48
Pounding on the steel door opened my eyes.
Voran was awake, staring at a spider crawling on a tree root above the bed. Sensing I was too, he whispered, “They wait.” He continued to trail his fingers over my back between gentle squeezes of my rear. “When we leave this cave, we cannot talk.”
I didn’t need to ask why.
We needed to keep this bond a secret for as long as possible. I could do that. I was used to keeping us a secret.
But when he kissed my forehead and left the bed, reality chilled me.
“The wolves will remain for the results of the scenting,” Voran said, pulling his pants over his tantalizing hips. Venom crispened his tone. “And no doubt some of the wealthy who came to spectate.”
That explained the other citizens at the river. They had influence. Enough to allow them a glimpse of this ridiculously outdated trial.
“Raxon will escort you back to your sleigh. I’ll be right behind you.” His voice lowered—dropped to barely a whisper. “Do not acknowledge me. You pretend I don’t exist, return to the palace, and prepare for the wedding.”
Tonight.
I would wed his uncle tonight.
“Should you need to, you are to say you were entirely unaware that we were fated. You say that I forced you to accept the bond.”
The look he served me was one of cold and unflinching severity.
Though panic strangled my heart, I nodded once.
He retrieved his tunic and the pelt, placing the latter on the bed beside me. “Put it back on.” A clipped order, thickened by his accent.
I sat up and pulled the pelt to me, stroking the soft fur that had belonged to the first queen to endure this trial. To enter this cottage-like cave to give all of herself to her impending husband. “The wolves know your scent, Voran.”
He paused in putting on his tunic. “As Raxon said, it will fail to matter.” Pushing his muscular arms through the sleeves, he then tugged it over his head. “What matters is that you surrendered, and that you leave here with him and continue to do as he says.”
Right.
There was little point in delaying the inevitable. Certainly not with so many waiting. So, as Voran finished dressing, I donned the pelt and climbed from the bed. I combed my fingers through my hair as I went to him.
Another pounding against the door halted me. Muffled words followed. I didn’t need to hear them to know that someone was telling us we had to leave.
A muscle feathered in Voran’s jaw. He prowled across the stone floor—toward the other door.
The one that hid his uncle. My soon-to-be husband.
My throat closed. “Voran.” When he reached for the handle, I couldn’t keep from whispering, “I don’t think I can do this.”
His hand drifted from the small door.
For some moments, he just stood there with his back facing me. Then his broad shoulders dropped. “You can.” He strode across the cave. “You must.”
I shook my head. Tears blurred my vision. The fear I’d spent the night ignoring crept into each breath, straining them.
He stole my face, lifted it, and lowered his head to mine. Roughly, he repeated, “You must, broshklin.”
“B-but how can you say that?” I tried to retreat. “I’m about to marry your—”
He kissed me.
Bruising, then gradually softening. He said to my mouth, “I can say that because even if you married everyone in this fucking kingdom, you would still be all mine.”
Then he went to open the door for his uncle.
I made sure I was as covered as I could be when the steel groaned. Made sure there were no tears in my eyes before I let them rise. But the king wasn’t there.
No longer was Voran.
Darkness loomed beyond the open door—a tunnel three feet from the stone floor. I didn’t go near it. I waited until Raxon appeared some minutes later. He stepped down from the tunnel’s entrance. Shaking soil from his cloak, he walked to the table.
Peering into the basket, the king said, “You didn’t so much as touch the food.”
“I did not feel particularly hungry,” I said, my tone intentionally cool.
A grape was tossed into his mouth. He eyed me as he chewed. “I suppose an encounter with the serakan would rid most people’s appetites.” A gruff laugh. “I must say, I did not expect it to be quite so violent and determined.”
“You said you did not expect it to be here at all. You told me that it hadn’t been seen in centuries.”
“I did not lie to you, Princess.” His lips curved. “You see”—he plucked another grape from the basket—“no one has visited this valley for centuries. No one lives out here. It’s too far from anywhere important, and therefore, mostly forgotten.”
I couldn’t stop the storm within me from entering my voice. From gritting my words. “You risked my life.”
A silver brow arched.
It took strength not to move, not to retreat, as Raxon came to stand before me. “Your life is now mine to risk.” He tipped my chin. “You’d be wise to remember that.” His fingernail dug into my skin. Emerald eyes scoured my face. “Did you enjoy him?”
