Chapter 43
Stella
My skin had been scrubbed clean. Not a speck of dirt remained beneath my fingernails, behind my ears, or between my toes. I”d been lathered in sweet smelling lotions until my skin glistened.
Gone was the dirty, man-funk silk shirt I”d donned when I arrived at Blood and Beryl. The Queen had procured me a sundress, a floral affair of pinks. A strappy pair of sandals completed the outfit.
I”d even gotten my hands on a cup of coffee. The dark elixir was the perfect temperature. Hot enough to warm me through, cool enough that I could gulp it down like the caffeine fiend I was.
Somehow, I still felt dirty beneath the layers of soap and sweet lotions. The power of pink that normally made me feel strong and in control when it covered my body left me feeling exposed, vulnerable, and weak. The coffee landed with a thud in my belly, which was too busy tying itself in knots to appreciate it.
”Papers?” the portal guard barked out at me.
I didn”t have a stitch of paperwork on me. I”d left my purse back in that clearing where the massacred bodies of vampires had likely turned to dust. I had no way to prove who I was. I wasn”t sure about the answer to that question any longer.
”She is a member of the Royal House of Panthera. Her passage is at the bequest of King Dion.”
Just hours ago, Oz”s voice had brought me comfort. It had been a safe place where I would not have hesitated to fall. Now his words caused a tension headache. I jerked as his hand came to rest at the small of my back as the guards waved us through.
The moment I stepped through the portal, I gave him my weight as a wave of disorientation washed over me. The sensation of traveling through the magical gateway left me feeling unmoored, untethered, like I was floating in a sea of nothingness. Much like how I felt when I was deep into a vision. Except the only thing I saw was Oz speaking with Dion earlier.
Oz”s arms wrapped around me now. He was the anchor to my ship. But he was going to cause me to sink. Just like all of the men in my past. I needed to break free of him, but I was still hooked.
Portal travel happened in an instance. That moment stretched into forever. I let it.
I let Oz hold me to him. I let him breathe in my hair. I let his lips sneak behind my ear. I let his exhalation send a shiver down my back.
And then, once I left behind my old world and came into this new one, I broke free of his hold. The moment I did, the spinning stopped.
Before I opened my eyes to take my first look at Arcadia, I breathed deeply. The air in this new world was crisp and fresh. There was no smell of chemicals or toxins. There was an undercurrent of funk, but it smelled natural, not magical or technical. Here I was going to get a fresh new start. I was going to be a queen.
A queen to a cheating king. But would that be any different from being the unwitting mistress to nothing but cheaters in the past? At least now I”d have a tiara.
The world of Arcadia unfolded before me, a landscape imbued with magic and ancient power. The colors seemed more vivid here, the sky a deeper shade of blue and the grass underfoot a lush, vibrant green. The air carried the scent of burning sandalwood, a smell that had always soothed me. There was an undercurrent of energy pulsing through the very earth. It felt familiar. It felt like home. Not the house kind of home. This felt like a belonging deep in my veins.
Now that I was through the portal, my visions had returned. I didn”t even have to close my eyes to see things clearly. The visions no longer felt like a tidal wave pulling me under. They simply rose from the back of my mind like photographs or a video playing out on a screen.
I saw myself standing beside King Dion, regal and commanding. Around us, a sea of people bowed in reverence, their gestures an acknowledgment of my newfound status as their queen. I saw Oz as well. He stood behind us both, decked out in military finery. His gaze was riveted on me, unblinking, filled with desire.
I turned to face him and saw the reality of what I”d seen in my head. How could he think that this would continue? That I would allow myself to be shared between two men? That I”d let them continue their game like I was a plaything?
I”d decided to be a queen. I would not be a pawn between them.
I”d have a serious talk with my king later. Right now I needed to talk with the man I”d thought I”d loved. The man who pretended to be my mate to get me to come with him.
The man who still held my heart in his paw.
I would be taking that back promptly.
”Can it be?” An elderly woman stepped forward, her hands outstretched towards me. ”You are the spitting image of him.”
Him? Who?
”We”d thought Cyrus was lost to us forever.”
Cyrus? I knew that name. I”d only heard one other person speak it when I was a little girl. ”How do you know my father”s name?”
Instead of answering, the elderly woman bowed. So did the small crowd gathered behind her. As people milling about the portal station watched the deference, eyes inevitably traveled to me. I saw flickers of surprise, of disbelief, of reverence. Then one by one, they all bowed as well.
Except Oz. He stood at my back, his eyes sweeping over the crowd as though assessing for danger. It was rich, because he was the only one that posed any real danger to me. And he”d already done his worse.
The journey to the palace was quick and silent. Oz opened his mouth a few times, but then seemed to think better of it and remained mute. I had no words to offer. I was still reeling from everything that had happened to me in just the last few hours.
I”d lost a fated mate. Gained a king as a mate. And was coming to the realization that my father had not been born on Earth. My mother had told me very little about him before she”d died. Only that he”d been killed because of what he was and that I should never let anybody know about the animal hidden inside of me.
So just like then, I stayed quiet.
Entering the palace, I was struck by its opulence. The grandeur was breathtaking, with high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes. Walls lined with tapestries that told stories of valor and magic. Floors of polished stone that reflected the light from glittering chandeliers.
This was the home I had seen in my visions, when I”d seen myself standing with Oz. I realized that scene was playing out now. Had I been smiling the first time I”d imagined this? Had he?
I was shown to a suite of rooms that was to be mine, each space more luxurious than the last. The bedroom was vast, with a bed draped in silks and velvets, windows that looked out onto lush gardens and a fireplace that crackled with a welcoming warmth.
It felt like a gilded cage. But no key was turned in the lock. The attendant left the doors wide open as she left me alone with Oz.
The tension that had been building between us reached its breaking point. I wanted to scream at him, to behave coolly, as if he didn”t matter, to throw myself in his arms and cry, to turn away from him as though I had never cared an iota for him.
”Where do you live?” I asked. Yes, that was my question. I wanted to know where he would be in this maze. To know where I would find him if I needed him. Not that I would ever use the knowledge.
”I have rooms near the king”s suites. But I prefer to stay in a small cottage in the forests beyond the gates.”
I nodded. Then there was more quiet between us. ”Are you going to quit?”
Oz”s brows raised, answering my question with his own.
”It”s the only decent thing to do after you sampled the king”s goods.”
He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Instead of denying it, his eyes closed. He looked to me like a villain relieved to have finally been caught.
”Was it part of your duties? To sample the queen-to-be, to make sure she was ripe for your king? Or were you two planning to just pass me back and forth?”
”No, he”d never?—”
”Yeah, Dion doesn”t seem the type. I could sense he was a decent guy the first time he touched me.”
Oz looked strained at that pronouncement. He didn”t open his mouth to deny my assessment of his king.
”You disgust me.” I was so proud that my voice didn”t tremble. Inside, I was breaking down, imploding like a building that had been demolished. Or an ancient structure finally giving way to centuries of neglect and ill use.
”Stella, let me explain.”
”I reject you.”
Inside my belly, the cat growled. I heard Oz”s beast doing the same. Why was there still a connection if none of the mating had been real?
”Leave.”
He didn”t argue. He didn”t hesitate. His legs nearly gave way as he made his way out of the room.
His departure was a physical ache, a void that couldn”t be filled. I was left standing in the middle of splendor and luxury, but all I felt was an overwhelming sense of loss.