Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROSAMUND
Having a plan of sorts gets me out of my immediate, gut-wrenching panic. They want me gone? Fine, I’ll go, but I’ll make sure I survive this journey.
Bathed and fed, I feel human again, as opposed to a small animal burrowing inside a hole, fighting for its life.
Clad in my dark burgundy dress, the collar buttoned up, it almost feels as if I’m wearing armor.
Standing at my window, I look down into the yard of the manor, at the stable hands leading horses to the pasture, the servants hurrying back and forth between the coldhouse, the well, the storerooms, and the main building.
I can make out the mountains beyond, a jagged blue outline against the sky, and the dragons cavorting high in the air.
Today I feel I can do this. The shock has worn off, leaving behind a veneer of calm. Let’s hope it’s enough to get me through the day.
“My lady?” Della hovers behind me. “What are your orders?”
I frown. “Are there any activities planned with the guests today?”
“Games in the garden, my lady. Lunch and dinner. Music intervals.”
Of course. Par for the course. No idea why I’d expected anything different, anything to change. Perhaps because my life is changing in unforeseen ways, and I imagine that the world will change with me, mirroring me.
But the world always goes on, unperturbed, while the fates of humans and fae intertwine and twist, while we suffer and rejoice and move through time like fireflies through the dusk, brief flashes of brilliance in a vast darkness.
“Your cousins have been asking after you,” she adds. “They were concerned.”
“I will join the festivities, then.” Reluctantly, I turn away from the window. “Are Kier and any other manservant coming to escort me?”
“I will send for them, my lady.”
Good. Because I suppose it’s time I faced my own personal monster.
Kier arrives, and I’m glad to see that he’s been joined by Bert, another familiar, burly manservant. I like these two men. They are serious, committed, and seem to be fond of me.
Which is why I’m afraid I can’t take them with me on this journey. I wouldn’t want to place them in any danger.
Though right now, I am placing them in danger, I realize, and yet I’m reluctant to send them away.
“Of course we will escort you, my lady, and make sure that fucking beast doesn’t come anywhere near you,” Kier says, thumping a fist against his broad chest. “Beg your pardon for the language. You will be safe. Have no concern.”
“We will find good chains to wrap him up with for the journey,” Bert says. “I’ll tie him up like a sausage. He won’t be able to move a finger.”
I smile and nod. Let’s hope it will be enough. “Thick ropes and chains,” I say. “Add more thick ropes and chains.”
“Has he tried to attack you?” Kier asks, his thick brows knit. “Shall I go out and bust his face open?”
“He…” I cast my mind back to my first meeting with the werewolf and come up sort of blank. Panic has hazed over the memories. I remember him snarling, jerking toward me… “I think he tried.”
“I’ll show that bastard what’s what.” Kier starts for the door, and for some unfathomable reason, I grab his forearm to stop him.
“Wait.”
He frowns. “My lady?”
“I’m not sure,” I whisper. “Not sure he tried.”
He glares, as if to say, what does that even mean? “If he thought to harm you, that’s cause enough.”
I swallow hard. “I said, wait, Kier.”
“If I kill him now,” he says, very reasonably, “then you’ll have no cause to worry about him anymore.”
Good point. A point I made myself several times already since the wolf’s arrival. But something holds me back.
“What is it?” Della asks.
“Too easy,” I whisper. “If Stepfather wants me gone, if he went into all this trouble to get a werewolf to drive me mad with fear… I’m not sure what he’ll do if the werewolf is killed before we set out.”
Kier’s eyes glaze over as he tries to follow my argument.
Bert scratches the stubble on his chin and scowls.
Della sighs. “That’s a worrisome thought.”
“You’re going to tell me I’m paranoid,” I whisper.
“No. No, my lady. I’m not so sure about that. Bringing the werewolf here was a sign that things are not as they seem in his household. Now, I had a thought… what if you made a deal with the wolf?”
“Della—”
She lifts her hands to appease me. “I know he’s a beast, but he’s not a mindless one. Promise him something to at least keep him civilized while he’s here. Give yourself time to prepare.”
“You want me to make a deal with the beast?” I ask bitterly. “What could I possibly offer him?”
“His freedom? Less pain? A meal?”
“My main concern is to stop him from massacring everyone in here.”
She sighs. “I beg your forgiveness, my lady. I know your past. I mean, who here doesn’t? But he isn’t the one who attacked you back then.”
“How would you know?” I breathe. I’m still convinced he wasn’t, but what if I’m wrong?
Della bows her head. “I’ve overstepped. My apologies.”
