Chapter 12
TAUREN
I’ve gone mad. That’s the only explanation for why I’m stood at the end of my bed, watching Dahlia sleep, with a small, blanket-covered creature wriggling in my arms.
Last night, I was too harsh on her.
Originally, I’d intended to tie her up in the horse stall and leave her for a while. The threat about the stablehands was a lie. I’d never let anyone else touch her in that helpless position. Until Elheart decides to play nicely, Dahlia belongs to me, and I never liked to share my toys.
But it was when I noticed the shy flush on her cheeks and the way her nipples had pebbled that I decided I couldn’t just leave her there.
After all, she did kick me. She had to be punished.
But I wasn’t expecting her to be naked beneath her gown.
Nor was I expecting her to come as hard as she did after I finished using the whip.
The noises she’d made…
And the way her soft thighs had quivered…
Fuck.
It was all I could dream about. That, and how broken she looked before we left the stable. I realised then that I had pushed her too far, and the guilt has been eating me up inside since.
After a few hours of tossing and turning, I left her asleep in my bed, pulled on a casual white shirt, dark breeches, and a pair of leather boots, and slipped out of my chambers.
I want to give her something – a peace offering. Things do not need to be so difficult between us. It’s not her fault that she’s trapped here as my prisoner. Really, she’s just as innocent as poor Maeve, and she’d want me to make her time here comfortable.
Maeve would do anything to help Dahlia feel more at home.
But it’s only when I arrive back inside my bedchamber and the bundle in my arms lets out a small bark, that I wonder if my sanity left along with the wedding invitation yesterday.
“Hush, Laelaps,” I whisper to the bundle.
Dahlia stirs beneath my bedsheets, humming softly.
Awkwardly, I clear my throat.
She bolts upright with a gasp. A nightgown covers her narrow frame – the same lacy thing I had the servants dress her in on the night she arrived.
She didn’t need servants last moonfall, though. Once we reached my tower, she woke up, undressed herself, and slipped into my bed without saying a word.
Although, she did mutter something under her breath as I slipped in beside her. Something about keeping my hands to myself or she’d gouge my eyes out while I slept.
“Sweet dreams to you too,” I’d chuckled before sleep claimed us both.
Dahlia blinks at me through sleep-filled eyes. When she notices the wriggling bundle in my arms, her brows draw together. “What is that?”
“A gift.” I move towards her. “I thought she might make your stay here a little more comfortable.”
“She?” Dahlia scoffs.
I place the bundle in front of her. The blanket falls away to reveal a small auburn-coloured puppy. It yips and stumbles against the bedsheets as Dahlia gasps, “Is that a puppy?”
I nod, unable to hide my smirk. “Someone in the castle was giving them away, and I thought you might like one.” That’s a lie. At the first light of the moon, I sent a squad of soldiers to the night market under orders to purchase and deliver me the sweetest-looking animal they could find.
I don’t know for sure if Dahlia likes animals, let alone a hunting hound, but considering how happy she looked with my horse, I thought she might prefer an animal friend to a bouquet of flowers.
Not that many flowers grow in the withered soil surrounding my castle.
“I didn’t realise demons kept dogs as pets.” She pulls the puppy into her lap. “Thought you’d want wolves or bats, or something scary… Wait a minute.” Scooping up the dog, she stares into its dark eyes. “Is this a demon dog?”
The puppy yaps and licks her face.
“It’s a dog…” I say, unsure how else to reply. “The same sort of dog you’d find in your palace, I suppose.”
“Really?” She smushes her face into the puppy’s, grinning. “She’s so funny-looking, though. Like a sausage.” The dog’s long body sags, as if offended. “The loveliest, sweetest sausage,” Dahlia corrects, and the dog perks up.
I narrow my eyes. If Dahlia wasn’t so obviously human, I’d wonder what magic she used to make the dog understand her. That, or maybe the dog really is a ‘demon dog’ after all.
Sighing, I shake my head. “I was thinking Laelaps for her name. It’s a strong name, and she—”
“That’s the most ridiculous name I’ve ever heard,” Dahlia spits. “Laelaps?” she sneers. “Tell me that at least means something and you didn’t just make that up.”
My brows shoot up. “Well, I just thought—”
“I’m naming her Pumpkin,” she cuts me off, smiling at the dog. “Because she’s orange and a lovely dog like her needs a lovely name, like Pumpkin.”
Pumpkin barks and licks Dahlia’s face again.
“Of course,” I sigh. Servants file in with their arms full of gowns, and I leave the bedchamber to let her dress.
Half an hour later, Pumpkin sprints out of my bedchamber with Dahlia close at her heels. “Get back here, you cheeky thing,” she laughs. Nestled in my large armchair, I peer up from my book to watch her.
A swallow lodges in my throat.
Long, black chiffon flows down her legs from a tight matching bodice, while little sleeves swoop below her shoulders. Her normally straight hair is partially braided, the rest sweeping loose around her back, while her head is decorated with a dainty gold circlet.
With her regal clothes and a dusting of crimson on her lips, she looks so…
“Beautiful,” I murmur.
