Chapter 15 Bronwen
Bronwen
August wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t let me out of his sight now. He watched Jane bathe me. He watched Jane dry me. He watched Jane brush my hair. I stared right back at him the entire time.
He sat draped in a high-backed velvet chair, one leg crossed over the other, lounging like he belonged to every dark corner of the room.
A perfectly tailored coat of deep charcoal clung to his tall frame, the sharp lines of his shoulders softened only slightly by the luxurious fabric.
A high collar framed his pale throat, and dark crimson threading marked subtle patterns along the cuffs.
The crown rested on his white-blonde hair like it had always been there, glinting in the candlelight like it had fused with him.
His dark eyes tracked my every movement, unreadable but alert, and his mouth curled into that same infuriating smile. I thought he used to piss me off, but nothing compared to how mad he made me now.
Watching. Always fucking watching.
The nightmare I had the night before hadn’t helped anything.
I hated him and yet I had to relive another one of his kills through the eyes of his victim.
But it wasn’t simple this time. He had changed the way he toyed with his prey before the kill.
Because he had… eaten before he fed. His mouth was all over me—not me, the woman’s body I was trapped in—and I felt every sensation that came with it.
Gods! Yesterday, I had finally felt nothing but rage when I saw him and then I shut my eyes and that happened.
Jane pulled a dress from the armoire, the soft thud of the door closing snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.
After helping me into the dress, I finally tore my gaze from August and turned to face the mirror.
It was beautiful, elegant and expertly tailored, but it itched at the seams and clung too tightly at the ribs.
It made me miss the dresses my mother used to sew, soft and simple, stitched with care and familiarity.
I wished I still had one. Just one. Something made for me out of love, not obligation.
I stilled when August stood and walked to his armoire, his movements unhurried but certain. My breath caught when he returned with the same crown he’d placed on my head at our wedding.
Yesterday hadn’t felt real. It had played out like some grotesque performance, staged for the bloodthirsty creatures lining the castle walls. But now, with the crown gleaming in his hands again, the weight of it all sank into my chest like a stone.
He stepped behind me and gently lowered it onto my head once more. It wasn’t just a spectacle yesterday.
August, the Joveryn King.
And me… the Joveryn Queen.
He leaned in next to me and stared at me through the mirror, his breath brushing the curve of my ear.
“You have to look the part, don’t you think?”
I hated the way he made me feel. And yet, when he leaned in, his breath ghosting over my skin, I didn’t flinch. Because a part of me—one I hated—wanted him to do more than whisper.
I reached up, running my hand across the cold, sharp jewels. They glinted under the flickering candlelight like blood frozen in time.
“I knew my Winnie liked nice things.”
I ripped my hands away. I was not his.
He didn’t react. Just turned and grabbed a cloak, his movements smooth and practiced. Then he held it out for me. A silent gesture that made my skin crawl. His hands were so close to me.
Too close.
As we stepped to the castle doors, Halston stood at the end of a dark hall.
“Where are you going?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“To town,” August answered, bored.
“No. You can’t. Carrow—”
“Carrow isn’t here. I’m going to spend these few months how I want to spend them. If you try to stop me, I will throw you out in the sun. Got it?”
The threat was calm, even, and absolute.
I made note of how Halston’s expression faltered, how quickly his demeanor shifted. When we made it through this, he would be the first one to go.
The cold bit at my skin the second I stepped outside.
After days spent inside the castle’s dim corridors and candlelit halls, the snow-glared brightness forced my eyes to squint against it.
The sun was blinding, making the ice-crusted ground shimmer like a field of diamonds.
I tugged my cloak tighter around me, my fingers already numb, and blinked through the dazzling light, disoriented by how alive the world looked compared to the lifeless chill of the castle.
A new man, I guessed since the old one could burn in the sun now, helped us into the carriage, smiling like a fool. As if the threat of vampires didn’t exist behind every corner.
Inside the carriage, I sat as far from August as the space allowed.
Plush cushions lined the bench seats, but the air inside felt just as cold as it did outside.
My breath fogged in front of me, and the windows were already beginning to frost at the corners.
