Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
VALERIAN
Hells, I can’t sit here for one moment longer, watching her beside him. They’re talking, and he’s chastising her for her manners.
She’s unhappy. I can see it, hear it. Feel it.
The urge to throttle the man, grab her, and then leave is not letting me breathe. I tug on my collar. I need to get out of here.
Nobody is paying me any attention. Everyone is staring at and gossiping about the lord of the manor, Rosamund, and the sudden betrothal announcement.
Because this is what tonight is, I realize. They never met before, and now he’s announcing that they are betrothed to one another already.
In two weeks. They will be married in two weeks.
Fuck.
I kick at the wall as I stride out of the hall, then slam a door against the wall for good measure.
It’s not cutting it. I need to run, but if I shift now, someone might see me. I’d give myself away. I’m lucky the manservant I almost wolfed out on when we arrived hasn’t told on me.
Cursing a blue streak under my breath, I stomp outside, past servants coming and going with platters of food and decanters of wine. I head toward the kitchens, crossing them and surprising the cooks and kitchen maids. Stepping out of the back door, I find myself in the backyard of the manor.
Finally, I’m outside. Bracing my legs apart, I draw the cold, crisp air into my lungs and let it clear my head.
The scents of the night enter my senses—I smell the soil, the outhouses, the stables, the pigs and chickens and rabbits in their pens.
And then I get the smells from beyond the manor—the trees, the grasses, the animals roaming the meadows and groves, and…
Werewolves. I smell them. We don’t quite smell like wolves. There is an acrid side to our scent, a scent of magic and wrongness. A familiar scent.
Smells like home.
A smile tugs on my lips. Looks like they got my message. These are my people. Leaping down the steps, I stride across the yard and clamber over the wall.
I jump out of the manor’s yard and head for the grove. Sounds rustle all around, and that’s familiar, too. Birds move in the foliage, owls hunt, and animals move in the undergrowth.
I’ll always feel more comfortable out here than in the richest manor.
Another reason why I have no right to ask Rosie to run away with me. She’s in her element. She suffered in the woods with me. Oh, she bloomed, but this is what she knows. What she prefers.
I barely enter the grove when I’m tackled to the ground by a huge, shaggy blond man. I hit the soil on my back, and my breath leaves me.
“You’ve lost your touch,” he growls. “See what a woman does to you?”
“Konstam.” I shove at him. “Kon, get off me, you bleeding idiot.”
“Got the jump on you.” He grins, unrepentant, his face way too close to mine. “It was worth it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now get off. Wait, give me a hand up.”
He jumps to his feet with a laugh and pulls me up. “Getting rusty in your old age?”
“These clothes aren’t comfortable,” I grumble.
He takes a step back and folds his arms over his chest. “Look at you, all cleaned up and dressed to the nines. Did she ask you to dress up?”
“It wasn’t for her,” I say gruffly, fingering the collar around my neck.
“Oh?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I bet it is.” He frowns. “Humans generally are.”
“That’s what they say about the fae.”
“Honestly, everyone is complicated apart from us.” He winks. “Right?”
I chuckle and slap his back. “True story. So it was you following me?”
“Yeah, together with Darian. And yeah, I know, you told us to stay back, but you can’t trust humans, Valen!” His expression changes, a sly look coming into his eyes. “Well… unless it’s a very pretty female.”
I shake my head. “Shut up.”
“Caught her scent, too. Damn sweet.”
“Stop sniffing at my mate!” I snarl, shoving him up against a tree and getting into his face. “Do you hear me?”
“Whoa. Valen.” He lifts his hands. “I hear you. In fact, did I hear you use the word mate?”
“Are you sure?” Konstam asks more quietly. We’re sitting by a small stream, tossing pebbles into the burbling water and just having him there, listening to his stupid voice, makes me nostalgic. I’ve missed home. “About the mate thing?”
“No need to clarify what you meant,” I grouse. “I know it’s a shock.”
“So you’re sure.”
I sigh. “As much as anyone can be without a bite and a consolidation of the bond.”
“Is that why you’re wearing that collar? Did she give it to you?” At my look, he narrows his eyes. “Wait, doesn’t she…?”
“She doesn’t know.”
He’s silent for a few beats. “Do humans even have bonded mates?”
“Yeah, which you’d know if you ever read any history, Kon.”
He shakes his shaggy head and laughs. “You know that me and books don’t get along.”
“Anything that requires sitting your ass down and using your head, you mean.”
He grins. “Exactly. So… are you staying here?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh.” His grin falls. “I thought, you know… for the female? Your mate?”
“She’s getting married to another,” I bite out the words. They grate in my throat like broken glass.
“What the hell, Valen?” He frowns at me. “Wait, are you pulling my leg?”
“Man, I wish I were.”
He throws more pebbles into the stream. “That’s rough.”
“Tell me about it,” I agree.
“We could kidnap her and carry her off the old way, tie her up and—”
“Kon,” I bark.
“Sorry. It was a joke.”
“Was it?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes a girl wants a dark fae to kidnap her and save her from her ugly fate.”
“The problem is that Rosie wants to marry this asshole.”
“Ah, fuck. That’s no good. What a mess.” He hangs his hands between his knees, looking morose. “He’s an asshole, huh?”
I scowl at the tranquil, night landscape. “Rosie likes him.” My enhanced vision can make out everything in the dark, but I don’t really see it, my mind on this Lord Eorl.
“Rosie. Any other pet names?”
“That’s her name, you idiot.”
Konstam smirks. “Sure it is, my friend. Sure it is.”
“Rosamund,” I whisper. “Rosamund Briar, that’s her name. Blue eyes, dark hair, cheeks pink like a blushing rose.”
“Oh fuck, you’re gone.” He chuckles. “Dammit. Never thought I’d see you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Pining and withering over a girl.”
“I’m not pining,” I protest.
“Huh. You could have fooled me.” He throws a pebble at me and I bat it out of the air before it hits my head. “So you’re coming back home, then?”
“That’s the plan.”
“When? Tonight? In your finery?”
“Fuck you.” I shake my head. “We only arrived today.”
“So that means… what? When do you want to go?”
“Give me a couple of days,” I say quietly. “Just to see that she’s settled in fine and the asshole isn’t as bad an asshole as he seemed at first glance.”
“You’re worried about her,” he says.
“She can hold her own. She’s strong. Determined.
Her mind is like a blade.” I smile fondly as memories of her return—her focus, her thirst for knowledge, her touches on my body—and rub at my eyes.
“But men are stronger physically. If only she had magic like the witches close to the rim of the world…”
“It’s unfair,” he agrees, “that females have to outwit bastardly men instead of simply turning them into worms and stepping on them.”
We both ponder this sad fact.
“So… she loves him?” Konstam asks, and I grit my teeth.
“She doesn’t even know him! First laid eyes on him today. She’s carried his miniature portrait with her all this time.”
“Damn…” He makes a face. “Long-term infatuation, huh?”
“An arranged marriage. And get this, he said he expected her to be younger, as she was in the portrait he was sent of her.”
“Younger, as in…?”
“A child,” I growl.
“Fuck.” He snarls. “That’s disgusting.”
“Agreed.”
“I see why you hate him,” he says.
Do I hate him? I suppose I do. For showing such a monstrous side from day one. For having her loyalty, nonetheless. For having her. Willing. Trusting.
He didn’t even have to work to gain her trust. Then again, what’s the point without the struggle? She’s blindly accepting of him.
He’d better not let her down. He’d better improve and be the man she needs, or so may the Gods help me…
What? I’ll go and kill him? Steal her and run? This is her choice. As long as she knows it’s a choice.
I’d better make sure she does.