Chapter Nineteen
N IN ETEEN
Henry comes for me after lunch the next day. He doesn’t say a word, only opens my bedchamber door. When I see him, my heart picks up speed. After my father, he’s the wolf I fear most.
Henry despises Bishop in the petty, unhinged way a prince might despise a younger sibling who’s chosen for the throne.
One way to hurt Bishop is to hurt me. Physically hurt me, maybe in some manner that will endanger my ability to bear children.
My father would be enraged, but Henry strikes me as a man of action, not forethought.
So when Henry steps in, I ready a knockback spell. But he moves aside to clear the way to my door.
I hesitate. A trick? A scheme dreamed up by a mind not accustomed to plotting them? Open the door, let me step out, and then beat me for “trying to escape”?
“What do you want?” I ask.
He only stands there. Yes, this is a trick. If he doesn’t tell me to leave, then he’s free to punish me for leaving.
“I don’t understand,” I say. “Does my father want me—?”
Before I can blink, Henry grabs me by the shoulders and slams me backward into the wall. It’s so fast—unbelievably fast for a man of his size—that I don’t have time to cast the knockback, and the impact of that blow steals air from my lungs… and my witch spells with it.
My brain goes wild. I wasn’t ready. I need to be ready. Always be ready.
I don’t even have my knife. I was afraid of being caught with it, so I slipped it under the mattress.
I launch a knockback, but Henry grabs my wrist, flips me around, and wrenches both hands behind my back.
“You should have listened when I told you it was time to leave,” he breathes in my ear, with such malicious glee that fury rips through me. But I don’t snarl that he never said a word. That’s the point. He’ll tell my father that I refused to leave my room, so he had to drag me out.
Henry slams me into the wall again, and then binds my hands. I’m still gasping when he yanks my head back by the hair, hard enough for my eyes to water, and then slaps a gag over my mouth and ties it so tight it forces my mouth open, the cloth between my teeth.
“There,” he says. “Can’t cast now, can you?”
I seethe, at him and at myself.
When he yanks me again, my head spins. Blood drips from a cut over my temple. More stops up my nose, from him slamming my face against the wall. I can’t breathe through my nose or the gag. I wheeze, my fury turning to panic. I can’t breathe. I can’t catch—
Henry shoves me forward. When I focus on drawing breath, I can, with difficulty.
He keeps pushing me, making me stumble ahead, which gives him the excuse to yank me back so viciously that I lose my balance and fall on my arse, the bruise on my tailbone screaming.
Henry hauls me up by my bound arms and shoves me forward.
I clench my fists and force myself to walk at exactly the right pace, allowing him to push me along without stumbling. I take extra care descending the stairs and—
A scent stops me in my tracks, which gives Henry the excuse to shove me. I fall down the last steps and—because I am unable to catch myself with my hands—my chin slams against the floor. As he hauls me up, I’m too dazed to remember why I stopped… until the scent wafts past again.
It’s faint. So faint that if I didn’t know it so well, I’d never detect it.
Lilac mingled with a personal scent that belongs to the most important person in my life.
Lenora.
My aunt is here.
She’s discovered where my father is holding me, and she’s found a way in.
I can’t give anything away. Don’t look for her. Don’t let anyone see me sniffing the air. Don’t allow a glimmer of hope in my eyes.
I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I fail to see or smell Bishop until he’s right in front of me. I look up to see his dark eyes blazing as he glares over my shoulder at Henry.
“Why is she bleeding?” he says through clenched teeth.
“Dunno,” Henry says. “Ask her. Oh, wait. She can’t answer.”
I wrench my gaze from Bishop, and Henry shoves me forward.
“I’ll take her,” Bishop says.
Henry snorts. “No, you won’t, pup. This was my job. Straight from Silas.”
“Your job was to bind and gag her and bring her downstairs. Now, I’ll—”
A hard shove between my shoulder blades sends me toppling into Bishop. When he steadies me, Henry yanks me back.
“No touching your bride before the wedding night,” Henry says.
“How old are you?” Bishop snaps.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re acting like a child. Like a petulant little boy tormenting a captive beast because it belongs to the person you really want to hurt. Your fight is with me, Henry. Leave Cordelia out of it.”
