our sizes, and he ends up dragging me most of the way.
We turn down a hall I am unfamiliar with and I abruptly find myself thrown up against the wall of a small alcove, my head hitting hard against the stone. I’m sure without the padding of braids beneath my cap my skull would have cracked.
We’re hidden from view of anyone who might happen to glance down the hall and I am unable to cry out for help. Damien’s body nearly crushing me as he presses himself firmly against me, his arms propped against the wall to either side of me. The terror coursing through my veins mixes unnervingly with the unknown sensation of a man’s body against my own.
“What did you say to your father?” Damien’s hot breath washes over my face as he slides his body down mine to look me in the eyes.
“Nothing,” I say, using what little air I can to respond while my head throbs in pain.
“Don’t lie to me,” Damien rumbles, his black eyes boring into me like holes. “I won’t abide lying, and if I find out you are lying—about anything—you will be severely punished.”
“I swear it,” I say, gasping for air. “On my mother’s grave, I swear I’m not lying.”
Damien relaxes and straightens without removing his body from mine but giving me enough room to allow me to breathe again.
“I believe you,” Damien says, taking my face in his hand and caressing my cheek with his thumb. My head fits easily into his palm, as if not a man but a bear was holding me.
I try my best not to move, but all want is to run.
“Look at me, Annalise,” Damien says his finger running gently over my lips. His touch tickles and I shiver uncomfortably. He seems to take it as a sign of pleasure, and a moment later, I feel his other hand against the curve of my hip. I wish I could scream, but my mouth is dry and my heart is in my throat.
I had always imagined my husband would be kind, a gentleman, and that we’d grow to know each other over time, finally falling madly in love. As beautiful as Damien’s face and body may be, everything feels wrong.
My breath catches as I feel the hand on my hip slowly begin to glide upward. New sensations wash over me, but they are spoiled by the bile rising in my stomach.
Damien’s face is close to mine, his black eyes boring into me, and I swear I can feel my soul being eaten alive. I manage to tear my eyes away when he finally blinks, but I can’t help but notice the smile at the edges of his lips. It’s as though he knows I’m afraid and is enjoying it. I remember seeing such a smile on the faces of the sort of boys who like to torture small animals. Wretched beings.
The hand on my face drops to my neck, and as easily as if I were a doll, he uses his thumb to turn my face to the side, revealing my neck to him. I begin to shake. I am unable to move my head, yet all he has pinned me with is a single thumb.
If only someone would find us, tear him away from me. I am growing ever more afraid that he will spoil me before the wedding, then where will I be? He could easily lie and say it wasn’t him, breaking our betrothal and sending the kingdom into turmoil. I’d be deemed unfit for queendom and banished, whether it be from the castle or to mistress of some noble.
His lips press against my neck, starting just below my jawline, gradually making their way lower. The other hand has stopped, resting just below my breasts as he occupies himself with my neck.
I gasp as a searing pain spreads across my neck. He bit me! The act sends my previously immobile body into action and one hand flies to my neck as the other shoves against Damien’s chest only to retract in pain as if I had punched a wall. He removes himself from me but only because he has chosen to do so. I pull my other hand away from my neck. No blood. Well, at least he didn’t break the skin, although I’m sure I felt a mark rising.
“I certainly hope this isn’t how you plan to behave on our wedding night,” Damien says, clearly annoyed with me.
“I…” I have no words, but tears well up in my eyes.
“Stop crying. I’ve only marked you as mine. I was never going to take you here. What’s the fun in that? I prefer a much large space to enjoy myself fully. Besides, I will not take your maidenhood before the wedding…unless you continue to anger me. Think of this as but a taste of what’s to come.”
He reaches out and I flinch, but his fingers find a loose strand of my hair and tuck it beneath my cap.
“Come. I am a busy man, I can’t wait around all day for you to stop behaving like a child. You know full well what your purpose is as a woman,” he says as he turns on his heel and makes his way back down the hall.
I can only begin to imagine what he does with the women he forces into his chambers. I’ve only known him less than a day and he’s already made me cry…and I haven’t been forced to lie with him yet. I raise my hand to my neck as I move to follow him, holding in the tears and allowing the fire of rage burning in my chest to grow. I make a vow.
I will be the death of this man, and by the gods, I will die before I willing lie with him.
Seven
Ero
Li won’t stop pacing and it’s driving me insane.
“I just know something is going to happen,” Li says.
“Perhaps, but what can we do? Nothing.”
“She needs protection, Ero. She needs us. I have to keep her safe. We have to keep her safe,” Li says, his pacing causing the chains to scrape against the floor, sending disagreeable chills down my spine.
I grit my teeth to keep my calm. “She’s not a child, Li. Annalise can take of herself for now. She has to. I can only imagine how you’d be reacting if Damien had decided to call on you this morning.”
Li growls and continues to pace.
Damien seemed especially inclined to call Roan out to get some teasing in this morning with Annalise. I’m sure he lacks so little of his own soul by now—if he still has any— that it’s a miracle he gets by at all without us.
