Chapter 31
?PAEONIA
Paeonia hadn’t seen Rowan in over a day.
When she rose the next morning, she was determined to ask him about his brother. To get more details out of him. To figure this curse—or whatever it was—out.
She slid on a light-green dress, its fabric warm, the neckline cut low.
She pulled her hair back, loose tendrils framing her face.
She asked Ren, then Sybil, but no one seemed to be able to tell her where Rowan was.
When she ate breakfast in the dining room, he never joined her.
She ground her teeth together. He always disappeared.
Fine. She wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him. She stood and began exploring the castle.
The castle was so large, with so many halls and rooms, she didn’t know where to begin. Until a deep pull seated in her lower belly. She ignored it at first, checking the observatory, then his study. Perhaps she could somehow manage to find his chambers again; maybe he hadn’t left his room.
That pull tugged in her gut relentlessly.
She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes.
She knew what this meant and dreaded it.
But she finally allowed herself to follow the invisible tug.
It was like she trailed a ribbon, one lingering in the air and guiding her.
She knew where it would lead her. Who it was taking her to.
But she didn’t want to think more on the matter, still refusing to accept Rowan’s words.
Maybe this was just her magic—something else she struggled to fully accept—at work.
She approached an iron door, one that she presumed led to the cellar. She had seen Rowan exit through here one day, locking the door behind him. When she tugged at the handle, it was locked. She slid the key from around her neck and into the keyhole, clicking it open.
If the key worked here, perhaps Rowan had wanted Paeonia to find him. Wanted her to ask him about his brother. Maybe he needed her in a different way than she suspected.
The stairs descended around and around, the darkness broken by the dancing candlelight of sconces mounted to the wall. She was hesitant in her movements, listening as she went further down. When she reached the end of the stairs, her eyes went wide as she faced several empty cells. Prison cells.
“Rowan,” she called quietly, her voice echoing. She wrapped her arms around her midsection.
“Pae?” a masculine voice answered, but it wasn’t Rowan’s.
She moved with a bit more haste, spotting hands clung to a set of prison bars.
“Pae!” Barth said again as if she was his savior.
She froze, staring at him. “Barth,” she spoke quietly, trying to make sense of what she saw. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes roved over her. “Are you hurt?”
She inched closer, and he outstretched a hand. She reluctantly did the same so he could latch their hands together, so easily slipping back into the compliant fiancée. His hands were cold.
She shook her head.
He sighed in relief. Then he flipped her hand over, feeling the ring on her finger. “It’s,” he stuttered. “It’s true.”
She gaped at him. “Barth, how did you get down—?”
“You really are engaged to that beast,” he said solemnly.
She gasped as he drew her closer to the bars. “Pae,” he said with hurt, shaking his head as if he might cry. “I’ll get you out of here, I promise.”
Her lips quivered.
A sense of hopelessness lingered in his expression. “Pae?”
She tugged her hand from his grip at the nickname.
She didn’t want him here. Didn’t want him to rescue her and take her back.
The thought of striding to her cottage, her father at the door, Barth’s arm wrapped around her, made her sick.
Her father would be so thankful Barth rescued her.
How in love they were. She’d be back in the same position that led her to Rowan’s gardens in the first place.
And she’d be no closer to saving her father.
Barth’s face sank. “I’m sorry for that night, Pae,” he quickly added, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I don’t know why I called you that foul name.
I—” He shook his head, his fist clenching.
“I’ve been so stupid. I haven’t stopped replaying it in my mind, Paeonia.
” He gripped the bars. “You’re in my dreams every night. I never want to hurt you again.”
She took another step back, biting her lip, unsure of how to stop the rising panic in her throat. He shouldn’t apologize, because then she might be apt to forgive him.
“Why are you here?” she asked again, afraid she already knew the answer.
“That,” he paused, searching for the word, “beast took me here. Said he tricked you into marrying him.” He pleaded with her. “I’ve been searching for you ever since you disappeared. And knowing you had been captured by some evil fae this entire time—” He shook his head in pain and disgust.
“I’m…” She couldn’t find the words to tell him that she didn’t need his help. “He hasn’t hurt me.”
“I’ll get you out of this,” he urged, reaching for her.
