Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
PRIMSYN
Iwake wrapped around Oliver, my face pressed against his chest, one leg thrown over his hip. His heartbeat is steady under my ear. His hand rests on my lower back, holding me even in sleep. We fit together perfectly, like two pieces that were always meant to connect.
So dangerous.
The thought whispers through my mind, but I push it away. I know it's dangerous. I've known it from the start. But lying here, sated and content in a way I've never experienced, I can't bring myself to care.
Oliver stirs beneath me, his hand tightening on my back. "You're still here," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
"I fell asleep." I tilt my head up to look at him. "I didn't mean to stay the whole night."
"I'm not complaining." His fingers trace lazy patterns on my spine. "Though your staff probably noticed you never returned to your chambers."
Reality crashes back in. "Fuck."
"Yeah." But he's smiling, a rare genuine smile that transforms his whole face. "Worth it though."
I smile back.
We lie there for a few more minutes, neither of us wanting to break the peaceful moment. But eventually I force myself to sit up, looking around for my discarded dress.
"I should go. Get cleaned up. Try to salvage some appearance of normalcy." I find the dress on the floor and slip it on. "Corvask is probably having a heart attack."
"Your steward does seem the worrying type." Oliver props himself up on his elbows, watching me. The sheet slides down to his waist, and I'm momentarily distracted by the planes of his chest, and the marks I left on his skin last night.
Mine. The thought is primal and possessive.
"I'll send breakfast," I tell him, trying to regain some semblance of control. "And later, maybe we can..."
"Have another inappropriate lunch?" He grins. "I'm starting to like these new feeding arrangements."
Heat floods through me at the memory of yesterday. "Behave."
"Why start now?"
I lean down to kiss him, intending it to be brief. But his hand comes up to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss until I'm breathless and considering crawling back into bed with him.
"I really do need to go," I manage when we finally break apart.
"I know." He releases me reluctantly. "Tonight?"
"Tonight," I confirm.
The walk back to my chamber feels like a march of shame and victory all at once. I pass servants who bow and avert their eyes as always, but I swear I can feel their judgment. They know. They must know.
Corvask is waiting for me, his expression carefully neutral in the way that means he's deeply concerned.
"Madam," he greets. "I trust you slept well?"
"Corvask." I meet his eyes steadily. "Say what you need to say."
He glances around, making sure we're alone, then steps closer. "Madam, I would never presume to judge your personal choices. But there is talk among the household staff. About you and the human."
"His name is Oliver."
"Yes. Oliver." He clears his throat. "Madam, you must understand how this appears. You're a widow of high standing, a member of elite society. If word spreads beyond these walls..."
"I know the risks." I push open my chamber door. "But I appreciate your concern."
"Primsyn." He uses my name, which he only does when genuinely worried. "Be careful. The council has always watched you closely since your husband's death. Any sign of impropriety could be used against you."
"Noted." I soften my tone. "Thank you, Corvask. Truly. But I'm not going to stop."
His shoulders sag. "Then at least be discreet. No more meals in the dining room. And for the love of the gods, don't let anyone from outside the household catch you in his quarters."
"I'll be careful,"
I spend the next few hours bathing, dressing, and then trying to focus on estate business. A task made almost impossible by my wandering mind. Wandering to thoughts of Oliver. Always back to Oliver.
Around midday, I'm in my study reviewing accounts when Corvask appears in the doorway, his face pale.
"Madam, I apologize for the interruption, but Councilman Thrain is here. He insists on seeing you immediately."
My blood runs cold. Thrain. Of all the council members who could have shown up unannounced, he's the worst possible option.
Thrain served with my late husband. He's powerful and has made his interest in courting me abundantly clear over the past five years. I've deflected his advances repeatedly, but he's persistent.
"Did he say what he wants?"
"No, Madam. Only that it's urgent council business."
I take a deep breath, smoothing my skirts. "Send him in. And Corvask? Make sure Oliver stays in his quarters. No matter what."
