Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Ceremony
Winter limped into the throne room alongside the queen. Sleek obsidian walls held golden sconces and the ceiling was mirrored, reflecting the few courtiers attending this semi-private ceremony. The space held no tables or chairs, aside from the two thrones occupying the dais.
Winter swiped another champagne flute from a nearby tray and hurried to keep up with the queen’s brisk pace. Otherwise, she would be dragged by her elbow.
Winter felt like a pet, but a collar wasn’t necessary when she was terrified of her owner. This new plan involved a meticulous level of trust. So here she was behaving, and trying her best to keep her owner in a good mood.
A vampire named Carlisle took her hand. He helped her up the dais, then shoved her in a throne.
Her ass had never seen this many royal seats in its lifetime.
First West’s, and now the queen’s. These ones were both upholstered in black leather and adorned with gold-plated buttons.
They were overly cushioned, and the moment Winter landed, she wondered if it was filled with air. There was remarkable bounce.
“Winter,” cooed the queen, “would you like Carlisle to provide an oral service?”
Winter choked so hard she had to wipe the alcohol from her chin. “Oh. No, thank you.”
Carlisle knelt by the queen, licking his fangs. “For how long, my queen?”
“Not long, my love. I just need to unwind.” Her fingers flexed on the armrests as she leaned back. “Winter’s driving me crazy.”
As her guard went to work, Winter tipped her head back and pretended to be elsewhere. This was a challenge considering the ceiling was mirrored—the queen was writhing like a snake. Her passion was unabashed and on display, making Winter rub her thighs together despite herself.
The intense moaning drew every eye in the room. Those who hadn’t busied themselves with peeping were fondling each other over their finery.
Winter set her empty glass down, readjusted her seat, and crossed her legs. She needed to get a grip.
“Fingers too, Carlisle!”
The queen groaned deeply. This was followed by a minute of wailing for more, more, more, until finally, her black-painted eyelids fluttered closed, her head lolled back, and a strangled scream erupted from her lungs.
The crowd cheered, praising her quick climax like it was a gift.
Carlisle slipped out from beneath her skirt, sweating. He wiped his shiny mouth and half-smiled at Winter. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, thank you.” She pressed her lips into a thin line.
He took his leave, but not before eyeing her from head to toe. “Next time then.”
The queen took a satiated breath and sat up tall. “There, I feel much better. Winter, tell me. Do you truly love Westley, or are his feelings unrequited? I can’t quite tell. You should read the letter he wrote me in your honor—unrefined is an understatement.”
What. The. Fuck? “He wrote to you?” He’d ignored her letter.
“Mm, yes. A gentle threat. That’s why I’ve chained him.” She rolled her wrist and two guards disappeared in a burgundy poof. Before Winter could curse, a cage appeared. Westley wasn’t merely locked inside it—he was suspended by hooks.
Panic rumbled through her bones, smacking her in the heart. His dangling form looked limp and lifeless. He was wrapped in chains and so much metal that only his head, neck, and legs poked through. Any tufts of hair she could see were blood-soaked.
Winter wanted to bolt, but if she did that, then who would help him? The others? She kept her tone cool. “I like him restrained, personally.”
“Oh?”
“He can be quite naughty, no?”
The queen lifted her chin. “Indeed.”
There had to be a reason for this. “So, why is he here tonight? To annoy us? I wanted to spend time with you.”
The queen laughed, small and smug. “Oh. You can be a better liar than that, Winter. Do try again.”
Winter tried to keep her expression sincere. “I believe I’ve made myself clear. I am here to serve you.” Dipping her head, she added, “My queen.”
“Not terrible—we’ll work on it.” The queen glanced around the room. “Everyone comes around eventually.”
West took a deep breath, lifting his snout. A guard shouted at him. He popped his eyes open like they hadn’t seen the light of day in weeks. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he immediately found hers.
Fuck.
There was no time to explain why she was sitting on the dais. He needed to trust her. Because if those chains didn’t break him, what he was about to witness might. But there had to be something she could do to help ease his suffering.
“You know,” Winter purred, “I can make him behave without the chains.”
The queen’s eyebrow rose. “This wolf isn’t trainable, not without force. I know him better than you.”
Winter glowered, inspecting the audacious queen. Perhaps the alcohol had finally landed because she said, “You know nothing about him.”
The queen leaned over and grabbed Winter by her chin, squeezing forcefully. “Listen to me, you wicked wolf, speak like that again and my nail goes through that pretty hazel eye of yours. Don’t tempt me—I have just the jar to keep it in.”
Winter was willing to live without an eye. “But if you hurt him, I can’t help you. It would be like …”
The queen narrowed her gaze. “Yes?”
“What happened to Lexington.”
She gasped sharply. “Do not play games with me, Winter. The two of you owe me this night.” Tears formed in her eyes, but she blinked and all that remained was an icy mask. “Guards! Rattle his cage.”
Five vampires materialized around West’s metal bars, grabbed them, and shook vigorously. West didn’t whine or whimper, he closed his eyes and swayed with the motion.
“Please stop,” whimpered Winter.
