Текст книги "The poison daughter"

Автор книги: Sheila Masterson

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 48 страниц)

His breath ghosts over the nape of my neck as he speaks. “Then we’ll be brought to the ceremony room. There’s a bed at the center and couches and seating around the perimeter where everyone is welcome to station themselves.”

“To watch?” I ask.

He nips at my neck, and I gasp.

“Yes. To witness me claiming my new wife. To be certain that I’m capable of pleasing her.”

I frown. “Plenty of women can’t get off with a partner by no fault of their own.”

“Yes, but there needs to be a believable connection. To make sure that neither of us is faking our commitment to each other. And there’s particular pressure on me as their heir to be able to please his wife. If I can’t deliver on my commitment to you, I won’t be able to deliver for them, and since my family has already failed to protect them once, the pressure is on.”

“That’s a lot to risk on a stranger.” Especially a stranger he’s supposed to hate—a stranger whose family nearly wiped his people out, assuming he knows that’s the case.

His lips brush over my pulse. The instinct to pull away from him wars with the satisfaction of being touched this way.

It’s been too long since Bea and almost a lifetime before that. There was an occasional tumble with a handsome idiot from one of the bars I snuck off to, but those were always quick and disappointing.

Henry’s slow and sensual kisses on my throat are so different and not unwelcome. He’s being too bold and no one is here to watch this. I should stop him. I should pull away.

“We worship Kennymyra, the Divine of Pleasure, and we take the pursuit of pleasure very seriously,” he says.

“Will I have to be naked? I was measured for undergarments this morning,” I rasp.

He pauses. “You strike me as very confident in your body.”

“That doesn’t mean I wish to share it with the world.”

He hums softly against my neck. “You can choose to keep them on if you’d like, but the acts are very clear. Whatever you wear needs to be something that allows me to get my face between your thighs.”

I clench my legs together involuntarily. Trying to deny my attraction to him would be ridiculous at this point. There’s a ruggedness to Henry’s good looks. So many of the men in Lunameade are pretty, but soft. Henry’s hands are callused, his forearms marked with faint scars. And he’s confident in the way of someone who has rarely been denied.

“I’m going to make you come with my mouth and my cock.” He says it so matter-of-factly—like he’s talking about the weather or what he’s planning to wear to dinner.

I clear my throat. “I don’t know if I can climax more than once.”

“You can.”

His confidence chafes. It breaks the spell.

I tilt my head, glaring at him over my shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

“If you’re so certain you’re an unsolvable puzzle, then perhaps we should practice ahead of time.” His grin turns roguish.

I choke on a startled laugh. “Of course that’s your suggestion.”

“I’m not above taking instruction. Show me how it’s done.” He gestures to the table.

Warmth spreads up my neck to my cheeks. He wants me to get myself off in front of him right here, right now.

“Didn’t think you’d be one to blush, lovely,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not. I was just caught off guard by the suggestion. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“So you like to be watched?”

My stomach twists at the gruffness of his tone. I do, but he hasn’t earned that information.

“What I like is irrelevant. This is a business arrangement.”

“Well, if that’s your attitude about sex, I understand why you haven’t had much success with a partner.”

I shoot him a scathing look, but he just laughs.

“Harlow, you’re going to need to lighten up. Show me. I promise to keep my hands to myself. Perhaps you’re not as sure of yourself as I thought.”

I have to rise to the occasion. He needs to be humbled. Thank the Divine I only brought scandalous underthings with me.

I shove the book onto the floor and slide onto the table, hiking my dress up in one smooth motion.

He goes silent as he catches a glimpse of the green silk garters.

“For someone so focused on practicality, you certainly seem to appreciate fancy undergarments,” I taunt, sliding my fingers over the top of the stockings.

“Well, they hardly seem frivolous on your body—though one wonders why you bother wearing something so intricate if you weren’t planning on showing it off.”

I frown. “Bold to assume that I wear them for anyone but myself.” I snap one of the garters, and his hands flex at his sides. “Want to know what I like, Henry?”

He tracks my fingers as they slide higher, gently rubbing over the lace between my legs. I’m already wet and I don’t doubt that I’m going to be able to easily get myself off in front of him simply because he’s turned it into a challenge. If I was focused on anything but the finish line, I’d be more self-conscious, but the only thing I’m focused on now is my desire to get the upper hand back in our exchange.

