7. The Stand
7
The Stand
Annalise
Three weeks later…
I should probably be grateful for how easily things have gone back to normal following Elizabeth’s attempt to take my life. While, yes, I’m certainly happy to be alive, I’ve also grown increasingly exasperated with how the focus of the entire estate has shifted to preparing for the Spring Ball.
Like nothing happened.
Were it not for the added guard presence, you’d never know we’re on high alert. And the worst part about all of this is that Dimitri has been annoyingly present these days, lurking in the shadows. It seems like every time I open my eyes, he’s there.
Like now, as I lift my gaze from the table covered in seemingly endless fabric samples for dresses, and stationary options for the Spring Ball invitations.
A moment ago, Dimitri was content gawking from across the room. But he’s closer now, eyeing me like I’m a criminal. There’s no doubt he believes that, considering the discovery he made connecting my past to Brendan Cuthbert’s, but if his brother vouching for my innocence isn’t enough, I’m not sure he’ll ever be satisfied. I’d love nothing more than to storm right over and tell him exactly how deep my hatred for him runs, but I’ve been careful, minding my Ps and Qs. And seeing as how a violent outburst would only incriminate me further, I refrain.
Meaning, I’ve got no choice but to deal with the added guards and Dimitri’s assholery.
It’s also been strange being down to two ladies. However, Guinivere and Tabatha have stuck so close, you’d think they’ve been hired to guard me. I can hardly take a step without one of them in my shadow. I realized their love for me long before Elizabeth’s attempt, but they’ve become almost like my sisters in the three weeks since the attack. I didn’t realize how much I’d need that.
Especially now, on the eve of the night Cas’s new potential mates will finally darken the Estate’s doorstep.
Thinking about it, I glance toward the large clock mounted on the wall. By this time tomorrow, I will have laid eyes on the other women he intends to share his life with. Despite knowing his final selection won’t be made until the Spring Ball, the thought of it causes my stomach to twist every time it comes to mind.
I’ve considered it many times, whether I’m even capable of living a life like that, one where I’ll be forced to share my mate with others. And every time, the answer that screams at me from the heavens is no. However, that decision isn’t mine to make.
It’s never been mine.
“What about this one? The teal flowers are nice. Don’t you—” Guinivere’s question cuts off with a gasp when she accidentally elbows a bottle of wine, sending it crashing to the floor.
Shards of glass and dark liquid spray everywhere, splashing the curtains and the back of the nearby settee. And because Dimitri chose to hover so closely, he’s hit in the crossfire as well. He hopped back a second too late, now his pants and shoes are soaked, and I can’t help but think he deserved it.
“Oh, my gods. I’m such a klutz,” Guinivere gushes, dropping to her knees the next instant, ruining her dress as she gathers large chunks of glass.
“It was a mistake. Things happen,” I assure her with a smile before grabbing a swatch of ugly fabric. It’s so bad it wasn’t even a contender for dress material, but it works perfectly to stop the mess from spreading further.
The redness on Guinivere’s face brightens as the servers who brought our dinner begin to scramble for rags.
“I’ve made such a mess,” she scolds herself, but before I’m given the chance to reassure her that it isn’t a big deal…
“You fucking idiot!” Dimitri’s voice booms, and I’m in shock as he takes Guinivere’s arm tightly, yanking her upright from the floor. “Next time, pay attention to what you’re doing. Clean this shit up before I really lose my temper.”
“I—it” Guinivere stammers as I quickly rise to my feet, crunching glass beneath my shoes as I stomp through the mess to reach Dimitri. His eyes shift from Guinivere’s to mine, half a second before I slap him so hard my hand will likely sting for days.
He releases Guinivere instantly, and I see his hand tighten into a fist. It honestly wouldn’t be a surprise if he swings at me.
“Do it,” I growl, narrowing my eyes as my wolf gladly steps up, more than happy to make her presence known should Dimitri choose violence.
He stares with unprecedented hatred in his eyes, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.
A smirk curves his lips. “Are you really that stupid? Do you have any idea what I’d do to you? How I’d break you?”
“Fucking. Try.”
My words have a vein in his forehead nearly ready to burst, and I love that I can get so deep under his skin that he can’t control himself.
He leans closer, and I maybe should back away, but I don’t. I don’t even flinch as he gets so close the heat of his chest blasts into me.
“Just wait,” he whispers. “Soon, my brother’s other mates will arrive. They’ll take your place, and he won’t just lose interest. He’ll forget you even exist. And when that happens… who the fuck do you think is going to protect you from me, Annalise?”
My heart’s racing, but I don’t show him outwardly that I’m affected by his words. But… I am. On too many levels to list.
“There a problem here?” a voice rings out, and I recognize it immediately to be Creed. I can only imagine what he’s thinking, walking in on a scene like this—wine and glass all over, Dimitri and I clearly having an intense standoff.
Dimitri backs away, but the smirk is still there. Likely because he knows he got to me.
“Everything’s peachy. Just having a quick word with our Alpha Regent ,” Dimitri says, winking at me as the snide words leave his mouth.
What an ass.
With all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed how close the guards had moved in. I’m guessing they realized they may need to intervene as things took a turn.
“Sir, perhaps you should step away to cool off,” one guard says.
“I’m fine,” Dimitri snaps, shrugging off the guard’s hands when he attempts to usher him out of the room. The guard does unhand him, but he stays close in case I should require his protection.
His name is Kevin, and I make a note of his loyalty.
However, as Dimitri glares, it becomes abundantly clear that our hatred for one another has reached a critical level. Creed seems to realize it too as he approaches Dimitri, whispers something only the two of them will ever know, and then Dimitri storms out of the room without a response, scowling at me the entire time.
Only now do I let out a breath, feeling my shoulders heave as rage sets in.
“Are you all right?” Creed asks, his compassion for me apparent as he places a hand on my shoulder.
I nod, but I don’t speak. I’m too wired, too angry.
Two servers re-enter the room. One carrying a broom, dustpan, and a bucket, the other with both her arms loaded with rags. Before she has a chance to disburse them to the others, I snatch them and lower to the floor and begin wiping up the mess.
“Ma’am. Please, we?—”
“No,” I snap, already on my hands and knees, scooping glass into the bucket.
“Annalise, the staff will get that,” Creed says.
“And it was my mistake,” Guinivere chimes in. “If anyone should clean this up, it’s?—”
“You’re especially not touching this mess,” I snap at her, peering up from the floor. “Not after the way he spoke to you. I won’t allow it.”
Tears well in Guinivere’s eyes, and I think she gets it. I won’t allow her to follow Dimitri’s orders whether he’s in the room to witness it or not, because it isn’t about him. It’s about her. I won’t have her thinking she has to submit to a man like that. Which is why I’m choosing to clean the mess myself.
The room is silent as the others honor my decision, watching the entire twenty minutes it takes me to clear the glass, wipe up the wine, and then go over the floor a second time to make sure there’s no residue.
When I finish, with wine staining the hem of my dress, I return to my seat and go back to examining the remaining stationary options. Silent, Guinivere and Tabatha lower into their seats beside me.
“We’ll go with this one,” I say, speaking the first word that’s been spoken since a hush fell over the room quite some time ago.
“Very well, ma’am,” a server says. “I’ll get this to Lady Radcliffe right away.”
I nod as she exits, and then I grab another swatch of fabric. In my peripheral vision, I notice Creed watching me. When I glance over, meeting his gaze, there’s a faint smile and a telling look in his eyes. It’s a look I’ve only been given from a handful of those on Cas’s staff, but I recognize it immediately.
It’s respect.
And, apparently, this is the moment I’ve earned Creed’s.