33. Belle
Belle
The halls have always felt, well, for a lack of a better word, hollow.
Now it’s worse, like a black hole, sucking every morsel of hope into oblivion.
I’d like to think I’d know Lord Pan was back without anyone telling me—I could sense the danger in the walls, perhaps another layer of my talents. Who knows how far they go?
I’m dressed in green finery, a frilly-necked dress, cinched with a tight corset—perfect for hiding things—and heavy skirts. I insisted on keeping my hair down, shooting Rosalia a look to help my case with Julia and Clarette.
“Did you do it?” Rosalia whispers, walking behind me as we march down the marble halls, the other two maids leading the way.
“Yes,” I bite through a whisper.
“Don’t reveal anything yet. It’s not time. We’re not ready.”
I want to ask her who this we is, but it’s clearly pertinent that we keep this whisper-match short.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I wasn’t planning on anything really.
I thought I’d have more preparation before meeting Lord Pan again.
I always knew he could return at any minute, but I hoped I’d have a few moments to converse with Rosalia about what to do next.
I have my powers, yet I have no idea what I’m capable of.
Perhaps I could solder his dick off if push came to shove.
But no, as exciting as that sounds, a dickless Lord wouldn’t equal my freedom.
“Did you hear? There is rioting in the streets.” Clarette whispers to Julie. It seems the halls are full of secrets today.
The ladies push open the dining room door, and my stomach drops as Lord Pan is revealed at the center of the long table, a gold crown resting atop his head, taking me in with emerald eyes, the same eyes I’ve grown so fond of, yet so different.
As the door opens more, the green eyes of my heart are revealed.
Peter, next to his father, straight-backed and without a readable expression on his perfect face.
He looks as much like a prince as I’ve ever seen, his hair combed back, his skin unblemished, and those eyes—I could get lost in them.
Perhaps I have, because surely, I trusted him too much.
He’s sitting next to his father. Waiting for me with his father.
The father who wanted him or his brother to rape me.
Peter said he loved me, but this doesn’t look like love from where I’m standing.
Peter’s potential betrayal is a good distraction because, instead of fear, only anger exists.
Rosalia squeezes my hand before all three maids bow and exit the room, shutting the doors behind them.
Lord Pan smiles. “Ah, Belle, so glad you could join us. Please sit.”
My muscles tense, and my fingers ache to feel the back of my neck, just to ensure my Darling didn’t move. I try to search Peter’s face for answers, but he won’t look at me. He shimmies his ring around his finger.
I sit. I don’t want to follow Pan’s orders, but there’s not much else to do without blowing my cover.
Lord Pan grins before cutting into a flaky pastry covered in fine powder. “I’ve heard you had some fun while I was away.” He takes a bite, lounging back in his seat and eying me.
I remain statuesque.
Lord Pan motions around the room toward the four imposing figures positioned in the corners. “The Shadows talk. You might not notice them, but that’s the point. They see all and report back to me.”
Shit. I’m fucked. He knows about my scheming.
He knows about the broken Darling hidden in plain sight.
I scramble to strategies, reaching to strike, but before I do anything rash, he clears his throat.
“I must say, I didn’t think it would pan out like this.
I’d been busy, dealing with the rebels, the vermins with daggers, but hearing that not only one of my boys bed the pixie prize, but two, well, it gave me a newfound spring of spirit, enough to squash a horde of foes and return home to see which son has claimed the throne. ”
My shoulders sag, no longer holding the anxiety of my secret. He just heard we all fucked. This is…good, I think?
There’s no food in front of me. Pan and Peter both have plates dressed with puffy delicacies. Perhaps I’m not here to dine.
As if an answer to my thoughts, Pan snaps his fingers, and the Shadows approach, grabbing my arms.
“What the fuck?” My innate reaction is to thrash, but I will myself to still. My fingertips buzz, a subtle reminder that I’m capable of defending myself, capable but still unable.
Peter’s eyes finally flick to mine, wide with panic, but his lips don’t move.
“Grand Sirrel, please come in.” I turn toward the opening doors, an ancient, gray-bearded man enters, his eyes assessing me behind his circular, thin-wired spectacles. He bows.
I swear, Pan’s teeth sharpen behind his curved lips. “Belle, Dear, Grand Sirrel is Hollowbrook’s Alchemist. He’s going to examine you to see if you’re with child and who’s the rightful heir of Neverhaven.”
My stomach rolls in my abdominal cavity. “Yeah, no thanks, fucker.”
