Prologue #2
“I’m not finished.” Jethro sneers. “The feud between the Lovell and the Benyamina families has gone on for long enough.” Jethro perches on the end of the table in front of us and crosses his lithe legs.
“Now, personally, I couldn’t care less whether you all kill each other off.
Quite frankly, it would make my life a lot easier.
In fact, I thought kidnapping the Benyaminas’ guides and sabotaging the transportation of the vampire king and queen was the perfect retaliation for their attack on your blood warehouse, but it has now begun to affect the families and clans, which means I have to take action, and let’s just say I’m not in the mood. ”
“Now you wait just one damn minute.” The gentleman sitting next to Marcus on the right explodes out of his seat and points a finger at Jethro. He looks like an older version of Marcus, so I presume he’s Marcus’s father. “We are not in any way responsible for any attack on any warehouse.”
“Allegedly.” Seraphine, the butterfly fairy, pipes up from her seat on the far left. She sits perfectly still, not even her ice-blue wings flutter as she hovers inches above her seat and looks at him with disinterest.
“I assure you, this was not my family’s doing, and I resent the accusation.”
“We are not here to discuss your culpability in that particular matter. We are here merely to give a verdict, which we have done.” With each word from Emberlyn, the fire sprite, there’s a stirring of energy, and warmth settles through the room like a comfortable blanket, but I’m not fooled.
Her armor, forged from jagged black volcanic rock, is adorned with fiery veins of molten lava that crisscross boldly across her chest, pulsing with heat, so both Seraphine and Thaloran, the stag guardian, lean away from her slightly.
Throughout all this, Marcus has remained seated. Another reason for me to hope this arranged marriage gets stopped. I’ve seen a statue of a tree with more passion in one leaf than he displays with his whole body. I wonder if he’s the same when he fucks.
Unbidden, an image of Marcus leaning over my body and sliding his cock into me flashes through my head. My wolf growls her approval, and I snap my gaze away from him and look at the council. At this point it’s the lesser of the evils. Wow, where did that thought come from?
“Indeed, child,” a whisper echoes through my brain. I whip my head around looking for the one who spoke, but I only see Eryndor, the elven leader, adding to the argument for Marcus and me to marry against our will.
“It is I who spoke. The greatest witch to grace Everwild in three centuries.” I whip my head to the left where Athene, the owl witch, sits to the left of the alpha.
For a moment, I’m distracted by her elegant headdress made of shimmering mother-of-pearl feathers.
But then my attention snaps to the humor in her large, blue eyes.
Dear goddess, did I spew my moment of insanity out loud?
“No, but your thoughts assault me.” Her voice, soft but full of authority, resonates through my mind.
I look around to see if anyone can hear her, but everyone is still too engrossed in what Eryndor is saying, including Minerva, which I’m grateful for. She would ask questions I’m definitely not prepared to answer.
“How are you doing this? Can anyone else hear me?” I panic. Can the other council members hear what I’m thinking?
“No, only I can.”
“H… have you been listening in on all my thoughts?” I ask in horror.
“This is bullshit. How can you invade my privacy this way?” I’m sick to my stomach.
Not only do I have no control of my future, but now my thoughts are common knowledge.
And not just any thoughts either. Wait a minute…
“Did you put those thoughts in my mind? Is that what this is? Are you here to make me more pliable?”
“No, child. Those thoughts are purely yours. Why are you ashamed? Your future husband is a very virile man.”
“Virile? Are we talking about the same guy here?”
“Only you and I know your fantasies. I won’t waste my time asking irrelevant questions.”
“That’s it, get out of my head.” My fantasies. Whatever. Even my wildest imagination couldn’t make Marcus sexy. I’m convinced the witch put those thoughts in my head.
I work my hardest to put a mental block up and force myself to pay attention to what is happening in front of me and not in my mind. Marcus’s father and my father are having a heated argument over the accusations Jethro hurled. They aren’t new accusations, but the emotions are still raw.
“Enough,” the alpha growls, silencing the room immediately. “We’ve heard the opinion of some of the members. I will allow the rest to express their vote, and that will be it. This is not up for debate.”
One by one, the remaining members of the council pound more nails in my coffin, and my stomach sinks with dread.
My wolf has even stopped pacing restlessly and has adopted an unsettling quiet.
Urskar, the bear shaman, gives me a sympathetic bow, but his vote, the last one, makes the decision unanimous.
“As I said”—the alpha glares at my father, then Marcus’s family—“the council all agree. You will have one month to get your affairs in order and return here for the mating ceremony. From then on, you will treat your new children with the same amount of love and respect you do your own. If I so much as hear of any one of you showing a member of the other pack anything other than the respect they deserve, you will be excommunicated, never to receive the assistance of the council again. And we all know that is a death sentence to your business and livelihood. Marcus, Esmerelda, the onus is on you to convince your packs that this is what you want. You do not want to let us down. I am in my final three years of my second term as council leader. I will not leave my successor with this mess. It ends now.”
Neither Marcus nor I answer him, but that doesn’t faze the alpha in the least. He knows we have no choice. Like he said, without the council members’ aid, we are essentially the walking dead.
“I think the words you are looking for are, yes, Alpha,” says Lilywen, the elder of the flower fairies. Her periwinkle and purple braid snaps like a whip as she fixes her glare on us.
Again, we both do nothing but stare until Nyrielle speaks up.
“I’m sure neither of you mean the disrespect you are showing the alpha at this time.
We’ll put all this down to shock, or surprise, or dare I say, excitement.
” The whirlpool surrounding the water nymph’s feet quickens as she stares us down.
I clench my jaw, preparing to speak, but a deep, melodic voice rings out in the room as Marcus stands.
His height could be intimidating to some, but not to me.
“Apologies for my silence, Alpha. It is indeed what Nyrielle says. The excitement of the day held my tongue hostage. Thank you for this opportunity.”
Thank you for this opportunity? I barely suppress a scoff. You have got to be kidding me. Where is this guy’s backbone?
Minerva pinches my side when I just gawk at Marcus. I rise. “I will not dishonor my family, Alpha.” There, that’s the best I can do. Let them interpret it as they wish. I won’t commit to loving this asshole. Or tolerating him. The best I can do is not kill him. The absolute best.
The alpha nods, and the council members slowly file out. The energy of the room becomes more natural now that it’s just our respective families left.
“Holy shit, Esme. Holy shit.” Minerva’s eyes are wide with shock. “In a month you’ll be married.”
Her words hit me in the gut harder than the alpha’s did. And so, my sentence on death row begins.