Chapter 10 Marcus #2
Esmerelda’s mother stretches across the table and grasps Olivia’s hand.
Her own smile could send us all into a diabetic coma.
“Of course not. I was going to prepare something, but I’m very happy you jumped the gun.
There’s nothing better than being a guest and reaping the rewards of someone else’s hard work. Did you prepare the food?”
She presents the question with just enough sugar to make you question if it’s genuine or a jab. I’d hazard a guess it’s the latter, and my lip curls at the corner.
Olivia’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and the lines surrounding her mouth pull taut from the effort of keeping her composure. “Marcus was so kind to offer his staff for the preparations. So, I’m in the same boat as you. And truly grateful.”
I don’t feel awkward often, but I’m not in the mood for a catfight this evening.
I have enough tension in my home without these two adding to it, especially with Captain Council sitting opposite me.
I swear, all she needs is a notebook to record every interaction.
It feels like I have a counselor at my table, not a council member. I need to move this along.
I refill my glass, and those with empty ones do the same.
“Getting back to my speech. My memory isn’t working all that well at the moment, so I might forget what I practiced.
” There’s another outburst of chuckles, and I’m relieved that the Lovells at least have a sense of humor.
Unlike my family, who are practically shooting daggers at me.
When I glance at my father, he looks far from amused.
I suppose I’m in for another lecture. Best I get back to it then.
“I’d also like to thank Councilwoman Tallulah Minto-ho-yo for being here to ensure Esmerelda and I don’t maim each other.
” I pause as another round of chuckles ripples across the table.
“Though I suspect your job is far from over. I may not have known much about my wife before we met, but a man learns quickly, and the hard way, about rushing his wife when getting ready.”
Both my father and Esmerelda’s nod knowingly, although mine is still salty about my joke.
I lift my glass. “In all seriousness, I stand here before you, not just as Esmerelda’s husband, but as one half of a union that has carried the weight of old wars and wounds for far too long.
What began as a forced union, a convenient solution for the council’s fears, has become an opportunity. One I intend to make good on.”
I slice a glance at Tallulah, letting her know that remark was for her ears, and that she’s welcome to take it back to the council. I may not want to be banished, but I’m doing everything they asked of me, so there’s fuck all they can do about the odd snide remark.
I can feel myself digressing, so I continue.
“There is power in peace. And while my wife and I didn’t choose this path, we have chosen to walk this life together.
For our people, but most importantly, for all of you sitting around this table.
And perhaps one day, what is now obligation will turn into something more. ”
I take a sip of my wine to hide my shock. I suppose it isn’t too much of a shock considering I’ve been doomed to a loveless marriage. And while I’m certain I’ll never grow to love Esmerelda—who could?—I would like to live a comfortable existence with her.
“Apologies, everyone, I jumped the gun with my toast. I invite you all to drink to new beginnings, but most importantly, to peace.”
I raise my glass high before taking a long drink of the tart wine. Perhaps if I’m drunk, tonight will be easier. Everyone gives a hearty cheer and drinks, although the entire room stinks of conflicting emotions. My wolf moves restlessly beneath my skin, as sick of this charade as I am.
I’m exhausted. I sit down carefully when all I want to do is flop down in my chair. “Please, everyone. Eat.”
My “guests” seem hesitant to eat without Esmerelda here, so I turn to Esmerelda’s father. “Apologies, sir. Would you be so kind as to pass the roast potatoes?”
Mr. Lovell stretches across the table and grabs the overflowing dish of golden potatoes.
As he passes them to me, he stops. I wonder if he’s expecting me to gush my thanks or something before he fulfills my request. I shift in my seat and refill my goblet, and when I turn back, he still hasn’t moved.
He’s staring fixatedly, his mouth agape, a look of sheer terror blooming in his rapidly blinking eyes.
“Mr. Lovell? Are you okay?”
His eyes, wild, bulging, lock on mine, and sheer terror radiates from him. Then I see it. The impossible. He’s petrifying.
I’m out of my chair before my mind catches up, the heavy oak legs screeching across the wooden floor.
The dish of potatoes slips from his fingers and shatters against the boards, shards of porcelain and crispy potatoes skidding all over the floor.
The sharp crack echoes in my skull, tangled with the rising pitch of voices around us.
“Help me.” His words are strangled, guttural, already cracking under the strain of what’s happening inside his body. From the knees up, stone begins to swallow him.
A chorus of terrified screams breaks loose, chairs toppling, cutlery clattering as people shove back from the table.
“Help!” My voice rips from me before I can even think to yell.
Esmerelda, Leonard, and Min burst into the dining room.
The instant Esmerelda sees her father, a sound tears out of her—high, raw, and keening.
Not human. Not even wolf. It’s the sound of something breaking in a place so deep, I can feel it splinter in my chest. Ice floods my veins.
Not adrenaline. Not heat. Just cold dread clawing up my stomach.
“Please. Please, someone help me,” Mr. Lovell begs again, his voice frayed and shaking. His lower body is locked solid, gray marble where flesh should be. His upper body jerks violently, desperate to escape what’s already claimed half of him.
This is a man I’ve heard about in stories. Brave, unyielding, feared. As alpha, he’s stared down silver blades and enemies without flinching. But now, seeing him plead for his life…it’s wrong in a way I can’t put into words.
Inch by nightmarish inch, the stone creeps higher. His final scream is an unholy sound that will brand itself into my memory to fester there.
“Lay him down.” The words tumble from my mouth, but I feel detached, like I’m watching someone else speak.
Esmerelda’s face… Gods. I’ve never seen pain like that. Not even when Leonard grieved over Jake and Jackson. She turns to me, eyes red, cheeks slick with tears.
“Please, Marcus. Please do something.”
Her voice splinters on the last word, and for a heartbeat, I falter. It nearly breaks me in half. But I will not, cannot, let her father die in my house.
Mrs. Lovell drops to her knees beside him, clutching his petrified hand.
“Iziah, don’t you dare leave me. Please, I can’t live without you. Let’s go to our maze. Come with me into the maze.”
He shifts the only thing he can…his eyes. One tear escapes, carving a wet trail down his graying cheek. There’s an apology in his gaze, and then…nothing. His eyes go glassy. Two perfect, terrible orbs of stone.
The world narrows to a tunnel. My legs move before I think, carrying me to the herb cabinet just outside the dining room.
My hands tear at jars, sending lids clattering to the floor as I grab stalks, leaves, anything that might work.
I crush them in the mortar, the grating of the marble on marble a merciless rhythm in my ears.
It doesn’t drown out the sobs. Or the panic.
I work faster than I ever have, but these stalks are stubborn, and time is bleeding away with every heartbeat.
When I rush back into the room, the scene hits me like a physical blow. Esmerelda’s father isn’t the only one. The petrification is spreading. Two more guests are half-gone, their limbs locked and faces frozen mid-scream.
“I need more help!” I bellow at Tammy, one of my servers.
She doesn’t hesitate, bolting from the room. Within seconds, staff and healers flood in, shoving past one another to those affected.
But it’s too late. Before our hands can even touch them, the transformation sweeps through the last of them like a tsunami. In moments, every single person at the table is replaced with cold stone.
And I’m standing in the middle of it, surrounded by statues that used to be people I was supposed to protect.