Wolfkissed

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

ROSAMUND

“Look at you,” Matilde sneers, releasing my arm to glare at me. “Look at all the trash you have pinned on your head.” She pitches her voice high to carry over the noise in the hall. “Is any of it real? And that silly gown, where did you dig it up? You thought you could dress up to outshine me?”

I school my expression. “Of course not.”

“Good, because you can’t.” Flaunting the gem-crusted pink gown she’s wearing, she steps closer until she’s glaring down her nose at me. “You’re a slut, aren’t you? What betrothed woman would try to attract men when she’s already spoken for?”

Losing the battle, I roll my eyes. “I’m not trying to attract—”

“And the pearls? Where did you get them?”

“They were my mother’s,” I grind out.

“Liar.” She grabs the necklace and tears it from my neck. She’s surprisingly strong for a girl her age. The clasp breaks, and I stumble backward, shocked. “You stole them from us.”

Recovering from the shock, I reach for the necklace. “Give it back. It’s mine.”

“Go away.” She shoves at me, lifting the necklace, a calculating look in her eyes. “These pearls could bring in good coin. I—”

“It’s mine, I said, give it back!” I grab her sleeve, and she hisses, slapping my hand away. “Matilde—”

“Rosie.” Niele, Stepfather’s wife, steps between us, scowling at me. “Are you bullying your little sister again?”

“I’m not. That necklace is mine. She took it from me.”

“Stop lying and go sit. The hunting party will be entering any moment now. We don’t want to give a bad impression.”

My eyes burn, but I refuse to let any tears slip. Being rebuked as if I’m a child, getting accused of wrongdoing, dismissed as if my opinions and feelings don’t matter… It’s all too commonplace these days. I should have known this would happen. It’s been happening more and more often.

Mostly, I grieve the loss of the necklace. I have very few things left from my mother, and this pearl set was one of them.

But it doesn’t matter. They are just things, and I am made of fire, even if some days I feel like I’m made of mud and stones. I’m fire, and I don’t need pearls to remember my mother.

I’ll be fine.

I realize Matilde is jealous because I have found myself a rich husband.

Although it could also be because the servants like me more.

Because I like to spend my time in the gardens with the gardeners, learning about plants and planting, or with the cooks, learning about cooking.

Because I’m good at stitching and knitting. Because I like books.

Who knows, really? Anything could be the reason.

I watch Niele escort her daughter back to their seats beside Stepfather’s, and I feel…

untethered. This isn’t my home anymore. I have no home, but maybe…

maybe Lord Eorl will turn out to be a good man.

A good person. Maybe his home will become mine.

Hope is a scarce commodity when you’re afraid of your own shadow, but I have to believe it, or I won’t be able to take another step ever again.

A step through this hall, a step out of the door of the manor. The thought of traveling won’t let me sleep at night, but Stepfather promised me a bodyguard.

A bodyguard, a carriage, and servants. I’ll be fine.

This is my eternal mantra. I’ll be just fine. Everything will be fine.

“Come, Rosamund,” Stepfather says, beckoning. “Come be introduced to Lady Erielle of the House of Fireflies and her children. I have asked their house for help with a special little project of mine.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll see.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m brilliant. It’s such a fantastic idea.”

“What about?” I ask, not really caring. Stepfather’s fantastic ideas usually revolve around crazy schemes such as raising wildcats in our backyard or traveling to the capital to bet on the races.

“I asked them… What in the hells happened to your neck?”

I slap a hand there, wondering if my scar is showing. “What?”

“It’s all red and scratched.”

“Oh.” My shoulders slump in relief. “My necklace. Matilde pulled it off.”

His dark brows rise. “Did she, now? Where is it?”

“She took it.”

“Matilde!” Stepfather hollers and claps his hands, as if calling a dog to heel. “Come here and give that necklace back. It used to belong to her mother.”

I stare at him. His support is unexpected and suspicious.

“But, Liam.” Niele sports a long face as she rises from her seat at the table. “How can you say that? Matilde claims—”

“Return it to her now,” Stepfather snaps. “And play nice. We have noble guests and want to give a good impression, or did you forget? In fact, I can hear them already. Open the doors!”

