Chapter Seven
Beck
She won’t touch me.
I try to keep my face painfully passive as I march back to
the tent Reeve put together for the compatibility ritual. If everything went as
it should have, I would have taken Meg back to this tent and very gently,
respectfully made love to her in front of two witnesses. Reeve would have been
one, and the vampires would have selected one. It’s a simple ritual to prove I
can take care of her sexually.
Instead, I proved I’m an animal.
Now she won’t look at me, and I don’t blame her. I have to
hold her tight because she refuses to put her arms around my neck.
All in all, not how I thought my wedding day would go.
Cara is at the door to the tent and holds it open as she
eyes us. She looks at the pale female in my arms. Damn it. She’s looking with
pity on the woman I just married. I treated her like a whore. I sigh inwardly,
avoiding Cara’s eyes. The truth of the matter is I would never treat a whore
the way I treated Meg.
I lay her down as gently as I can on the bed prepared for
us. It’s covered with thick, soft blankets and pillows. Flowers have been
strewn—marigolds, St. John’s Wort, and shamrocks. It’s a lovely setting and
would have made a beautiful bridal bed. Instead, I shoved her to her knees in
the middle of a bloody arena and throat-fucked her in front of a crowd.
I try not to think about how soft and sweet she looks lying
on the bed. There’s nothing I want more than to climb into bed beside her and
attempt in some fashion to make up for the way I treated her. I want to kiss
her and hold her. I want to tell her how much she already means to me. I want
to beg her forgiveness and promise to never, ever treat her that way again.
She won’t believe me. I’m obviously a man of no honor. I
proved it in the arena today. If I had a shred of honor, I would walk away from
her now. I can provide her with nothing but a dying brother and a ramshackle brugh
on a meaningless plane of existence. I should allow Dante to take her to his
plane. At least there she’ll be fed, clothed, and taken care of.
The thought sends a rush of rage through me. It’s still
there. The fight. It’s still coursing through me, though now it’s tempered with
self-loathing. For the briefest moments I felt peace. When Meggie took all my
rage into her own sweet soul.
Yeah, I feel like shit about that, too.
“Clean up.” I don’t mean for the words to come out as
harshly as they do, but I can’t take them back. I need space, but I don’t have
time. The situation with Cian is serious. “We leave in an hour.”
“Sire,” Cara blurts, a startled expression on her face.
“Surely you cannot expect your bondmate to travel this evening.”
I stare down at the gnome. I was raised to be a king, and
though I am no longer that man, there are times I expect to be obeyed without
question. It is bred into my character. A king never explains his actions, even
when they are wrong. I’m sure Cian would have knelt and explained himself to
the small woman, but then Cian would never be in this mess in the first place.
Cian would never screw up so badly with a woman that she couldn’t stand to look
at him.
“If you have a problem with it, I’ll take her now,” I say
softly.
The gnome holds her ground, but I can see it costs her. “No,
Sire. I will make sure she is ready for the long and arduous journey.”
I stride to the door. I need a bath, but I won’t disturb
Meg’s. If things went as planned, I would have cleaned her up myself. I would
have shown her how tender I can be. I would have eased into the hot tub with
her, kissed her, and washed her hair. I would have bonded with her.
“If she runs, I’ll hold you and yours personally
responsible,” I growl. I’m somewhat satisfied by her nervous nod.
I know I’m being what my cousin would call an asshole, but I
can’t help it.
The waning sunlight is still hot on my skin. That will
change. By nightfall the forest will be cold. If I take her out there, she’ll
have no choice. She’ll have to cling to me for warmth and protection.
Perhaps out in the forest she’ll begin to learn to trust me.
I stride through the market, ignoring those who call out
greetings. I don’t want to hear about my soon-to-be-legendary victory. The damn
bards will be singing about it soon enough. They have no idea how close that
victory came to being a bloodbath. Only Meg’s sweet hand stayed me, and she
paid for her interference. I leave orders with the stable boy to get my horse
ready then make my way to the river that runs near the marketplace. I toss my
shirt, boots, and trousers on the grass and dive in where I know the water is
deep and cold.