She took another step away when she collided with a warm body. She froze. Rowan’s large hand rested on her shoulder, a hot sensation teasing her exposed skin.
“Are you tormenting my wife?” he asked darkly.
Barth snarled. “Wife? You already fucking married her?”
“You say it like I forced her.”
Barth’s warm eyes darted to Paeonia, his look pleading. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, his voice soft when he directed it at her, pain lingering in each of his words.
Rowan’s hand on her shoulder urged her forward. She flashed him a glance, knowing what he was doing—always reading her thoughts. So, Paeonia summoned the courage.
“I’m so sorry, Barth. I—” She swallowed hard.
“I never wanted to hurt you. But it’s true.
I did marry Rowan.” She wrung her hands.
“He didn’t force me. I did it out of my own volition.
” If she implied she didn’t want this marriage, if he helped her null it, then she’d be available for Barth again.
She wanted to believe she had learned to say no, but she figured this was easier.
Barth reared back, stunned, like he couldn’t physically believe her words. “You…”
“Barth, it’s not what you think. I’ve made a bargain. I’m doing it to save— Tell me, is Father okay?”
“Your father?” he asked quietly. “You dare ask about your father after laying with this… beast,” he spat, anger riddling his tone.
“Barth,” she tried to coax, panic rising within her, like she was ruining everything. All her chances.
“It’s like I don’t even know who you are. Have you always been a godforsaken beast-fucker, and I was too blinded to see it? Is that why you were such a prude? Can only get off for some wild animal, Pae?”
That easy switch in Barth’s demeanor had a vise closing in on her throat.
“Do not call her that.”
Barth snarled, his face ugly and menacing. Not how she remembered. “Beast. Fucker,” he reiterated, malice coating every word.
Rowan laughed. “No”—he shook his head—“not that.”
Barth’s eyes flickered from Rowan’s to hers, the recognition dawning on him. “You can’t be serious? I’ve always called you ‘Pae.’”
Paeonia’s eyes shied away, clutching her skirts. “I never liked that name,” she whispered.
“Never liked—?” he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Who even are you?”
Shame coursed through her. She should have told Barth long ago that she didn’t like that name.
She sank further into Rowan’s chest, and his other hand found her waist, spinning her to face him.
The tears she wanted to shed were not coming to the surface.
Perhaps she should be glad for Barth’s hateful words—to finally be rid of him.
To break whatever tie that she still attached to him.
Rowan’s finger slid under her chin and tilted her head up. Something furious lingered in his eyes. Something wicked and dark.
“Why is he here?” Paeonia whispered.
“Did you expect me not to act on the fact that he had touched you—assaulted you?”
“You make it sound like he committed a crime.” She mirthlessly let out a strained laugh.
“He did.”
Shame warmed her cheeks.
“And now,” he began, “after I show him you’re safe and well taken care of, he ridicules you.” He cocked his head. “He wants to punish you for finding your autonomy.”
“Rowan,” she muttered.
“Him thinking he can cast you aside—that this is his decision to reject you. That he had some sort of claim over you.” His voice dropped, his eyes flashing with rage. “So, I can either take my instincts out on you, or him.”
“Instincts?”
“You are my mate, whether you like it or not. And the urge to claim you before him is so strong, that I can either do that, or kill him.”
“And if I want you to do neither?”
Several beats of silence passed between them. His voice calmed, but there was still a rigid edge to it as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Then, much to my dismay, I will control myself. But, I have a feeling you do want me to do one of the two.”
She gulped. He was right, and she hated herself for it.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a low murmur.
“K-kiss me? Right now?”
He nodded.
Her hand instinctively grabbed onto his shirt, grasping it in her fingers, the soft material grounding her.
He took that as an answer enough and clashed his lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, his mouth moving slowly, savoring her. Tasting her. His hand slid around the back of her neck and into her loose updo, his other hot on her hip. Her heart raced rapidly in her chest, her thoughts dissipating.
There was fire where he kissed her, sizzling and warm, soft and sweet, his tongue stroking along her lips. She opened her mouth, and he thrusted his tongue inside. She mewled and would have felt embarrassed by the noise if Rowan hadn’t rumbled a groan in response.