If he was one of the idiots I snuck off with back in Lunameade, I might try for the performance of it all, giving him a good look and reminding him that he can’t touch.

But Henry is something else entirely and the freedom of me focusing on my own pleasure will get to him more than even my finest performance.

I close my eyes and tip my head back as I drag the strip of lace to the side. Henry lets out a sigh, and I feel his gaze fixed on my hand. The table creaks as I lean back and draw my hand away, letting him have a clear view.

Then, I slide my fingers over my clit and sigh. With my eyes closed, I watch the pulse of his aura as it swells and shifts around his body, forming a crude outline of him. I’ve tried not to study it too closely, but now I see the intricacy of it. It’s a deep purple, but as it swells, it looks almost like a burnt plum color closer to his skin.

I move my fingers faster, pinching my clit before sliding a finger inside myself. I moan.

Henry’s aura flares wider, pressing right up to the edge of mine.

My skin is hot as I pump my fingers faster and rub the heel of my palm over my clit. My muscles tense as I chase my pleasure and try to ignore Henry altogether.

Instead, I think of his eyes, the deep blue of a stormy sky at dusk. I think of the way he felt pressed against me last night and the feeling of his lips on my neck. I think of bending him to my will and getting control of my life back once and for all.

The climax hits me out of nowhere—a soft swell of pent-up pleasure that rolls through me like a wave. Goosebumps rise on my skin and I gasp as I ride it out. When I finally blink my eyes open, Henry is closer—only a few inches away—his gaze fixed between my thighs.

“Did you learn something, my feral wolf?” I draw my fingers free and suck them clean, my eyes on Henry’s.

His nostrils flare and his hands fist at his sides. He licks his lips. “Now that you’ve educated me, you should know we have a dinner with all the most influential families at the fort tomorrow night. I’ve sent a dress to your room and you’ll be expected to be on your best behavior.”

I lean back and offer him one last glance at my undergarments before letting my dress fall back in place. “Is this not my best behavior? I haven’t even murdered anyone.”

He arches a brow. “Yet.”

“Excellent point. There’s still time.” I glance at the book beside me. “Anything else I need to know about this?”

“They will know if you fake it.”

I freeze. “How?”

“Those with blessings from Kennymyra can always tell, but there’s an enchanted golden sigil in the headboard of the bed that absorbs that released pleasure and acts as an offering to Divine Kennymyra.”

I stare at Henry, waiting for humor to break through, but he’s not joking. My mouth is suddenly dry and my hands are clammy.

“Not sure what to do when you have to stop pretending, huh?”

I glare at him. “More concerned you won’t be able to finish the job.”

A predatory smirk spreads over his face. “I can’t wait to make you scream.”

The words send a pleasant shiver through me.

I jump down from the table and walk toward the library doors. When I push into the hall, I expect to feel better without the weight of Henry’s assessing gaze on me. But the certainty in his words haunt me, the echo of them chasing me down the hall and all the way back to my room.

OceanofPDF.com

19HARLOW

Henry said he sent a dress for me to wear to dinner. He did not say it was going to be a barely-appropriate-for-public-consumption kind of dress.

The one-shoulder red silk corset is covered in glittering beads, and the neckline scoops to show a scandalous amount of cleavage. The silk gathers at my right hip and drops into a flowing skirt with a slit up the right thigh nearly to my hip. It is exactly the kind of dress that I would go hunting for abusers in. How irritating that Henry has good taste.

It’s more frustrating that he isn’t here yet and I’m forced to smile awkwardly at a room full of people whose hatred for me is practically a life force. After our time in the library yesterday and all I learned about the ritual, I’ve been avoiding him. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because I don’t want to think about the awkwardness of this arrangement any more than I have to.

I glance around the dining room. The tables form a U-shape, with Henry and my table at the top, and his parents beside us. It’s meant to make everyone feel like they have an equitable place and view of the room, while allowing servants easy access to everyone. Unfortunately, it also means that everyone has an opportunity to gawk at me.

Gaven is a steady presence at my back, leaning against the wall just out of my peripheral vision. I know it’s a reflex of his to stay out of sight so he’s less intrusive in my daily life, but now I’d like to be more aware of his presence.