Dahlia stops chasing Pumpkin. Her smile falls as she turns my way. “Did you say something?”
Clearing my throat, I stand up. “I’ve arranged for a carriage to collect us at midmoon. We’ll be visiting the night market tonight. You need a gown for our wedding, and you’ll be able to choose something you like there.”
“Oh…” Pumpkin gnaws on her skirt, but she ignores her. “And how far is this night market?” Something sparks in her gaze. “I suppose if it’s outside the castle, you’ll have to—”
“I will not be removing your collar,” I reply before she can ask. “The enchantment will follow me from the castle, and I’ll be tightening it so you cannot leave my side.”
“Wonderful.” She scowls, all hope dying in her eyes. “Can’t you just pick a gown for me? I really don’t care what I wear to your ridiculous wedding.”
“Our wedding,” I correct her. “The designer needs to meet you today so he has time to alter the gown you choose to your measurements. Unless you’d rather wear nothing at all.” My voice deepens. “I’m sure my court would not complain.”
Her face flushes my new favourite colour. “Fine. If you insist on it, I’ll go. But I want Claren to come with us.”
“Claren?” I choke. “What possible reason could you have for wanting that whiny—”
“He’s not whiny.” She frowns. “And I actually quite enjoyed his company. We had fun riding together.”
“It looked like he could barely keep up with you.”
“I don’t care. I just want him to come with us.”
My eyes narrow at the fear in her tone. “Are you afraid of being alone with me?”
“Do you even need to ask after what you put me through in the stable?” She won’t meet my gaze. “Claren was nice to me, and right now I trust him a lot more than I trust you. If you insist on me travelling to this night market with you, then I want him there with us. Those are my terms.”
Frustration lodges in my throat. My little brother could come, I suppose. But it’s been a while since I’ve spent any meaningful time with him. It’s much easier to fill his nights with schooling so I don’t have to look into those eyes that remind me so much of my sister.
I scrub my hand over my jaw, thinking, when Dahlia’s gaze turns cloudy and she stumbles.
I dive forward to catch her waist. “What’s wrong?” I demand, my heart pounding. “Are you sick?”
Shrugging out of my hold, she shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. I just tripped.”
“Didn’t look like it.” Stepping back, I study her small body. She doesn’t look unwell, but there’s an unusual weakness in her stance. When her stomach growls furiously, the realisation hits me. “When did you last eat?” I growl.
“Last night. Maybe. I’m not sure,” she brushes me off. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to this silly market. I’ll pick a dress.” She wobbles on her feet again, and this time I grab her waist and don’t let her go.
“You didn’t eat yesterday, did you?” I sigh. If she left my chambers immediately after waking, she wouldn’t have had any of the food I’d had delivered. But she found Claren, didn’t she? “Did Claren not show you the banquet hall?” I’ll murder him.
“No, no, he offered to bring me food!” She presses a hand against my chest to steady herself. “I just didn’t want it. I told you, I’m not eating any more poisoned demon food. No matter how delicious it is.” She mutters that last part under her breath, but I still hear her.
“You foolish girl.” Before she can protest, I gather her up into my arms and bring her to the chaise longue, Pumpkin bouncing around my heels.
Placing her onto the seat, I signal for the servants.
“You. Will. Eat.” I kneel by her side. “I won’t give you a choice, Dahlia.
If you do not eat for yourself, then I will force you.
” My words are strong, but there’s a softness in my tone I can’t quite get rid off.
She looks so helpless lying back against my chaise.
“I’m not touching your poison,” she spits.
“For the last time it was a sedative.” I take her hand to stop it shaking.
“Why would I have that whole conversation about taking you gown shopping if my plan was to have you sleep through it all?” An angry tear rolls down her cheek, but I swipe it away, holding her gaze.
“The food is safe, sweetheart. I promise you.”
“I don’t trust you.” She tries to push me away, but she’s too weak. “I’m your prisoner and you’ve already drugged me once. How am I supposed to trust you?” Pumpkin jumps into her lap, curling onto her stomach.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “It was only to help you adjust to our sleeping schedule, but I promise it will never happen again.” A servant hurries in with a plate of steaming porridge and fruit, placing it onto the low table beside us.
Reaching for the spoon, I scoop up some of the creamy oats. But instead of bringing it to her lips, I bring it to my own. “Look.” I swallow the mouthful so she can see it’s safe. “There’s no need to be afraid. I just need you to eat something. Can you do that for me? Please.”
Suspicion pulls at her brow, but eventually she takes the spoon from my outstretched hand. “If I eat something, will you let Claren come with us to the night market?”
“Of course.” I don’t care anymore. I won’t let her starve herself.
When she swallows her first mouthful, I almost sigh with relief. After a few spoonfuls, she pauses. “And…”
“Yes?” I urge her.
“I want something with chocolate in it. I told you before that no meal is complete without dessert. You’ve only brought me porridge and fruit.”
I want to roll my eyes, but the colour is already returning to her cheeks, so I don’t waste a second to call for the servants.