He didn’t seem to care about the distance I put between us.
He just looked out the window with a half-lidded gaze, like it was any other day.
Like he hadn’t watched me be stripped and dressed like a doll.
I studied him in the silence. His jaw was tense, the vein in his neck pulsing lightly with each second that passed. Every now and then, his fingers tapped against his knee—a rhythm that betrayed how tightly he was holding himself together.
“I thought the king never left the castle,” I mumbled, breaking the stillness.
He turned to me with a smirk. “And lose the chance to have everyone’s eyes on me?” He laughed, as if it were obvious.
His words reminded me of the last time we walked through town together during the day. How he’d dropped to his knees in the middle of the square, clutching his hands like a desperate lover, tears in his eyes. Begging for forgiveness.
He was someone completely different now. And yet I could still see the old August slip through sometimes.
“When we get there, keep your hood on until I make the decree.”
I glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Add to the dramatics of it all?”
He said nothing, but I caught the corner of his mouth twitching like he was amused. Or maybe proud. It was always so hard to tell with him.
I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window again.
Frost veined the edges of the glass, blurring the world beyond into pale silhouettes of rooftops and people gathering at the gate.
We were almost there. A crowd larger than I had ever seen had already gathered.
Most of them were bundled in thick cloaks, boots half-buried in the snow.
The cold must have stung their skin just as much as mine, but still, they came. Curious. Starved for distraction.
“I sent word to the Legion to notify every house of this in hopes we would have as big of a crowd as possible,” August said.
“So you command a castle of vampires and the Legion now,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Oh how far you’ve come from taking pleasure in watching me kill the things you’re in charge of now.”
He tilted his head, just slightly, studying me like he didn’t quite recognize me.“Have I given you the impression that I don’t still enjoy those things, Winnie?”
Shivers ran down my spine, and it wasn’t from the heavy snow outside of the carriage.
We came to a stop, and I pulled my hood on, careful not to knock the crown off. But before August could step out, I felt the full weight of the silence outside the carriage.
It wasn’t just quiet, it was suspended. Like the moment before a match strikes. I glanced out the window. Rows of people packed the square, boots buried in snow, eyes locked on the carriage like it might birth a god.
My heart beat louder in my chest. I could almost hear the shift of fabric, the creak of someone leaning forward for a better view. No one spoke. No one dared.
Then August stepped out.
The ripple of whispers broke loose like a sudden gust of wind. Meeting one king only a week ago and now seeing another step out wearing a crown. It was something out of a fable. A dangerous one.
I waited for him to move aside, to let someone else help me down. But instead, he turned back toward me and simply held out his hand. My chest tightened. I bit my tongue before I said something I couldn’t take back. Now wasn’t the time.
I took his hand, and we walked together, our fingers laced. I took his hand because I had to. Because the crown on my head meant I no longer had the freedom to refuse. But the moment our fingers laced, something ugly twisted in my chest.
His touch still did things to me. And I hated him for it.
I stole a glance at the crowd and quickly scanned it for any sign of Adar, even though I knew it would be useless.
Everyone had their hoods drawn tight, faces shadowed.
Adar couldn’t risk being recognized, couldn’t risk someone attacking him.
Still, I hoped. I needed to know he was here. That he was safe.
A Legion soldier stepped forward to greet us—the older one I’d first seen with Adar in the woods. He didn’t bow, but his stance shifted ever so slightly in deference. A silent nod to August’s new title.
August stood beside me like a fallen god, every inch of him regal and dangerous. His crown gleamed in the winter sun, and his pale hair lifted in the breeze. He looked untouchable.
August leaned in close, lips nearly grazing my ear. “Get ready, Winnie. You’re about to see the chaos that comes with you getting everything you wanted.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t trust what I might say.
“My dear father was in a tragic hunting accident last week and is no longer with us,” he said, his voice calm and cool, but it carried through town like thunder. “But I am starting a new age. An age of peace, forgiveness, and… love.”
The word cracked against my ribs like a whip. Love. From the same mouth that told me he felt nothing. I clenched my fists inside the folds of my cloak.