Corvask bows and disappears. A moment later, Thrain enters.
He's a large Lactari male, his skin marbled in deep purples and blacks, his eyes a dark amethyst. He’s brutally handsome, with a presence that commands attention. Wearing his council robes, he’s all formal and proper.
"Primsyn." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You're looking well."
"Thrain. This is unexpected." I gesture to the chair across from my desk. "What brings you to my estate?"
"Can't an old friend visit without a reason?" He sits, and his gaze roams over me, making my skin crawl.
"We both know you're not here for a friendly visit."
His smile fades. "No. I'm not." He leans forward, his expression hardening. "I've heard some concerning rumors, Primsyn. About you and one of your livestock."
My heart stops. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't insult my intelligence." His voice drops. "You've been seen with a human male. Dining with him. Spending excessive time in his quarters. Some servants claim you didn't return to your chambers at all last night."
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
"My household affairs are my business," I say even as panic claws at my chest.
"Not when they threaten the reputation of the council." He stands, moving around the desk toward me. "Your late husband was a respected member. His widow engaging in...relations with livestock? It's scandalous. Disgusting."
"Watch your tone, Thrain."
"Or what?" He's standing over me now, using his size to intimidate. "You'll what, Primsyn? You have no power here. No husband to protect your position. You exist in elite society by the council's grace."
I stand, refusing to let him loom over me. "I've done nothing wrong."
"You've fucked your livestock!" His composure cracks, rage and jealousy bleeding through. "Do you have any idea how that looks? How it reflects on all of us?"
I meet his eyes. "You're not concerned about propriety. You're angry because I wouldn't let you into my bed, but I let a human there instead."
His hand lashes out, gripping my arm hard enough to bruise. "You will dispose of the human. Today. Sell him, kill him, I don't care. But he will be gone by nightfall, or I will bring this before the full council."
"Take your hand off me."
"You think you have a choice?" He leans closer, his breath hot against my face. "If the council investigates, they'll strip you of everything. Your estate, your position, your wealth. You'll be ruined."
"And if I comply? Get rid of Oliver?" The words taste bitter as they leave my mouth.
"Then this stays between us. I'll make sure the rumors die. And perhaps..." His free hand comes up to cup my face. "Perhaps we can discuss a more appropriate arrangement. You and I. A courtship. Marriage, even."
Disgust roils through me. "You're blackmailing me into marriage?"
"I'm offering you a way out. A way to salvage your reputation and secure your future." His thumb brushes my cheek. "I've wanted you for years, Primsyn. I would have been a far better husband than that impotent fool you were bound to."
I jerk away from his touch. "Get out of my house."
"Not until you agree to my terms." His expression hardens. "Dispose of the human and accept my courtship, or face the council's judgment. Those are your options."
My mind races. If he brings this to the council, I'll lose everything. The estate, my independence, possibly even my freedom. But if I agree, if I let Oliver be taken away or killed...
I can't. I won't.
"I need time," I say. "To make arrangements. To handle things."
Thrain studies me, suspicious. "How much time?"
"A few days."
"You have until tomorrow evening." He moves toward the door. "And Primsyn? I'll be watching. If I hear even a whisper of you going to that human's quarters, our deal is terminated."
He leaves, and I sink into my chair, shaking.
What am I going to do?
I need to see Oliver. I need to warn him. But Thrain said he'd be watching.
Corvask enters after a soft knock at my door, his face grim. "I heard raised voices, Madam. Is everything—"
"Send for Oliver," I interrupt. "Bring him here. Now. Use the servants' corridors and be discreet."
"Madam, if Councilman Thrain—"
"Just bring him to me, Corvask. Please."
He bows and leaves. I pace my study, my mind spinning with impossible choices. How do I protect Oliver? How do I protect myself? How do we get out of this?