It was no surprise to me that Roan chose to go into his beast to wait. Better that than stress all day about the part he’s playing in this deadly game. I can’t blame him though. I’ve been fighting the urge to tear myself, quite literally, out of my collar to chase down Annalise. I shake my head at the folly…no, the complete idiocy of the thought. The other women Damien has gone after never had any draw for me. All right, that’s a lie. There were certain desires, but they disappeared after a night in my beast. So either we’re going insane, or Damien has finally found the chosen one.
I may be the youngest of the flurry, but I’m definitely not the most easily moved. Annalise is lovely, I won’t deny it, but before I was cursed into this mess, I’d had my fair share of women. I mean, come on, females would quite literally throw themselves at me, and now we suddenly get a pat on the head and we’re head over heels for a girl? I just can’t accept it. They’re just feelings, forbidden desires, nothing more. There’s a logic to all this madness.
Love is a fool’s game. That was easy to see after I watched as my father murdered my mother along with the rest of my brothers and sisters. I only managed to escape the madness of my father thanks to my secret habit of climbing into a hidden space in the rafters to read. Ever since, I’ve never believed in love. Why destroy yourself over love when you can bed a woman without attachment?
I won’t say that I’ve never felt anything like this for a woman. I’ve felt it plenty of times. But all it takes is a good bedding to get rid of.
Now, if only I didn’t have that feeling for her. Not now, not when I can’t do anything about it.
The sound of a whimper startles me and I look over at Li.
“Did…did you seriously just whine?”
“You know how Damien is.
Every moment she’s alone with him is dangerous. His mood switches as easily as a pendulum.”
“Are you going to be like this all day?”
“I’ll never let her out of my sight again.”
“And how, exactly, are you going to manage that when we can’t even remove our own collars, let alone chains?”
Li growls but the sound manages to morph itself into a whimper.
“Damn it, Li. You’re supposed to be the calm one. If you’re bonding this easily, how are Roan and I supposed to handle everything when the bond grows stronger?”
“You’re right, but there’s something different about this one.”
“I know, and you’re our greatest defense against the magic. At least, you’re supposed to be.”
“And for heaven’s sake, Li,” Roan says, startling us both, “stop pacing. My head is killing me!”
Eight
Annalise
Thank the gods Damien was called away for some meeting or other. Although he insisted that he take me back to my room first. Now, here I am, curled up on my bed, once again locked in my bedroom. The scent of the lavender sprinkled through the bedding fills my nose and reminds me of the previous day. If only the door were locked from the inside.
My hand still clutches at my neck. I haven’t dared to look in the mirror yet. I’m too scared to see what kind of mark he’s left. I’m still shivering from the experience.
I’d always thought, least from all the stories I’ve read, that men start by kissing you on the lips. Not with wandering hands and hard bites, and certainly not after being shoved angrily against a stone wall.
At least pain in my head has subsided to a dull throb.
I slowly raise myself into a sitting position. I’ll most likely be called to dinner later so there’s little sense in undressing. The leopards are watching me. If I’m going insane, they must already be mad with boredom.
I get up and cross the room to my mirror, finally dropping my hand from my neck to check the damage. A trio of growls rise from the leopards, but I’m too focused on the image in the mirror to tear my eyes away.
I grit my teeth. It’s true, he didn’t break my skin, but the mark he’s left is perhaps worse. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, except once.
A memory from my childhood. I’d been running through the kitchens, chasing Rosa as we prepared to go out for the day, when I bumped into the cook. Her hand reached to grab me before I could hit the floor, but I screamed and her hand flew back. I’m embarrassed and ashamed to think of my reaction now, but her hands were covered in deep red burns…exactly matching the mark on my neck now.
I can’t fathom it. How could he have burned my neck with his teeth? The more I look at the teeth marks, and if I didn’t already know better, I’d think a bear had bitten me. I wonder if I’ll always have this mark or if it’ll fade with time.
A sound pulls me from my spiraling thoughts, and my eyes finally shift to the leopards. They’re all watching me, but the violet-eyed leopard is whimpering.
I walk over until I’m close enough to touch him. As I reach out, I am surprised that he moves his head to meet my hand, nuzzling it gently. I smile for the first time all day. Dropping to the floor, I throw my arms around him as he lets out a low vibrating sound. His hot breath streams across the nape of my neck and for a moment I wonder if he’s thinking of eating me, but I feel no fear. Then, his rough tongue is moving carefully across the mark on my neck.
Instinctually, I want to cry out in pain, but there is no pain. If anything, the burn-like sensation has nearly disappeared and grows fainter with ever pass of the leopard’s tongue. A few licks later, he stops and shifts away from me, cocking his head to the side as if he’s examining my neck. Seeming satisfied, he drops his gaze and starts to lick away at the fur on his broad chest, making him look more like an oversized house cat than a wild beast.
I stand and return to the mirror, curious to see what, if anything, has changed. The mark is still there, but it is no longer a fiery red. It is nearly as white as if it were just an old scar, albeit a very large and obvious one.