The queen’s stormy eyes glittered. “And what will you do for me in return?”
“I’ll bite you now, later, tomorrow, the next day. Forever. Please, just stop hurting him.”
“How lovely. See, you all come around eventually. Guards! That’s enough. It appears the time for our main event has come.”
West didn’t look over again, he was too busy vomiting.
“Please, you have to release him. I can make him do anything you want. I swear it.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Prove it.”
“Release him first.”
The queen twirled her wrist. A small serpent launched from her fingertip, coiling around Winter’s neck like jewelry. “And if you’re wrong, I'll kill you. Do I make myself clear?”
Winter looked at her blood-filled shoes, then back to the queen. “As glass.”
She addressed her guard. “Remove him from the hooks and chains, then unlock the cage.”
It happened quickly. West shook, stretched, then galloped towards the dais. He wasn’t looking at Winter, he zeroed in on the queen, his wrathful growl ripping through the throne room.
Shit.
Winter dropped her voice two octaves and shouted, “Stop!”
Her mate halted in his tracks, his saliva dripping to the polished floor. He huffed before sitting.
The queen’s eyes were wide open. “I didn’t know the alpha voice worked on other alphas. This is brilliant.” After a speculative pause, she asked, “Can you make him bark?”
“Speak,” Winter ordered, her tone as adamant as her eyes.
The sound that left him was cracked and broken. But it was loud enough to make the queen start clapping. “This is fantastical. I’d like him to stay right there all night.”
Winter gripped the armrests. Fine, maybe he would be safer this way. She focused on West and said, “Stay.” Then she turned to the queen and spoke normally. “When can he shift back?”
“After he watches you bite me. He needs to learn who his real queen is, and you’ll help remind him.” She rubbed her lap. “It’s time for you to sit.”
Her plan was never going to work, was it? All she could think about was West—running away with him. This palace was slowly killing her, just like Emrys had said it would all those months ago. The queen held too much leverage. Winter didn’t want to play dead, she wanted to be with her mate.
“Now, Winter.”
She needed to fix this, and there was only one way to do it. With the truth. Or, at least, part of it.
“I am—I’m just a little …”
“Why are you mumbling?”
“I’m nervous. I-I think this would be easier …” She looked around the room. “Without all the others here.”
The queen glanced at her courtiers then back. “What’s the problem?”
“Please,” Winter begged, stroking her slithering necklace. “I’ll bite you, but I prefer privacy.” How could she slay her with an audience?
The queen tightened her grip on the collar. “I can never tell when you’re lying.”
“I’m not. I swear.”
The queen squinted at her then addressed the small crowd. “Court, that’ll be all for this evening. Guards, wait outside. And Westley, you’re not going anywhere because you can’t, can you?”
Winter wasn’t with Everett. Westley had let a single thread of hope spin back on the spool, assuming she’d been safe this entire time.
The queen wanted him, not Winter—or so he’d thought.
His mate had that nonchalant look on her face, but he knew what brewed behind her mask. He could smell the fear.
Winter’s alpha voice was strong, keeping him exactly where he was.
Why would she order him to stay? She could help him shred the queen into pieces.
Allegra’s message filtered back to his mind.
Trust Winter. But in what context? Trust her to compel him to sit while she performed a claiming?
If Westley had known refusing to bite the queen would mean Winter taking his place, he’d have tossed his pride a long time ago.
Westley barked, vying for Winter’s attention.
The queen’s wild eyes met his.
He barked again and again, until his hollering bounced off the stone walls and the queen was covering her ears. “Can’t you quiet him?”
“But isn’t it a lovely sound?” Winter asked.
“No!” the queen screeched. “It’s miserable. Make him stop.”
Her voice was no better than a noisy bird. Winter’s eyes met his, immediately making him weak. He stopped barking before she finished telling him to be quiet.
“Thank you,” sighed the queen. “Westley, this is your punishment for threatening my crown—if that isn’t clear. You will respect me.” She turned back to Winter. “Ready?”
He’d never spoken to Winter about claiming. He’d been holding back, trying to give her space. This wasn’t fair.
“If he so much as takes a single step …” The queen’s gaze jumped between them. “I’ll kill you both.”
Winter nodded slowly while her serpent collar hissed. “He won’t.”
“Good. After all, you owe me for saving his life, taking it away would be a waste of—” Her fingers danced. “How many was it?”
What was the queen talking about?
Winter’s knuckles blanched as her nails dug into the upholstery.
The queen took note, but Winter appeared to play it off, moving to stand.
She got up from the throne and swept hands down her lap to smooth out the familiar red dress.
The queen was obsessed with that gown. Winter looked like she’d stepped out of a sea of blood, still dripping wet.
There was no need for imagination when the fabric clung to her curves like liquid.
Winter’s beauty would not only be his undoing, but the entire world’s.
The way the queen ogled her made his heart want to burst. Winter needed to free him now.
He’d rip the queen to shreds and eat the pieces before her shadows had the chance to choke him to death.
At least, he would try to. But Winter wore a necklace—one that slithered in circles and hissed.
The queen, it seemed, was holding a special kind of dagger to her throat.