The chill hits my system like a bloody winter blast. I grit
my teeth against the bite of pain along my skin. I dive deep, refusing to come
up for air or warmth. My lungs can handle it. I wrap my hands around the strong
reeds, anchoring myself to the bottom. It’s quiet here. There’s no incessant
chatter. There’s no one to constantly remind me of duties that are no longer
mine. They don’t understand. I have been the deposed King of the Seelie for
almost half my life now. Can’t they leave me be?
I watch a small school of fish swim by. The river is
remarkably clear and lovely. It reminds me of the river that runs by the white
palace in Tír na nòg. Mother would take me, Cian, and our sister Bronwyn down,
and she would sit with her ladies while we swam. Cian would splash our sister
and tease her mercilessly, but I wasn’t allowed to join their fun. I was
expected to act the king always.
“Eyes are always on you, son,” my father would say.
“They expect Cian to act the fool, but you must be the warrior king every
minute of your life.”
What would my father have thought of my actions on this day?
Would he understand that life had dealt me a horrible set of cards and I played
them the only way that made sense? Or would he turn away from me in shame?
I rather think it might be the latter.
All of my life I was trained to ruthlessly hide the beast
that lives inside me. My mother always told me that symbiotic twins were
considered powerful, but everyone knew they were difficult to raise. The
warrior half requires balance to stop his violent nature from running wild. The
intellectual half needs grounding or he spends his life in daydreams. It’s only
through bonding with a proper mate that the two halves can truly live balanced
lives.
The bonding is a sacred act. It’s a gift from the bondmate
to her husbands. It is to be treasured and revered.
I forced it on her when she doesn’t even understand what
she’s accepting.
Finally my lungs burn, and I allow myself to float toward
the light. I break the surface, taking a deep breath.
“I was wondering if you were going to put in an appearance
or if you would allow the kelpies to take you.” Dante sits against a large
tree, his long legs spread out in front of him. He has his tablet out. Like
many vampires, Dante is almost constantly attached to his computer. He’s always
looking for downloads, better known as DLs. DLs consist of everything from
entertainment to education.
“There aren’t any kelpies here.” I smooth my long black hair
back and hope it doesn’t tangle too much. “There are some in the forest, but
none this close to a village.”
The forest where I’m about to take my Meg is considered a
bit dangerous. It’s full of all sorts of nasty creatures.
Dante tosses me a bar of soap. It’s pink. The vampire
probably stole it from the females’ tent. Still, it will take the stink of
battle off me. I soap up, grateful for the cold. It’s the first time since
meeting Meg that I’m not uncomfortably hard.
Not true. There was that moment after Meg swallowed me down.
Her throat closed around my cock, and she took every drop I gave her. Even
after I was done, she was sweet and submissive. I wanted nothing more than to
praise her for her gift. I wanted to haul her into my arms and fuck that sweet
pussy of hers. She wouldn’t have said no. She would have spread her legs and
welcomed me.
But she was under the influence of our connection.
If she was in her right mind, she would have been terribly
insulted. She’s a lady, a bondmate. She deserves respect. My wants and needs
are perverse. She’ll help me overcome them. Once Cian and I have properly
bonded with her, the overwhelming need I feel to dominate my lovers during sex
will go away.
It has to.
“I don’t understand you, cos,” Dante admits. The light is
fading now. The vampire doesn’t need the hood of his shirt. He sits negligently
in the shade, but then everything Dante Dellacourt does has an air of
privileged negligence about it.
“I don’t expect you to.” I work the soap into my hair. It
should have been Meg’s job. Washing her husband’s hair is the responsibility of
a Fae woman. I gave up the right when I treated her like a piece of trash.
“You’re tearing yourself apart over what happened out there,
and I’m not sure which part is killing you. You aren’t responsible for the fact
that you’re losing control. You should have been bonded five years ago. If I
recall, your parents had already betrothed the two of you to a nice royal
girl.”
I snort at the thought. Of course I remember Maris. How
could I forget? I knew since I was very young that she was our future bondmate.
She was a cool blonde and aware of her position, even as a young teen. If she
was with me in the arena, she would have slapped me silly. “I don’t think my
uncle intends to allow that contract to be fulfilled.”
The vampire sighs impatiently. “That’s my point, asshole.
