Then the seriousness of my situation slams into me like a punch when I see the werewolf standing there.
My Gods.I take a step back. I hadn’t expected…
Hadn’t expected him to be muzzled.
I almost laugh, a nervous chuckle choking me, because do they think he needs his mouth to kill me? One of his clawed hands would be more than enough.
Oh, he’s also wearing black leather gloves, and his wrists are tied together with a rope.
Creative. And even more hilarious. What use are these contraptions when he can transform and rip them all off?
But above all, I hadn’t expected him to be so… imposing. I cast about for a negative word, an insulting word, but can’t find one. Imposing, broad-shouldered and tall, the line of his jaw defined, his brows straight like slashes, his amber eyes with their black flecks…
Why am I staring at his eyes? Or his jaw, or shoulders, for that matter?
What’s wrong with me?
My fingers tighten around the leash, a no-nonsense steel chain with a hook at one end and a leather strap at the other.
“Let me hook that in, my lady,” one of my trusted manservants says, Kier. “I can drag him along kicking and screaming if need be.”
Good Gods.That’s humans for you. In the past few centuries, we forgot how dangerous the fae can be.
Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I’ll do it.”
“My lady.” Della reaches for me. “Don’t!”
I don’t know what possesses me. Maybe a visceral need to get over the crippling fear. I step forward, getting close, way too close to the werewolf. I look up and up, past bloodied flesh and unreal muscles bulging through torn clothes to the leather muzzle and those blazing yellow eyes?—
Kier grabs me, hauling me aside, shoving his hand against the middle of the werewolf’s massive chest. “Stay back!”
A blade flashes as the other manservant steps in. The knife sweeps in a circle, leaving a new gash in already bloodied flesh.
The werewolf snarls but stops, panting harshly.
“Don’t move,” the other manservant says, grabbing the leash from me and hooking the chain in the man’s collar. He’s towering over both human men, even more so than the averagefae. I don’t object when the manservant drags the werewolf after him. “After you, my lady.”
Numb, inwardly shaking with fear, I hesitate. Della takes my hand, and I take enough strength from her presence to start walking.
Well, that went splendidly.
“Rosie!” As I walk toward the stairs that lead down to the great hall, my cousins hurry toward us, but they slow down when they notice my companions.
“Oh, Gods.” Mina presses a hand to her bosom. “He’s… tall.”
Pausing, I glance over my shoulder and loose a sharp breath. He’s still way too close, hulking over us, head bowed, that strangely ashen hair with the white streak falling in his eyes. His muzzle and bound wrists, his collared neck with the leash, his human-like countenance, they do nothing to make him seem less threatening.
I stumble back and crash into Mina. Orlen grabs me, steadying me.
The werewolf’s golden gaze is pinned on my face. My throat is so dry I can’t swallow. Can barely breathe. Flashes of the past fill my head. Phantom aches spring up all over my body. Fear wraps around my spine like a snake.
“Come.” Mina tugs on my arm. “Let’s go find your stepfather so he can stop this stupid charade.”
Good idea.This can’t go on any longer. Turning my back to the monster takes effort. My cousins’ presence and Della’s hand around mine help. I hate that I require aid to go on, when everyone around me seems to take this in their stride.
A dark fae, a werewolf in our house, an alpha, the strongest of his kind—muzzled and tied up in flimsy rope, a delicate chain serving as his leash.
Sometimes I think people live in a bubble, in a rose-tinged dream, and I’m the only one who can see through it to the other side, to the real world, the danger and cruelty and fear.
