Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Violet
Leaving his second and third with Rafe and Lark, Atlas takes me to meet a matronly woman he introduces as Grace. With white hair and a beaming smile, she clucks over me like I’m a long-lost daughter.
I had only vague notions of what might happen next. Despite Atlas’s determination that nothing untoward was about to befall me, I was nevertheless wary and braced for ravishment.
I was not expecting this and am deeply conscious of my situation, being covered in crusted cum and wearing only a barely adequate pelt.
“Aye, the lass needs something to wear other than a pelt,” Grace says, admonishing Atlas with a click of her tongue. “And some shoes, lest her poor feet get cold.”
“If I had my way, she would be naked,” he replies bluntly, turning my thoughts back to ravishment…
My eyes shoot to his, going wide—the devilish male smirks.
“I’ll see to it at once,” Grace says. “We’ll get her something from the stores. And what after, my lord?”
“She is to be my personal attendant,” Atlas says, all hint of amusement gone. “Have her bring my morning refreshments to my room.”
Grace bobs her head.
Without another glance at me, Atlas pivots and strides off.
I stare after him.
“There now, lass,” Grace says. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes. And maybe a bit of breakfast. I heard you went into heat. Have you eaten anything since?”
“Ah—no. I don’t believe I did,” I say, inadequately. Talking about my heat and whether or not I ate anything is strangely intimate.
“Well, don’t you worry, lass. We’ll get you fed. Atlas expects his morning refreshment at ten promptly, so we’d best be ready for that. He’s a fair leader, but very regimented. Doesn’t do to keep him waiting, mind you.”
This is all very curious. I’m escorted into a room full of warm, steamy air and rows of cubicles with cloth openings. When I peek inside the one she stops at, I find a copper bath, complete with plumbing.
“Go ahead,” she says. “You’ll find all the soaps set out. Towels are in the rack behind. I’ll get you fresh clothes.” She bustles off, dragging the cloth over the entry to enclose me in, her footsteps fading into the distance.
I put the plug in and turn on the tap, and warm water spews into the bath in no time, filling the space with warm, fragrant air. As soon as it’s full, I drop the dirty pelt to the floor and clamber in.
Bliss.
I’ve been traveling for so very long. It’s not often easy—or even possible—to get a decent bath.
It’s one of the few things I miss about my once stately home: the availability of ready hot water.
This bath is simple and rustic compared to my personal bathing chamber back at my family residence.
Still, my expectations were reset long ago, and finding a bounty of clean, warm water is heaven.
The herby soap on the side smells wonderful, and I wash myself, ridding my body of the filth of my heat, washing what happened away.
The last time I washed myself was in a stream… when my memories began to return, and just before the griffins arrived… The terror of that moment comes back to me, and my breath catches in my throat.
I have gone through my heat while griffins watched.
How did I ever forget what happened between us? It’s like waking from a deep dream—one full of shadows and darkness—and stepping into the light. And yet, there were specters watching me, and they took the form of griffins.
My cheeks are hot with shame.
Not only shame, I admit, for there is arousal all mixed up with a softness that is unmistakably love for Rafe and Lark.
I regret nothing that happened, and certainly not my bonding to two beta men, not even that Atlas and his select pride members watched.
My only regret is that I did not recognize what Rafe and Lark meant to me sooner.
How my sister would scorn my choice of two such lowly men, and how I pity her narrow mind.
She might have an alpha of high standing, but I have found something far more precious than status or wealth—I have found true love with men who have demonstrated their nature through deeds a thousand times over.
Finished washing my body, I focus on my filthy, knotty hair. Scrubbing it vigorously, rinsing, and repeating until it is squeaky clean. Then I apply some of the soft hair balm I find in a little pot and work the comb through.
Little bruises dot my breasts. My lips are tender and puffy… my pussy is very sore indeed. It clenches savagely as I remember staring at what Lark did to me. I can’t believe he put his whole… I mean… Goddess, it was compelling. A tingling awareness spreads between my thighs just thinking about it.
I wonder if he will do it again, even without my heat. Whether I would like it… need it.
Shamelessly, I think that I shall.
I wish I still had my diary. This must be many pages worth of notes. I have kept a journal since I was little and, where possible, completed it every day. To think of it lying lost and forgotten on the forest floor, where it will rot and turn to dust, fills me with sorrow.