You did everything right. It’s not your fault that it all went wrong. Meg saved
you.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I ask, irritation rising.
“Then why did you treat her like crap?”
“It’s your fault,” I snarl, lying through my teeth. Maybe if
I piss my cousin off enough, Dante will go away and leave me alone. “You were
the one who was stupid enough to bring her into the arena.”
Dante stands. He walks to the water’s edge, proving he does,
indeed, have a death wish. “It was the only way I could think of to salvage the
situation.”
“I can think of another,” I reply, narrowing my eyes in
challenge.
Dante throws his head back and groans. “I am not going to
inject you with cold iron, asshole. Get over it. If you want to commit suicide,
I’ll give you the needle, but I won’t push the plunger. I wouldn’t just be
killing you. I would be killing Cian, too, and I happen to like him. I like him
a hell of a lot more than I like you right now. You had no right to treat her
like that.”
“I know.” My anger deflates and I’m left with the hollowness
of guilt.
“She gave you everything she had and you tell her to cover
up,” Dante complains. “No, ‘wow, baby, that was one hell of a blow job. You’ve
got the sweetest mouth known to man.’ Just ‘cover up so no one sees my bitch.’”
Nope. Anger is still in there. My constant fucking
companion. “Hey, don’t you talk about her like that. She’s my wife.”
“Then why is she crying alone? I checked in on her, and she
was crying.”
My gut clenches at the thought. She’s crying, and I’m the
bastard who caused her pain. “I won’t ever hurt her like that again. I can’t
take it back. I can only promise to treat her with respect from this point on.”
Dante rolls his eyes. “You’re such an idiot. You honestly
think that she’s upset because you fucked her? She’s heartbroken because you
fucked her, bonded with her, and then dumped her ass. Seriously, you need to
take lessons in how to woo a woman because they don’t like it when you use them
and walk away. Even I know that.”
I go under one last time to wash the soap away and then
march out of the river, shaking the water off my skin. Dante has brought along
a towel, and he tosses it toward me. I wrap it around my waist. “I didn’t dump
her. I lost my fucking head. I treated her like a piece of meat. Can you blame
her for not wanting to be near me?”
“Oh, cos, that wasn’t the problem,” the vampire says,
bringing the attitude down a notch. “I was watching. Hell, I couldn’t take my
eyes off it. I think she’s more perfect for you than you could have hoped. She
enjoyed it.”
I twist my hair, trying to get the water out. “That was the
bond. I flooded her with it. I pushed myself at her.”
“That is your nature,” Dante says quietly. “But I think you
are underestimating her nature. She was happy afterward. She wasn’t
ashamed. You made her feel that.”
I point an accusatory finger at my cousin. “You don’t
understand. Maybe vampires treat consorts with such blatant disrespect, but we
do not dishonor our bondmates in such a fashion.”
“We vampires make damn sure that our lovers are satisfied,
and after they’re satisfied, we thank them and cuddle them. We find out what
they need and give it to them. If what my lover needs runs counter to what
society or my father taught me was acceptable, then fuck society.” Dante has to
talk around his fangs, letting me know how irritated he is.
“Don’t you talk about my father.” My father is always a
touchy subject.
“Of course, it all comes back to your father. He was a good
man, but he wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t a perfect king, and he damn sure wasn’t a
perfect father. He pushed you too hard, and he completely ignored Cian. Cian
was supposed to be king, too. He didn’t value Cian’s input, so he focused all
his time on you. No one could live up to his standards. Gods, Beck, when are
you going to be who you are and not who he thought you should be?”
“Get out.” I won’t listen to anyone talk about my father
this way. I wasn’t able to save my father, but I can damn sure preserve his
memory. “Get the fuck out of here. Go back to your cushy little plane and make
all the scandalous news you possibly can. Don’t come back. You won’t be
welcome.”
Dante drops his hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m
only going as far as your village. I’ll head out and make sure Cian doesn’t
fade before you can get to him, but you would do well to listen to me. You’ll
make yourself and that woman you married miserable if you deny who you are.”
Dante stalks off, his lanky body disappearing in the tall,
thin trees that quake in the wind.
I sink to the ground. It’s a long time before I rise, and
the whole time I sit wondering if the vampire isn’t right.