Matilde is pouting. I know she’ll use the distraction to disobey her father, and truth is, by now I’m distracted, too. The doors are thrown open, and boisterous singing emanates from outside. Hunting rhymes, stomping feet, shouts, laughter and snarls, accompanied by barking.

I stare as the hunters enter. It’s a motley crew. It starts with liveried servants blowing on trumpets and carrying the banners of the Houses involved in the hunt.

Then come the aristocrats and rich landowners, dressed in their hunting finery, sturdy coats with brass buttons, riding leggings, tall boots, gloves and tall hats.

They are followed by their hunt servants and huntsmen carrying the catch. Deer, boar, wildcats, tied with ropes and hanging from poles. The tang of blood is heavy in the air. Blood, animal fur, offal and death.

Then come the dogs, followed by the kennel huntsman, kennel men and young pages. The hounds bay and bark, and I flinch without meaning to. They don’t sound exactly like wolves, but there is something about them, something that prods at the dark memories in the pit of my mind.

Stepfather is on his feet, grinning. “Ho, there, esteemed friends. I hope the expedition went splendidly and bore hearty fruit.”

“You could say that!” A middle-aged human man strides forward with a huge grin on his face, dragging a younger man along, their similarity marking them as father and son. “What a spectacular hunt. You should have joined us.”

“Lord Amos.” Stepfather hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his vest. “I was busy at the manor. But I sent my good associate Lord Sinen to plan and lead you.”

“The fae lord? Aye. He had a very specific plan in mind. I said—”

“Never you mind our plans. Come, sit!” He gestures at the long tables. “Everyone, take your seats! We have a little spectacle prepared for you.”

Lord Amos shakes his gray head, his mouth twisting, and does as he is bidden. His son casts me a furtive look I can’t decipher. That’s not covetous lust, not that I’d expect anything of the sort, but… why does he look pained?

More nobles walk past us, mostly human, though a couple of fae also stalk by, chins held high, defying the bad reputation their kind has these days.

A few start when they notice me, but that’s to be expected.

They all know my story and can recognize me from my colors and the small scar disfiguring one side of my mouth.

I should be used to curious looks and expressions full of pity by now.

Gritting my teeth, I glare and refuse to sit down and cower.

Past me, younger me, would have done so, eventually running out of the room and hiding.

But since my stepfather remarried, I’ve had to quickly grow some thick skin.

It was that or sink, and I wouldn’t let my parents’ love for me go to waste.

So here I am, scarred inside and out, not giving up. And you know what, that’s the best sort of revenge on fate.

You wanted me to lie down and die? Well, tough.

My cousins make their way over to us as the hunters keep filing in. Two girls and a boy, well, a man, they grin at me as they approach. I’ve known them since we were little, and they would visit when their parents had business meetings in the area. It’s hard to believe they are adults now.

That I am an adult, too, and survived in order to be standing here now, greeting them.

“Cousin Rosie.” Elsie takes my hands and squeezes them. “It’s been a while. You’re looking good.”

“Love the fashionable hair ornaments,” Mina says. “They suit you.”

“Cousin.” Orlen bows, always so formal. “I trust you have been well.”

“I’m fine, thank you all.” I see pieces of my mother and myself in their faces, their smiles, their postures. It warms up my frozen heart. “It’s so good to see you. What decided you to come?”

“Your stepfather insisted. He said you will be leaving soon to join your husband-to-be and that he was preparing this great party in your honor.”

“My honor?” I frown, already shaking my head. “He never said this banquet was about me. You must be mistaken.”

“Isn’t it true you are leaving soon?” Elsie asks.

I nod. “Yes… Yes, that’s true.”

“Do you know what prey Lord Sinen of the House of Fireflies is supposed to have captured? Everyone is whispering behind their hands and fans, some looking uneasy and others thrilled.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” I say hesitantly. “A rare animal, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” she concedes.

Gods, I have a bad feeling about this.