He hadn’t heard us then. Not enough.
“Did I enjoy being forced to consummate our marriage with your nephew?” I scowled. “I cannot say I did, my liege.”
“Many would kill for the opportunity to lie with the alpha, but I cannot punish you for failing to recognize the honor when this kingdom is still rather foreign to you.” He released me and stepped back to dance his gaze down my body. “How many times?”
Confused, I just stared at him.
He rolled his eyes. “How many times did Voran spurt his magical seed into your cunt, Ayla?”
Eleven times, I didn’t say. Instead, I let the heat climbing my neck invade my cheeks and murmured, “I don’t know. I lost count.”
His grin was as sharp as a freshly forged blade. “Excellent.”
Without another word, he headed to the main door and tapped the steel once. It opened to reveal a slew of warriors lining the chasm.
Though I couldn’t see him, I knew Voran was among them.
The knowledge struck me like a blow. Now that we’d bonded, I could better scent him.
But I kept my eyes from finding the prince as I stepped into the chasm, and wolves converged upon the cave and surrounded their king. I trailed Raxon to the barren trees along the river. Large clumps of destroyed ice sent a shiver that had nothing to do with the winter chill rolling down my spine.
Fresh ice had formed overnight, sealing the gaps and cracks made by the serakan.
I can still taste your blood, almost queen.
I nearly tripped. Nearly stopped to ask if anyone else had heard the beast trapped within the river. But I knew no one had. Knew no one would unless the serakan wished for them to.
Voran’s scent beckoned. His presence nearing my back was a comfort and a torment.
There was no chatter. Just the crunch of boots on snow as I walked barefoot within the protective formation of wolves toward the tents and sleighs downstream. So as we reached the waiting citizens, their gasps and whispers might as well have been a shriek from a fyrefowl.
The king stiffened, but his steps didn’t falter.
I couldn’t hear what anyone said. Only the low hiss of whispers. Which meant Raxon couldn’t hear either.
The king’s tent had been pulled down. Elynia and Oula stood beside his black sleigh, the latter bowing when she caught sight of Raxon.
Princess Elynia rolled her eyes at her guard.
The king stopped a short distance from his sleigh. Everyone stopped. Behind me, the wolves spread across the clearing into long rows of three, Voran in the middle.
That wasn’t what alarmed me.
Furs from the cave’s bed hung from his hand.
Voran didn’t meet my eyes as he marched through the lines on his right. He walked past each warrior, each golden-eyed wolf, with those furs extended.
For them to scent.
Except he didn’t need to. Wolves were likely still in the Ceremonial Cave, scenting and seeing the evidence of our coupling.
As numerous golden gazes fell upon me, I stepped back, closer to the king. Many brows furrowed. Many bearded mouths curved or opened. Some wolves glared at Voran with what appeared to be confusion and incredulity.
But no one said a word as the prince made his way down each row of warriors. No one said anything about Voran’s scent. No one claimed I hadn’t completed the bride trial with the king.
Before Voran reached the last row, the king clapped his hands. “We can have the scenting verdict later. A wedding awaits.” My spine straightened when he placed his hand on my lower back. “Get in your sleigh, Princess.”
My feet remembered that they were freezing, and I gladly hurried over the snow-covered grass to my sleigh.
I gave a brief smile to the driver before climbing inside the enclosed cabin. My clothing lay in a pile on the seat. Too cold to remove the pelt, I pulled on my pants and socks beneath it, and rubbed my tunic over my cold-bitten cheeks.
Bonded. I was now bound to Voran.
How I hadn’t known that he was my fated, and I was his, had my mind turning every which way. I should have at least suspected it. Though I wasn’t sure how I could have when he was the first male I’d had any sexual experience with.
Before Voran, there had been Meront. But we’d kissed just once, and it had seemed as if my interest in him had simply waned beneath interest in Voran.
A far greater interest, certainly, but it had felt natural all the same.
Normal. If all-consuming, foreboding in its intensity, and perilously addictive could be considered normal.
The sleigh lurched forward.
I dropped my head to the window. But if Voran was somewhere among the wolves that had broken formation, I couldn’t see him. The warriors now gathered in groups, eyeing the line of sleighs leaving the clearing.
Eyeing the king’s, I realized, as horses shouted and Raxon’s sleigh darted past mine.