“Tormenting her? I’m doing as I was told. Bringing her to Silas. Not my fault if she keeps tripping over her own feet. Clumsy, this one.”
Henry yanks me hard, but Bishop catches me before I fall. Then he pulls me out of the other man’s reach and steps between us.
“Touch her again, and you’ll answer to me.”
Henry laughs. “Is that supposed to be a threat? Any time you want to challenge me, pup, do it properly. You know how.”
“All right. I challenge you. When this is over, you and I will meet in the ring and—”
“Are you daft? With everything that’s going on? Silas would never allow it.”
“Should we ask him?”
Henry only glowers. “He wouldn’t let you challenge me, pup. You’re too valuable. ”
Bishop shakes his head and turns to lead me away, but Henry lunges, and Bishop spins, his fist slamming into Henry’s jaw. As Henry reels back, Bishop advances on him.
“Don’t attack me from behind,” he says. “Don’t touch my mate. Is that clear?”
Henry makes a rude gesture and stalks off in the other direction.
Bishop takes my bound hands and gently propels me forward. “We don’t have time to talk,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry for this. For what’s about to—” He cuts himself short. “I’m sorry. But it’ll be all right. Stay calm, no matter what Silas threatens. He wouldn’t dare follow through.”
Muffled voices waft through the double doors of the great hall. Bishop leans toward me, as if to say something else, but the doors swing open and Reginald steps out.
“Where’s Henry?” Reginald says.
“Taking the long way.”
Reginald sighs and shakes his head, an old dog forced to deal with the pups and all their petty squabbles. He holds the door.
“You better not have warned her,” Reginald whispers to Bishop as we pass.
“I have my orders,” Bishop says coldly. “I’m a loyal wolf.”
Bishop navigates me into the room. He’s still holding my wrists, which is an awkward and strange way to guide me. Then he releases me, and I realized he’s loosened my bonds enough so I can feel my hands again.
“My daughter!” Silas booms from across the hall. He throws open his arms, beaming at me, and bile rises on a wave of hate. He’s not even trying now. No one mistakes that greeting for anything but mockery, as a couple of the wolves chuckle.
“Looking a little worse for wear,” one calls.
“And smelling it!” another says.
My chin lifts, and I survey the room. The tables are all shoved to the side, the wolves gathered in groups. I catch sight of Julius, his distress obvious. He must realize he lacks his cousin’s talent for masking his emotions, because he retreats behind a group of others.
Oliver catches my gaze, his eyes full of sympathy as he keeps his countenance blank. Others shift in discomfort as I’m marched into the room, and I swear a growl ripples through the crowd.
“When my daughter first arrived,” my father calls, “I said I was glad for her fire. That hasn’t changed.
She’ll make an excellent mate for Bishop.
Fire to his ice. However, it seems she also inherited her mother’s love of eavesdropping and her aunt’s sense of self-importance.
That is unacceptable. My daughter must know her place.
She must accept that whatever her Alpha does—whether that Alpha is her father or her husband—is right beyond question. ”
My breathing picks up, rasping as blood drips from my nose. I instinctively try to breathe through my mouth, only to choke on the gag.
I hear Bishop’s words from earlier, apologizing for what’s about to happen. Then Reginald making sure Bishop didn’t warn me.
I’d barely registered what they were saying. Now I do.
I was brought here for a reason. For something Bishop felt the need to apologize about. For something he wasn’t allowed to warn me of.
Stay calm, no matter what Silas threatens. He wouldn’t dare follow through.
My father is going to punish me with something worse than confining me to my room.
I thought earlier that he wouldn’t dare damage my ability to bear children, but there are other things he can do—horrible things—that wouldn’t affect my womb. So many ways he could maim me—
My heart thuds so fast I can’t breathe.
“Cordelia!” my father shouts, and as Bishop takes my shoulder, I realize Silas must have already called my name at least once.
My head shoots up.
“Let this be a lesson to you,” he says. “Let it continue to be a lesson. I appreciate your fire, but you must learn to obey your master. Or others will pay the price.”
He waves toward a door. It opens and two wolves enter, dragging a woman between them, a sack over her head.
Silas pulls off the hood, and my aunt’s dark hair spills down.