Chapter 31 #2
Sure, women like jewelry. Kendrick hadn’t given me any thought, though. None of my personal preferences were taken into account, only what he thought women wanted.
I snapped the lid back into place.
Intricate mosaic patterns of gemstones crusted the top and ancient gold glinted. Wherever he’d gotten this box from, whatever time period, it held its worth.
But what was more disturbing was the feeling I got from looking at the box. It reminded me of something. Something I’d held in my hands a long time ago.
What was it? Brain fog settled into place.
“Sit at the table, ” Kendrick demanded. “We’ll eat first and meet with the priest after.”
A long table cut through the center of the room like an arrow piercing a heart. Two sets of gaudy silverware and dramatic plating had been set at the far end, one at the head and the other at its right.
I lingered near the door. I could fight. I could run.
Kendrick clucked his tongue, reading my body language if not my thoughts. “I have your friend Melia locked away in the attic. Only good behavior gets her fed. We wouldn’t want her to waste away to nothing. She has so little resources to spare. Not to mention the locking spell Dorian set in her…”
His brows drew down.
“Be a good girl and sit.”
I pushed my legs into motion. “Treat me like a dog again and see what happens.”
“Disobey an order and I’d be delighted to show you what happens,” he countered.
I sat, and set the jewelry box next to me.
Servants crept into the room from the shadows, crawling through patches of gloom. They set down covered plates and served Kendrick first, revealing the dish without flourish or embellishment. Their eyes remained averted, their chins dipped to their chests like the woman who’d helped me dress.
One whiff of roast chicken had me gagging and salivating at the same time.
“Spill one drop on that dress and I’ll be happy to bend you over my knee,” Kendrick warned.
“That is a wonderful start to dinner conversation.” Better not to speak at all.
Servants poured wine for us, filling half the glass with garnet-colored liquid. I lifted it to my lips and sniffed, discreetly pushing a burst of magic into the drink. No poison, at least. Although why he’d go through all this trouble only to kill me at dinner, I couldn't say.
I just wouldn’t put it past him.
Seconds stretched into minutes as I picked at the food and Kendrick shoveled it between his lips. Between bites my gaze darted across the table to the windows and the door.
There had to be a way out.
It would only take a sprint to get me to the front door and out into the garden, if I could keep Kendrick from following. He had no clue I’d managed to heal myself so it was a point in my favor.
He had no idea about my lack of a bullet scar.
But how the hell would I get Melia, if Kendrick had her? We’d both have to run. Was she in the attic? Or was it another ploy to force obedience?
I scraped my fork tines across the plate hard enough to draw a wince. Kendrick only arched a brow and grinned, the same grin he’d tossed my way at Uncle Will’s house. That was right before he’d cornered me outside the powder room to feel me up the first time.
“Why do we need to get married?” I blurted out.
“I’m Catholic.” He spoke through food and swallowed quickly. “It’s what we do.”
Out of all the things I expected him to say, touting religious affiliation wasn’t it. My brain scrambled for the right response and came up blank. It seemed innocent enough, which only made my shiver worse.
“We’re already metaphysically bonded. So I don’t understand why we have to do this, Catholic or not.”
Kendrick snarled, his Alpha pushing to the surface. “It’s the proper thing to do.”
“And when have you ever done the proper thing?”
He took personal offense to the little bit of sass, and if I’d thought about spilling the wine down my dress out of spite, I now thought otherwise. The air in the room went thick and hot and made it hard to exist in the same sphere as him.
“You’ll accept a ring on your finger and shut the hell up.”
“You threatened to rape me. I’m pretty sure rape is not the proper Catholic thing to do.” I dabbed the corner of my mouth with the napkin to hide my tremor.
“Filling you with my pups isn’t rape. We’re mates,” he insisted.
“I’d rather slit my own throat than ever let you touch me.”
I leapt backward when he suddenly upended the table.
Silverware and goblets went flying. Chicken and wine crashed together, priceless antiques reduced to garbage in his rage.
Diverted, I didn’t notice his movement. Not until Kendrick rushed me and punched those meaty knuckles against my chest where I’d been shot.
The injury Dorian hadn’t entirely healed but I had.
The hit knocked me backwards and I staggered for balance.
“You’re a brute and a beast!” Pissed, I grabbed the heaviest object closest to me, the jewelry box at my feet.
I hefted it in both hands to bring it down over his head or bash his face in, whichever happened first.
Time warped again. A flash of memory rose from the depths and there was Melia in my mind, standing in the courtroom at the king’s trial holding the Augundae Imperium above her head as they stripped the court and king of their powers. When they saved me.
The Augundae Imperium.
I had access to it.
In the stuttering pause between threat and impact, Kendrick socked me in the face. The punch knocked lower teeth into upper and stars burst to life.
If I had a second to think, to exist without his violence, I could grab it. As long as Kendrick didn’t kill me first.