I think the leopards and I are going to get along just fine.
Nine
Li
Son of a…My thought trails off in a growl of anger. That repulsive, vile, idiot of a man. He actually marked her!
I knew something was wrong when she returned and immediately curled up on her bed, but I couldn’t smell blood, so I thought perhaps he had been wise enough not to touch her. Fool that I am.
The bite didn't break her skin, but that doesn’t matter with a mark. It quite literally burns itself on you. Each of us has one as well, though ours weren’t inflicted in quite the manner hers seems to be. I shudder in anger as I try not to imagine how he forced himself on her. It’s clear she didn’t want whatever the experience was from the red rimming her eyes.
I can’t help but whimper.
The mark will never leave her, but if she will give me the chance, I can ease the pain of it. Ah, yes, she’s looking our way now. I keep up my soft whimpers and try to comfort her with my eyes, though I’m sure I just look ridiculous. I raise my head to meet her hand as soon as she’s within the limits of my chains, nuzzling her in a way I hope comforts her.
To my surprise she drops to the floor and throws her arms around me. I freeze for a moment. She doesn’t know how dangerous this is. Not because I would ever want to harm her, but because the human side of me is instantly on fire for her. My desire to have her nearly throws all my good sense out the window. It takes every ounce of control left in me not to pounce on her as my breath mixes with the scent of her skin.
My voice vibrates with the tension and I can only hope she takes it as purr and not the call to mate that it really is. I have to concentrate on the mark. I nuzzle her until she moves enough for me to be able to touch the mark. I steal myself and then gently drag my tongue across her skin. She tenses, but only for a moment. The taste of her skin sends blood coursing throughout my body. It is a rare moment when I’m thankful for the thick white fur clothing me.
I do my best to clear my mind, instead concentrating on the task at hand and making sure I don’t lick her hard enough to take the skin off.
Before I was cursed, I spent many years training as a healer, among other things. Thankfully, whatever magic I managed to develop in that time seems to have translated over into this body, though so far it seems to be limited to healing visible wounds and easing pain. There’s nothing I can do for internal wounds or illness.
I feel the mark crust and then soften under each pass of my tongue. I finally pull away from her embrace when I can do no more. I try to feign cat-like innocence by preening the fur on my own chest, but I can’t keep from peeking to make sure the mark has healed.
A fierce hatred for Damien rises up in me as my eyes trace the scar the mark has left, but I’m surprised when I see the scar has healed far better than any I’ve tried to heal before.
I can feel my bond to Annalise growing stronger, and it frightens me how much I want her, but know I shouldn’t…
Whatever it takes, I swear on my family’s souls, I will make Damien pay for hurting her.
Ten
Annalise
I had always heard animals could have a healing effect on us, but I hadn’t expected the meaning to be so literal. I’m not sure how long I remained staring at the lines of the scar on my neck after it was so shockingly healed, but as soon as I could pull my eyes away, I grabbed a book from my night table, Dress and Other Courtly Mannerisms, and I returned to the leopards. Curling up on the floor beside them, I soon fall asleep, elegant hairstyles, codpieces, and two-foot-long shoes dancing about in my mind, feeling safer than I’ve felt since Mother died.
A hard knock at my door wakes me, I try to sit up, only to find a massive paw stretched out over my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the leopard was holding my breast on purpose.
The light in the room has dimmed, so it must be growing c
lose to supper. Unable to move, I wait for the door to open, as I’m sure it will. No one ever really waits for an answer.
A moment later the door swings open and I hear a gasp. Quick footsteps rush toward me and I find myself looking up into Miriam’s face. Thank the gods.
Her expression looks relieved, though she doesn’t say anything. She turns and walks away, soon returning with the handler from the day before. They move in almost perfect synchronicity as they pry me from the leopard’s sleepy paws. Miriam begins to touch up my hair and I watch as the handler replaces the thick chains with jewel-encrusted leather straps matching the leopards’ collars. I almost don’t notice the angry red welts running down the back of his arms as they were nearly hidden by his leather vest. I wonder if those were inflicted by my betrothed after he had found that the heavier chains had not been replaced the night before.
“Ouch,” I say involuntarily as Miriam accidentally pricks me with a cap pin just as Damien enters my room, followed by my father’s guards, as usual.
“Did she hurt you,” Damien asks, his voice cold as he steps toward me.
I can feel Miriam’s hands shaking as she continues to try to pin my cap in place.
“It was nothing. I’m just not used to pins,” I say, my stomach turning this time for fear of what he might do to her instead of me.
He’s closed the distance between us in a few short strides, inspecting the side of my head as he does so. His fingers brush against the cap where Miriam pricked me.
I am suddenly aware of the leopards’ low growls, though Damien seems to disregard them in their entirety. As he pulls his fingers back, I see just the slightest hint of blood on them. His face distorts as he brings it to his mouth…and tastes it.
He shudders, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to tear me limb from limb.