She sees who Iam to her. I can feel it. I can feel her with every brutal breath in this material form. Oona thought she was the only one with her claws in the woman before me. But I am the first to see her for what she truly is. Everyone is about to find out something I have always known.
Darkness is not just an abyss, but a fire that burns brighter than the lightest star in the sky because what comes before everything but the dark. And I feel it strongly within her, my pet.
I have plans for her. Plans that have been slowly building and building until—fuck, until that succubus bitch took too much from my pet.She kept taking what wasn’t hers to take, and I’d bided my time long enough. The immersion left me weak. Only now do I have enough strength within. Just in rhythm for Gideon and Dove to walk onto my island.
I felt her as soon as she set foot on the charged land around me. It didn’t creep; it hit me like a lightning bolt.
I saw the fire flicker in her emerald eyes, and it was consuming.
Right now, those golden flames are dancing in the corners of her irises, curling with intent. Probably the intent to maim and kill me.I feel it too, pet.The taste of her honeyed smelling skin lingering in the air makes me lick my lips.
Her full, pink lips frown at me as she grabs the dress out of my hands. “I’m quite willing to offer any assistance if you should need it, my pet.”
My pet loosens her talons and growls, “I don’t need your help. And I am not your pet.”
At least she is playing along. Immersion is a last resort. Plus, considering how weak it left me, it is not a long-term plan.
Storming off past me towards Gideon, she stops in front of him. “Is there a bathroom in this tower of gloom?” She addresses him with less exasperation than she did me.
Gideon gives a slight nod to his right, and she notices the thick velvet curtain leading to the only bathing chamber on the island.
Without another word, my little pet continues her angry march away from me, chestnut sunshine hair disappearing behind the drapes.
This isn’t going to be easy, but lucky for her, I have life on my side. My little human pet, though, she has a much shorter life span, so my plans will need to be rushed.
forty-seven
Dove
Behind the velvet curtain,I find a curved, half-moon-shaped bathroom with a large clawfoot bath steaming with hot water and floor-to-ceiling mirrors surrounding it. A red chaise sits against the opposite wall, waiting for me with a fluffy towel, and beside that, a roll of buttered bread and a cup filled with a reddish liquid.
Looking towards the ceiling, I thank the Goddess for small miracles and dive into the food before luxuriating in the warm bath and sipping the strange, fruity liquid. I wash every inch of my sore and worn body with a charcoal and sandalwood soap, reminding me of a certain wolf.
The small luxuries surprise me, but Fury seems to be more powerful than I ever expected.
Once I am out of the bath, I slip on the silk dress. It glides on effortlessly, pooling against my curves—or lack of—and inching to dust the tops of my feet, with a long slit hitting the top half of my thigh. It is truly the most opulent thing I have ever worn.
My gaze turns towards the many mirrors surrounding me, and I make eyes with the dumbfounded creature before me. A grimace graces my face, and I continue my perusal down. It’s been an age since I’ve taken the time to look at myself, the picture often leaving me queasy.
The dress hugs in at the waist and cowls at the bust, making my chest look larger than it actually is. The small straps somehow manage to hold the whole thing in place.
My fingers instantly go to the harsh patchwork of scars on my neck and chest. Ones I often feel, but rarely ever see in such clarity. My breath stills at the vision of the raised flesh that stretches down my face, past my neck and sprinkles over my breasts. The dress highlights everything I want hidden from the world. I want to roar at the injustice of this life—at the circumstances I was born into, the hand I have been dealt.What if I was born a fae, like Rivern? Would I have been spared the injustices of my people?
Cardinal is right. I am not worthy of being a priestess. I am not pretty enough. My past made sure of that.
Pulling at my sodden hair, extending well below my chest, I twist to walk away from the drowned rat dressed up in the mirror, only to come face to face with Gideon.
I jerk to a halt, and suddenly, I am very aware of the fact that I have no underwear on as I stand in front of a striking wolf shifter who looks good enough to eat.
Without warning, the beast has me spun and once again facing the mirror.
I look up and see how my head barely grazes Gideon’s chest, and continuing my perusal upwards I find amber eyes taking their fill of my body.
Slowly, his hands trace up from my waist, where he moves them beyond my breasts and towards my neck.
A rough humming shocks my senses as Gideon says, “Do you see what I see?”
Stumbling over my words, I ask, “Wh-at do you see?”