I wave a hand to let her know it’s fine, my mind churning. “Explain your idea, please?”
“Just… promise the wolf his freedom when we approach his territory? A werewolf in human and fae areas is a target, especially an alpha like him. He could probably kill his way back, but…”
“But, what? Why would he take the deal?”
“Because every living creature’s drive is survival, and you know that best. If he has a working brain, he’ll take the deal. It’s the only rational thing for him to do.”
I let out a slow breath because she’s right, yet it’s so hard to see reason right now. “Will you see to my things? Bring up the trunks, start packing up my belongings?”
“I shall start immediately. My lady… Will you send for me when you reach your new home?”
A smile tugs on my lips, even if a vise tightens around my heart. “I promise. Now follow me. I need to take a good look at my new bodyguard.”
He’s sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. His face turns when I step out of the door, lashes lifting.
Like that, he doesn’t look as intimidating as when he’s standing, but my stomach churns as I step closer.
“So you are the werewolf,” I whisper, and for some reason I wish I could see his mouth, hidden by the black leather muzzle. Eyes tell you a lot about a person, but the mouth complements what you read in a gaze.
And those eyes… He has the most extraordinary eyes. Golden with a black rim, slightly uptilted. Mesmerizing. Between the black muzzle and the fall of white and silver-gray hair, they seem to glow.
No, I tell myself. Don’t let yourself be hypnotized by pretty eyes. I force myself to take him all in, the strong physique, the ears that aren’t quite fae ears, less pointed, more… wolf-like. And the bushy, gray tail curled behind him.
Yeah, let’s not forget the tail. If nothing else, it’s a stark reminder that this isn’t a human or a high fae in front of me.
He’s a dark fae. A mongrel. Half-animal. Half-fiend.
“I am Rosamund,” I say, startled to hear my voice come out steady and strong. “You are supposed to be my bodyguard, but we both know this is a charade. My friend…” I don’t look at Della. “She suggested I try to reason with you. Can you be reasoned with? Nod if you understand me.”
Silence stretches. He watches me, unblinking, his breathing sounding harsh in the quiet. One of his ears twitches, and I find myself staring at it.
Crap.
Just when I think that he doesn’t understand me or doesn’t care, he gives a slow nod, his hair sliding over his gaze, hiding it.
“Good. I…” I think of what Della said. “I’ll offer you a deal.
I know your wish is to kill me, kill us all, but you’re far from home.
Dark fae aren’t welcome here, and with good reason.
You’re a force of nature, dangerous for sure, but if you think about it, coming with us on this journey is your best bet to get back home.
I sure as hell don’t want you along and much less later on, when I reach my future husband’s home. ”
He gives a slow blink. “Husband?” he rasps, the sound muted behind the muzzle.
He can speak. I hate how startled I am by the sound of his voice, this sign of intelligence. Of course he can speak. My werewolf captors spoke too. Mocked me. Insulted me. Berated me.
Focus, I tell myself.
“So here is the deal,” I say out loud. “You play your role. Follow me around. Play at being my bodyguard. To clarify, I’m not untying your wrists or taking off the muzzle and gloves. Unless it is to eat and drink. Then the muzzle will come off temporarily. Nod if you agree.”
He produces a strangled sound. Surely he’s not laughing? But maybe he is.
After all, this is a ridiculous proposal.
Laughable, even.
Who has ever sat down with a wolf to talk and reach an arrangement? “Don’t eat me, wolf, and I promise to take off your chain?” He’s not one of the baying hounds running with the hunters, or the pampered poodles lazing about in ladies’ laps.
But… maybe Della was right, because no, he’s not a dog, he’s a man, a fae, cunning and devious like all of his kind, because he nods again.
“You agree?” I blurt out, unable to keep the incredulity from my voice.
“I agree. Did you expect another outcome?”
That raspy, deep voice is raising goosebumps all over my skin. It’s so resonant and dark, pleasant like the trickle of pine resin, bitter and sweet.
Shaking myself, I fist my hands in the folds of my dress. “I…”
“Did you expect me to jump on you and rip you apart?” He speaks low, every word a breath. “Feast on your entrails?”
Shit. My stomach rebels, and I turn away as memories flood my mind.
“Of course she did,” Della snarls, “what did you think? Your kind almost killed her once. You should be thankful she’s merciful, or you’d be dead already, not walking about pretending to be her protector.”
I don’t hear anything else as I hurry back into my room to heave into the clean chamber pot until my stomach is empty.
Well, that went swimmingly.