Ten minutes later, Oliver enters through the servants' entrance. He takes one look at my face, and his expression darkens.
"What happened?"
Oliver
The moment I see her, I know something's wrong. Primsyn looks shaken, her usual composure cracked, her hands trembling as she closes the door behind me.
"Primsyn, what's going on?"
She doesn't answer right away. Just moves to me, her arms wrapping around my waist, her face pressing against my chest. I hold her, confused and increasingly worried.
"Talk to me," I murmur into her hair.
"Councilman Thrain was here." Her voice is muffled against my shirt. "He knows about us."
I freeze. "How much does he know?"
"Everything. That I've been spending time with you. That I stayed in your quarters last night." She pulls back, looking up at me with fear. "He's given me an ultimatum."
"Which is?"
"I have until tomorrow evening to dispose of you. Sell you or kill you, he doesn't care which." Her hands fist my shirt. "And if I comply, he'll keep this quiet and let me salvage my reputation."
"And if you don't?"
"He brings it before the council. They'll investigate, and I'll lose everything. My estate, my position, possibly my freedom."
I process this, my mind already working through scenarios. "So you'll do it. You'll sell me or have me killed."
"No!" She grips me tighter. "No, Oliver. I won't. I can't."
"Primsyn. Your entire life is at stake. Everything you've built. You can't throw it all away"—I gesture between us—"for this. For me."
"Don't." Her voice breaks. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do."
"I'm livestock. Property. You said so yourself."
"I lied!" The words explode from her. "I've been lying from the beginning. You're not property to me, Oliver. You never were."
My chest tightens, emotions I don't want to name surging through me. "Then what am I?"
She looks at me, tears tracking down her face. "You're everything. You're the first person in forty years who's made me feel alive. Who's made me want something beyond duty and obligation. You're—"
"Don't say it." I can't hear those words. Can't let her say something we both know will only make this harder. "We need to think strategically. Figure out the best way to handle this."
"I don’t see a good way out of this!" She pulls away from me. "If I give you up, I lose you but keep my position. If I refuse, I lose everything. I'll be ruined, possibly imprisoned, and you'll be taken anyway."
She's right. There's no winning scenario here.
"What about this Thrain?" I ask. "What does he want besides you getting rid of me?"
Primsyn's jaw tightens. "He wants me. He's been pursuing me since my husband died. This is his way of forcing my hand. Get rid of you and accept his courtship, or be destroyed."
Rage floods through me. "He's blackmailing you into marriage."
"Yes."
"And if you marry him, what happens to me then?"
"I don't know. He'd probably sell you immediately. Can't have competition." Her laugh is bitter.
"There has to be a way out of this," I finally say. "Some angle we're not seeing."
"If there is, I can't find it." She moves to her desk, sinking into the chair. "I've been going over it again and again. Every scenario ends badly."
I move behind her chair, my hands coming to rest on her shoulders. She leans back into my touch, seeking comfort I'm not sure I can give.
"What if we run?" I suggest. "Take what we can and leave. Find somewhere they won't find us."
"They'd hunt us down. A council member's widow fleeing with her livestock? They'd make an example of us both." Her hand comes up to cover mine.
"I'm serious. If running is what it takes..."
"No." She turns in her chair to face me. "If I'm ruined anyway, you should at least benefit from it. Run, go back to the wild, find more humans and live."
"You think I could leave you?" My voice comes out harsher than intended. "After everything? You think I could walk away and not look back?"
"I think you should." But her eyes are pleading with me to say no. To tell her I won't leave her no matter what.
"I won't. So you're stuck with me, whatever happens."
A broken laugh escapes her. "You're an idiot."
"Yeah. Probably." I kneel beside her chair, taking her hand. "But I'm your idiot."
She threads her fingers through mine, holding on like I'm the only solid thing in her world. "We have until tomorrow evening. That's all the time we have."
"Then we make it count." I stand, pulling her up with me. "We’ll figure something out. We have to."