Then again, it’s hard to trust it because the bad feeling has plagued me for years, and sadly, it’s never wrong. Bad things keep happening.

Tonight, though, my stomach is tied into a knot, heavier than usual, making me queasy.

More servants enter, more trumpets blaring fanfare, the dogs barking a storm, winding around the tables. My skin feels too tight, my chest too small.

“My lords. My ladies.” A tall, broad-shouldered fae lord strides into the manor and makes straight for us.

“Lord Sinen,” Stepfather says, looking pleased. He spreads his arms. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Lord Liam.” The fae inclines his head, pale hair tumbling over his shoulders, his pointed ears decorated with gold. “Well met.”

“You made a promise to me with this hunt—”

“And we have kept that promise. As you can see.” The fae lord waves a hand behind him. “We did as we were bidden, thereby repaying our debt to you, as you’ll have to acknowledge.”

“Debt? What debt?” I whisper.

“I will acknowledge the debt erased when I see him,” Stepfather nods. “Where is he?”

“Bring him in!” the fae lord hollers. “Hurry this up. We have wine to drink and a feast to enjoy.”

My cousins flank me as yet more servants enter the manor, carrying between them a cage on poles, and inside…

“Now we’re quits,” Lord Sinen says, his grin wide and sharp. He throws his hands in the air. “Play some music. Let’s celebrate a successful hunt.”

“What…?” My cousin Elsie sounds strangely distant. “What is that in the cage? It looks like a man.”

“Can’t be a man,” Cousin Orlen says. “Why would they capture a man when—?”

“Oh, Gods, that’s not a man,” Mina whispers. “It’s a monster.”

“Dark fae,” Elsie breathes. “It’s a dark fae.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head even as I observe the cage being carried deeper into the hall. No, they wouldn’t do this to me. Why would they? It makes no sense.

“It’s probably just a wildman,” Orlen dismisses the man in the cage. “A human.”

“He has wolf ears,” Mina says. “And a tail.”

My blood freezes in my veins. Wolf? Impossible. My heart booming, I take an involuntary step back. No. No, they wouldn’t.

But the servants proceed between the long tables, oblivious to my fright, carrying the cage, and the man inside grabs the bars and snarls.

My cousins were right, he’s not human. A male fae, that much is clear. As the cage approaches us, the servants moving toward the center of the hall, I hear whispers around me, the guests talking behind their hands, their eyes wide.

“They caught a dark fae.”

“It’s a wolfman.”

“They brought a wolfman into the manor. After what that accursed race did to Miss Rosamund—”

I can’t speak. My throat has closed. My knees buckle, and my vision goes hazy.

“Rosie.” Orlen grabs my arm, keeping me upright. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll bring you some water,” Mina says. “I’ll—”

Stepfather claps his hands. “Silence! We have a joyous announcement to make.”

Why isn’t he saying anything? Yelling at Lord Sinen that there has been a mistake, that of course he didn’t mean to bring a werewolf in here. Yelling at him to take that horrible creature out of here! Throw it out, kill it, bury it, or send its body back to the wilderness whence it came.

But Stepfather doesn’t look concerned or surprised. Did he know about this?

“Grab your goblets,” Stepfather goes on, “and raise them. My stepdaughter, as you might know, is leaving us soon to get married to a rich and powerful human lord. The journey is long for a lady, fraught with danger, so we agreed…” He glances at his wife.

“We agreed it would be best to give her a bodyguard.”

No.

“And since the road passes close to dark fae territory,” he goes on, “indeed, werewolf territory, what better bodyguard than a fae werewolf?”

No, he didn’t. He can’t have. I’ve misheard. Misunderstood. It’s not possible.

I want to ask him how he let them do it, bring this creature into our home, knowing. Knowing what it would do to me. Knowing what his species already did to me. I want to speak, but my teeth are grinding, my jaw clenched too tight.

He brought my worst enemy, my worst nightmare, into my house, and now he’s going to force me to travel with him.

To be in close quarters with the creature who killed my mother, kidnapped me, and almost ended my life as a child.

If I’m dreaming, it’s time to wake up.