Maybe if I asked Atlas would go back and find it?
Maybe not…
Why I’m worried about it, when I should be worried about what’s happening to Lark and Rafe, eludes me. Maybe my mind is conjuring things worse than reality. I mean, perhaps they’re merely helping the other servants, like I appear to be. Maybe I’m reading this all wrong.
“It’s only me,” Grace calls brightly from behind the curtain. She ducks around it, bustles in, and drops a pile of clothes on the stool beside me. “I’ll be back shortly, then we’ll get you some breakfast.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, realizing my skin is starting to wrinkle I have been in here so long.
Quickly climbing out of the bath, I dry myself and survey the clothes.
Stockings… A long shift, but no underwear.
Next comes a woolen dress—a simple garment with crisscrossed braids at the front that can be pulled for fit.
My old boots have been cleaned and polished, though there are plenty of scuffs from travel. Still, they are serviceable.
My hair is long, very curly, and I’m pulling the drying strands into a long braid when Grace returns.
“There, looking much better,” she says brightly. “Come with me, lass. Let’s get you some food.”
I’m taken to a bustling kitchen where I feel incredibly shy.
Not that anybody appears to pay me any attention as Grace sits me down at the huge central table and brings over a hefty platter—boiled eggs, cured ham, cheese, fresh bread, and soft butter that tastes delicious when I slather it over the bread with honey.
I’m ravenous and tuck into it with enthusiasm.
The rest of the kitchen workers continue to ignore me as they go about their duties.
A pot of tea arrives next. I sweeten it a little with honey. Everything is simple but tasty.
As I’m finishing up, a young woman begins to prepare a tray beside me: a pot of tea, a cup and saucer, and a plate filled with similar breakfast food topped with a silver dome.
“I’m Posey,” she says, smiling. “I’ll show you where the Lord’s room is so you can take him his refreshment.”
I wipe the crumbs from my mouth with a napkin and rise.
“Where should I put these?” I glance around, wondering if I should clear my empty plates away.
“I’ll tidy it up afterward.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “The time is getting on. We mustn’t keep his lordship waiting. He’s very particular about punctuality.”
I pick up the tray she has set. It is heavy and cumbersome… I’m not well practiced at being a servant and feel a little churlish that this is to be my lot. There are worse things, I reflect, but still…
She escorts me through the eyrie, chatting happily as we walk. She points out things I’m sure to forget: the barracks, the stores, the training grounds, the Great Hall, and the corridors that lead to the quarters and the workshop.
“This is the master’s study,” Posey says as we stop before a grand wooden door. “We always knock, await his permission to enter, and then go in.”
The tray is large and heavy. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to knock while holding it, but she smiles and knocks for me.
A gruff call comes from within. She pushes the door open and steps aside so I can enter.
My stomach flutters with nerves as I find Atlas sitting like a king behind a huge wooden desk in a stately study.
“You are to wait inside,” Posey whispers. “The Lord will instruct you on what he wishes.”
Atlas glances up, brows gathering in a scowl that makes me quake and full of uncertainty. I don’t know how it’s possible for him to look more imposing while sitting, but somehow, he does.
The door thuds shut behind me, trapping me alone with him.
His wings suddenly manifest behind him with a distinct snap. His frown deepens, and he mutters something under his breath, then sighs heavily.
They waft a little. Utterly resplendent. “They are so beautiful,” I murmur wistfully.
He glares at me. I shut my mouth and remind myself to be quiet and invisible like a good servant should.
“Put it on the table,” he says, tapping the wooden surface to his right.
“Oh, yes, of course.” I hurry over. The tray lands with a clatter. The wings are very distracting. I try not to look at them, but they move constantly, creating a draft that sends little wafts of his musky scent over me.
Not sure what to do with myself, I glance up and get a little lost in his strange, whirling eyes.
“Kneel,” he says gruffly.
“Kneel?” I squeak, confused.
His lips curve slightly. “Is my request in some way confusing?”
Yes. Very. “No, my lord.”
He gestures to a cushion on the floor beside him, which I only now notice. “Kneel, pet.”
I swallow. My tummy takes a slow tumble. A strange pulse kicks off deep in my core. I’m not convinced I want to kneel, but I don’t have a choice.
Round the desk, I gather my skirts and drop down to my knees on the indicated cushion.
“Good girl,” he says.
My eyes flash to meet his.