He shakes his head. “That mouth of yours. I debated whether I should let you keep it. Both of my boys are disappointments in their own ways, but I surmised that they needed a fire to light their loins. It seems my plans have worked.”
I hate that he’s right. I jabbered my insults and protests just as he wanted me to, inciting something within both brothers.
Ultimately, it led to me practically begging his sons to bed me.
And somehow, worst of all, I’m in love with both of them, and Pan is the cause of all of it.
It almost makes me want to erase both boys from my heart and mind entirely—almost.
The Shadows drag me to my feet, presenting me before the wizard-looking man. His cracked lips part with scratchy words. “I will attempt to make the procedure as painless as possible. It will help if you don’t fight it. Now, lie on the table.”
My lizard brain nearly takes charge. It would be stupid to fight.
I don’t believe I’m powerful enough to escape a room full of men, even with my regained powers.
I should let the geezer perform his archaic ultrasound, but my body and my mind are at odds.
I’m about to resist, to reveal the Darling without even intending to, but Peter jumps to his feet, swiping his place setting off the table.
“No.” The word comes out in a low grumble.
Pan gives him a curious expression. “What do you mean no?”
“Stop. She clearly doesn’t want to be examined.”
Pan scoffs. “I don’t care what she wants.
I want to know who my next heir is so I can pass down the crown and have Neverhaven restored.
Then the lowly people will stay in their place and stop sticking out their necks in desperation.
” He snaps his fingers and makes himself comfortable in his chair, gripping the armrests. “Proceed.”
“No!” Peter shouts.
Pan’s eyes crinkle in disgust. “That’s enough from you.
Silence.” He snaps, and Peter's lips clamp together.
His cheeks blow out as if his mouth has been glued shut.
His face turns red and he charges his father, hand reaching for his throat.
But before he meets his skin, he freezes in mid-air, his golden ring glowing around his rigid fingers.
“Peter,” I whisper, my heart breaking into a million pieces, realizing the truth. He was never my captor. We’re one and the same, except somehow, his imprisonment is so much more tragic.
Pan rises to his feet, glaring at his red-faced son, who’s attempting to break free of the Darling wrapped around his finger. “Enough of this tantrum,” he seethes through clenched teeth. He addresses the room. “Let’s get this over with.”
I’m lifted onto the table and pressed down on the wooden surface. I don’t take my eyes off Peter, too focused on his pain to worry about the upcoming loss of my autonomy.
His tear-soaked eyes pass silent apologies.
The Alchemist grabs my ankles, pushing up my heavy skirts. “Now let’s see here…”
The doors burst open with a roar. Rourke takes one look at me, and his eyes turn black. He knocks the Shadows holding me down to the floor with a blunt hit to their jugulars. I wondered if the beast was gone, but it's apparent that his softness is only for me. I’ve never loved him more.
Rourke grabs the tiny man inching up my legs, and throws him against the wall, his body bouncing before hitting the floor.
Rourke directs his attention to his father, inhaling heavy breaths before climbing over the table, and lunging for him like a wild animal.
Rourke stops midair, right before he reaches Pan, crashing down to the wooden table below him, his human hand outstretched, his rose ring glowing golden.
“Rourke!” I yell, flipping from my back and crawling to him. I pull his head into my lap, and his beastly scowl softens. He runs a hand down my chin, and I nearly feel the heat from his ring.
“What in Star’s name is going on here!?” Lord Pan yells, the room trembling from his anger. “Everyone out!”
I prepare to stand and flee, but of course, the demand isn’t for me. The Shadows and Grandpa Gyno flee the room.
Pan reaches past Rourke and hooks my collar with his finger, dragging me off the table into his lap. My insides tighten, so sure he’ll catch the added chain or I’ll mess up and resist even the slightest.
Peter and Rourke stare at me, eyes wide with horror, looking less like men and more like terrified boys. Not for themselves, though. Their fear is solely for me.
“This is unacceptable. What is wrong with you both?”
“I love her,” Rourke says, his jaw so tight I’m certain he’ll crack his teeth. “I love her, and if you don’t stop touching her, I will do whatever it takes to remove the head from your neck.”
Pan is stunned silent for a moment. He looks at me, seated in his lap, his searing gaze examining my side profile. “What have you done to my boy?” he asks, sorrowful.
I don’t assume he wants an answer, but I give him one anyway. “It seems he’s my boy now.” I grin.