Chapter 8 #2
“I’m sorry. I…I got carried away. Ellard, I wish you would see yourself in the way I see you.” The words, while impulsive, grabbed his attention. His frown dispersed.
“How do you see me?”
“I see a good and loyal man, a feline with a true heart. I see someone who would do anything for his family or friends. I see a feline male I could love and trust.”
The silence throbbed between them, and she wondered if she’d gone too far.
“Women never take a second glance at me,” he said finally.
He watched her with his cat-green gaze, his attention solely on her. Her heart began to thud instead of simply beat. Thud, thud, thud. Impossibly fast.
“Who do they look at? What do you think they see?” she whispered.
“Before Jarlath found Keira, they looked at him, and the women from the upper level families decided if they paid attention to me, they might have a chance of Jarlath returning their interest. The felines we met and the ones we socialized with used me to get to Shiloh and Lynx. The House of Cawdor used me to put a plan in place to cut the House of the Cat off at the knee. The fact a beautiful woman paid attention shocked me, and I never looked deeper or asked the questions that might have stopped their plan.”
“You can’t let the past color your actions.”
“Why not? We learn by experience. It’s how we grow.”
“That’s true, but we shouldn’t feel sorry for ourselves either. People are blind not to see the real you. When you smile, your eyes glow. You have beautiful eyes, Ellard. Seeing you that way makes my heart beat faster, my insides turn to mush, and I start thinking about—”
“Don’t finish that thought.”
“You’re not frightened of a little frank talk about sex?”
His sharp intake of air and the subsequent gritting of his teeth made her pulse race even faster. “You’re too young for me, and you’re so beautiful. Looking at you makes my teeth hurt.”
Gweneth stared in astonishment. Was that a confession of his sexual attraction to her?
“What happens if you change your mind?” His low, impassioned words held fear and betrayal and truth, yet a thread of hope underpinned the emotions.
Gweneth sensed she might have a chance if she handled his objections carefully. A faint one, but she had to find the right words, which meant sharing part of her hidden self. “You think I’ll change my mind? That my feline is steering me wrong?”
“I think you’re young. You’ve spent time with Ry and Camryn, exploring different worlds during your voyage to Viros. You haven’t met many males your age. You should have fun rather than stress about your future.”
“I’m not too young to know my own mind.”
“There are hundreds of eligible males on Viros. The dragon shifters we met are interested too. I saw their stealthy glances, their appreciation of your beauty and brain.”
Pleasure suffused her at his words. He spoke of her intelligence. No male had ever complimented her in that way before.
“The lack of an arm is a handicap. My Stores made me whole, but losing it again has made me a liability. Don’t you want children?
I’ve thought about bringing up a child and how I’d do things differently than my parents.
But with one arm, it’s not easy to hold a child.
How do I teach my son? How do I pass on the knowledge I’ve accumulated with my physical restrictions? ”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not attractive. So what if you don’t have your brother’s or friend’s looks? So what if you’ve lost an arm? No matter what you think, you can’t let the horrible things from your past define you.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Forge a path for the future. Do it your way. Don’t let others try to tell you what you can and can’t do.
You’ve listed your shortcomings before, and I grow tired of your excuses.
You are an intelligent male, one of position.
You will fail if that is what you want. You can grow into a bitter old feline who snarls at everyone or you can embrace the life of your dreams. A child would be lucky to have you as their father. ”
Ellard flopped over on his back to stare at the fern roof of their shelter. “You make it sound easy, doable. It’s not that simple. You haven’t faced the same handicaps. You’re beautiful, and your looks make things much easier for you.”
“Crap,” she spat out. With one quick move, she straddled his hips and glared down at his startled face.
“I will tell you this once, then we won’t discuss it again.
” She ignored the surge of his cock beneath her bottom, the tensing of his big chest, and the watchfulness in his beautiful green eyes.
“My father is the governor of the planet Ornum. Ornum is an inhospitable hole—the armpit of the Citron universe. It’s where neighboring planets send their prisoners, those who have committed terrible crimes.
