We’re enjoying a nightcap in his room, sitting in front of a crackling fireplace. After seeing Sierra and Leisel off, I decided to join him for a drink—clearly a strategic error on my part, since he’s taking the opportunity to rib me.
“As well as expected. She didn’t like it when I informed her she’d be joining us when we return to Kinrith tomorrow.” An understatement, considering how the time ended. “How’d trying not to scare her sister in Sierra’s absence go?”
Wyatt’s amused expression sours instantaneously. I don’t revel in the change—probably because I understand the discomfort that comes with being rejected by one’s mate. Fortunately, my brother does have it easier, since Leisel’s so young; his regard for her is currently brotherly and pure. It’ll change to romantic only once she’s of a mature age. So, he’s not a sexual mess like I am.
“She stared at her fucking pet the entire time, pretending no one else was in the room. I never thought a wolf could be jealous of agoddamn chipmunk. Clearly, Sierra’s only fed Leisel negative information about us. Lies, probably.”
My expression hardens. His words are an offhanded insult of sorts to my mate, which is unacceptable to me. My wolf doesn’t like it either and directs a snarl at Wyatt.Imight take issue with the views of my mate, but I won’t allow others to disrespect her.
“Tread carefully,” I tell him quietly. “Sierra is to be your queen. Humans often villainize mythics—they have no reason to see us as anythingbutmonsters.”
That fact has never bothered me until now because humans were frankly beneath my notice. Now that I have a mate who, though not entirely human, grew up among them, I’m being lent an unpleasant new perspective.
My father was merely a boy when my grandfather first invaded this realm. Grandfather didn’t actively kill any humanshimself,but in the absence of the technology they so heavily relied on, humans started dropping like flies. It really was a case of survival of the fittest—the strong bloodlines prevailed, the weak fell.
I don’t entirely agree with his decision, but I can understand it. He’d been disgusted by just how much of this world had been destroyed by its inhabitants—repulsed by how much greed had impacted this realm. To him, the logical solution was to allow the weak and greedy to die out. There were a few groups of individuals who actively hunted humans, mostly rogues, but for the most part, natural selection took its course.
Even if I did wish to change his actions, I can’t. What’s done isdone, and my penance for not making changes during my rule is experiencing my mate’s anger.
It took me off-guard, however, that Sierra was so angry she actually tried to kill me. There’s no other explanation for using such a destructive power against me. I can see that worry over her sister pushed her to act rashly and even sympathize with the sentiment. If anyone threatened Wyatt’s life, they’d be dead before they could second-guess doing so.
As unfortunate as it might be, I was left with little choice but to punish her in a way that will serve as a hard deterrent from her ever trying such a thing again. While shifters are animalistic when it comes to sex,especiallywith mates—biting, scratching, leaving marks for all to see—a belt wasn’t fun and games. Although I believe it worked, and Sierra won’t try such a thing again, it certainly didn’t help change her view of me. Instead, she now has more reason than ever to view me as the villain.
Fuck.
I gulp down the whiskey in my cup and run a hand through my hair, wondering if I’ll experience the harmony of matehood. Perhaps Claude was right; I should’ve waited for the gods to put her in my path, though I don’t see how that would’ve changed any outcome. Whether our meeting was by accident or construct, she’d have despised me.
Wyatt watches me before quietly conceding, “You’re right. I guess it’s our job to shift our mates’ views from openly hostile to something better.”
“Indeed,” I respond gruffly. “How are preparations for our newest members going?”
Wyatt snorts. “Speedily. Everyone in the castle is working around the clock. By the time we arrive, everything for the Queen and Princess will be ready. Are we riding all the way to Kinrith in one day, or will we make camp somewhere overnight?”
“We’ll make camp. Sierra and Leisel don’t have our strength or stamina; traveling will tire them. Have lady’s maids been assigned?”
Wyatt nods. “Yes. Greta will be Leisel’s—she does well with young ones. Cara will be Sierra’s.”
“Where are their rooms located?”
“The two attached rooms in the East Wing. Both wardrobes are already being assembled and will be prepared by the time we arrive.”
I nod in satisfaction. Then, recalling what Aspen told me about Sierra’s painting hobby I say, “Get a painter’s studio set up in the castle. Have it filled with any and everything an artist would need.”
“It’ll be done,” Wyatt responds easily. “You think that’ll earn you points with your mate?”
Recalling the hatred-filled glare Sierra gave me before leaving, I grimace. “No time soon. But hopefully it’ll afford her some comfort while she adjusts.”
***
The following morning, Sierra pulls the door to her small cabin open before I have the chance to knock, clearly having expected me.
She’s dressed in similar clothing to what she wore last night—extremely worn-down shirt and pants, both articles looking like they might fall apart any minute. Somehow, Sierra manages to make the tattered clothes look sinful, her curves filling them out beautifully. Still, I look forward to seeing her in more expensive clothing—materials I expect will hug her body as if they were made for her. In many cases, they will be.
With her expression set in a look of disgust, one I’m starting to get accustomed to, she gives me a once-over. She glances behind me and sees a group of my pack mates gathered on the horses we’ll be using to travel. Wyatt stands by two mares that I intend to offer to Sierra and Leisel for the journey.
“Good morning,” I say to my lovely, pissed-off-looking mate. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes,” she clips.
