“Oh,” Aunt Helana whispers slowly like realization just bitch-slapped every one of them at the same damn time.
Shit. I didn’t smile right… Why does my face do that? Why?
“Glowing. Definitely.” I nod to try to ease the tragic look of worry every single one of them is tossing my way. “I will glow so fucking hard,” I add before trailing that thought off into tense silence. “I’m going to lie down.” I finally let it go while staring at them in the mirror, but I can see the damage is done.
I say nothing for a beat longer, and during that time, Lisah whispers something aboutcrazyonce more to Aunt Helana. She always has to drop theCword around me.
The cunt.
My eyes narrow on the round woman, and her mouth snaps shut in an instant, because my mother will never tell them my one hidden secret. Instead, she’ll warn them every day of their lives about mytemper.
It’s a fiery thing, she tells them.
And she’s not wrong.
There are no more words to say. Nothing I can say could explain why I’m not overjoyed Mika picked me. Even when I’m not speaking, I’m still screwing life up.
It’s not my fault.
I told Father I wanted to join our leaders. Or at the very least, I wanted to become a Fighter Wolf and keep our pack safe. I told them all what I’d hoped for in life.
But father died.
And I’m too pretty to waste the Goddess’s gifts.
A beautiful face isn’t meant for politics or war.
Sometimes I wonder if it would hurt less to hear that praise of my features if I’d known beauty as a friend my entire life.
But I didn’t. I didn’t grow up pretty. I grew up sturdy and brutish like my father. I was always his little shadow trying to be just like papa.
Then one day, I was beautiful. My mother emphasized it and told everyone daily. And I’d never realized how much it hurt to know I wasn’t before.
I was oblivious to my chubby cheeks and soft adolescent belly. I was blind to that unwanted appearance. Until everyone reminded me day in and day out:Cersia, you’re so beautiful. Your mother must be so proud. You’re going to make a man very lucky one day.
Yes, yes. But imagine if I could keep my graying mother safe. Or if I could outwit any man. Oh, the things I’d give to outwit Mika to his stupid, brick-like face.
Not that I can’t. I certainly can. But damn, Goddess Moon, back me up sometimes.
None of the quiet women stop me as I wander back to my mother’s bedroom and shut the door. I sit at the edge of the quilted mattress for a long time and consider my options.
The thing is, I don’t have any. I can only do my duty as a woman and mate with Mika to keep a family secret kept very far in the dark.
It was my father’s burden, and now it is my own.
And I’ll carry it just as he did: crying and bitching every step of the way.
So, I stare out the little square window on the far wall of the cottage and wait for the dread to ease into acceptance. I wait. And I wait. And I wait.
An hour passes as the sun settles low in the pale blue sky, and my stomach still turns sickly. My teeth are still clenched tightly.
And most curiously of all, the inky black shadow pacing at the tree line is still watching me.
He’s my one distraction from all of this.
He’s a stranger. The black-haired wolf hidden in the brush isn’t one of ours. Darker wolves are an ominous sighting in our pack. They’re as rare as dragons nowadays. Wolves like this don’t come here. They’re not our kind.
The darkness of the creature alone feels like an omen.