My mother was feline, yet she never shifted and didn’t bear a cat tattoo on her cheek.
I believe my parents were happy and had a good marriage, but my mother contracted an illness and died when I reached ten rotations. ”
“I’m sorry,” Ellard said. “That must have been difficult.”
“I still miss her every cycle.”
“You’ve made your point,” he said. “You had a difficult childhood. You can get off me now.”
“I haven’t finished,” she snapped.
Ellard fell silent, and she took that as a sign to continue.
“My father hired a nanny for me. Amme. He grew distant, and I believe that occurred because he missed my mother so much. The depiction I have of her—we look a lot alike. As I matured, the cat tattoo became visible on my cheek. My father didn’t approve.
The mark horrified him because it meant my mother had kept secrets from him.
He ordered me to wear a mask while in his presence or whenever I ventured from his mansion.
He insisted I cover my face.” Their gazes connected and held.
“I know how it feels to be judged for my looks. My father couldn’t bear to see my face, and whenever I went out in public, people whispered and gossiped about why I wore a mask.
How is that any different? People still stare at my tattoo, which is why I cover it with makeup sometimes or use a potion Mogens developed during our Earth visit.
” Her lips twisted. “Just so I can feel normal.”
“Your father ordered you to wear a mask?” Horror reverberated off each stiff word, and she could see his feline close to the surface.
At her clipped nod, his breath hissed free. He raised his hand to brush his fingers over the small black tattoo on her cheek.
“How did you come to join Ry and the Indy crew? I’ve always wondered.”
The question—one she knew would come—hurt all the same.
She braced as pain and shame struck at the heart of her.
She scrambled for equilibrium, but not before the backs of her eyes smarted, and her hands clawed into her thighs.
A foreign snarl echoed through her mind, shocking her as she recognized her feline’s distress.
Surprisingly, she became more aware of her with each passing cycle.
“Gweneth?”
She nodded in response, her thoughts tossed back into the past and the moment when her world had rocked off its axis.
She and Amme had returned from a shopping excursion in the better part of the town. They had entered the house and given their packages to the junior servant.
“Miss Gweneth,” the butler had intoned.
“Good morn, Gastonique.”
“The master wishes to see you in his study.”
“Thank you. I’ll go and change. I stepped off the path just as a wagon drove past.” She gestured at the muddy hem of her gown. “I won’t take long.”
“Your father wishes to see you.” Not a shred of expression crept into Gastonique’s stern and craggy features. “He has summoned me twice already.”
Gweneth nodded and stiffened her spine. Amme gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as she turned toward her father’s study.
Before she tapped on the carved wooden door, she took a sec to check that her fabric mask remained in position and none of her face would be visible to her father.
She sucked in a quick breath and tapped twice before pausing to listen for her father’s permission to enter.
“Come.”
She pushed open the door, stepped through, and after closing it again, she approached his large desk. He spoke on a communicator and spat directions at one of his aids like a robotic machine. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Two upright chairs sat in front of his gleaming black stone desk, but she knew not to take a seat. This meeting would be short. She stood to attention, hands clasped behind her back, gaze downcast. He would notice her muddy hem. He noticed everything.
After another series of orders to his aid, he disconnected.
“Where have you been? I requested your presence this morn.”
Gweneth stared through the eye slits of her mask.
Her father lacked presence, a short, squat man with an uncertain temper to make up for the shortcoming.
He ruled the prison planet of Ornum with a steel glove, and his underlings jumped to his every order.
She often wondered why her mother married him—that was until the cat tattoo formed on her cheek.
Her mother had kept secrets and taken them with her to the grave.
Sometimes, she wondered if her father intended to punish her or her mother.
“Answer me.”
“Amme and I did some errands. I required new masks.” A spurt of satisfaction filled her at the subtle barb. Her father could hardly castigate her since she merely followed his orders.
“I have decided to hold a hell-horse race. A special one to raise funds for the city.”
In other words, to fill his deep pockets. She didn’t think he required a response, so she remained silent.
“The race will be called the Dowry Derby, and the winner will receive a cash prize plus your hand in marriage.”
“What?”