I knew I would be unwelcome here, especially after what Kellan shared before I left, but it’s hard to tell if this is because they’re naturally distrustful of outsiders, if they blame my family generally for the massacre, or if they all know what Kellan shared with me before I left.

Even if Kellan hadn’t shared the information about my father’s involvement with me before I left Lunameade, I wouldn’t be surprised if the people of Mountain Haven blamed my family. Protection of both the city and the fort has always been a Carrenwell responsibility.

Most of the faces in the room wear the same mask of irritated hostility. All except for a man at the first table to my right. He looks almost bemused when I meet his dark eyes. His assessment is like having the silk peeled from my skin.

Ignoring him, I pick at the candle wax that has dripped onto the golden tablecloth in front of me and gulp down my wine.

A subtle hush comes over the crowd as Henry steps into the room. He comes to stand beside my chair, bending to kiss my hand with a gentle brush of his lips.

“Good evening to my lovely bride,” he whispers, straightening again. “Good evening, everyone. I apologize for my lateness. I had to see to an injured hunter who returned with this afternoon’s party.” He lifts his wine glass and looks around the room. “Thank you for being here tonight to meet my wife-to-be and to show your support for this union that will provide us the resources and security that we need to continue to flourish here.”

I swear I can feel their skepticism in the way their rainbow of auras flare and dance. People who can’t see magic are usually less aware of the way their auras shift with their moods. It’s an advantage my family is careful not to share much about. You never know when it could be valuable.

Henry gives me an indulgent smile. “Now, my bride-to-be has something she’d like to say.”

My stomach plummets. It takes all my years of impeccable self-control to not react to this surprise challenge. He said nothing about public speaking.

I rise from my seat and smile at the room as a servant hustles forward to refill my wine glass. My hand is so clammy, I nearly drop it when I pick it up. I take a breath, frantically trying to come up with something wise to say to a room full of people who loathe me.

I clear my throat. “I’ve never left the city walls. I know what you’re all thinking—that I have no business marrying your heir.”

Several onlookers’ expressions shift from loathing to surprise.

“You’re right. It would not be my choice if it was up to me. But centuries ago, when my ancestors discovered the well, the blessing bestowed by Divine Vardek came with a holy duty to protect their clan. Ten years ago, my family failed to protect the people of Mountain Haven. That failure cost you friends and family. That’s a debt I can’t repay. I won’t pretend I can comprehend your losses and there’s nothing I can do that would soothe your grief. But I’m here now to ask for the chance to try to right the wrongs of the past in some small way—to repent on behalf of my family, by securing your future.”

I pause and look out over the sea of stunned faces. Some of them still look skeptical. I’m laying it on a bit too thick, but I’m too nervous and on the spot to lie better. My stomach roils, and I have to take a deep breath so as not to vomit my wine all over the beautiful floral-wreathed candle centerpiece.

“My magic is strong, and Divine Vardek has blessed my bloodline.” My tone is a little too blunt, but I press on. “It’s no secret that you’ve lost your heir. The Divine have mysterious ways, and we cannot imagine their plans for us. We all know there are both nature and nurture elements to Divine blessings, but I am the last single Carrenwell. My marrying Henry is the best chance you have to carry on living here safely with future Havenwoods defending your walls with holy fire. I can’t undo the past, but I can secure your future.”

The crowd shifts, and I pause to let them take in my words.

“I’m not asking you to love me, or even to like me,” I say. “I merely ask that you tolerate me.” I hold up my glass. “May the Divine bless this union, this feast, and this fort. To the well.”

Everyone repeats after me and sips their wine.

I sit down next to Henry, hoping I didn’t sweat through my dress. The panic in my body dissipates, leaving a dull ache behind my eyes. It could be the wine or my nerves, but it’s the first hint of trouble. My body always knows, the way some people’s bones ache before the sky darkens with a storm.

I take three deep breaths, trying to stave off the attack. I can’t deal with a fort of enemies, a poison-proof fiancé, whatever madness is awaiting me the moment I let my guard down, and excruciating pain.

For the millionth time since my attacks started as a child, I’m frustrated with the inconvenience of being burdened with this body.

Henry leans close. “That was quite a speech, but you’re looking a little pale. Not a fan of public speaking?”

I scoff. “To a room of people who hate me?”

He sighs. “They don’t hate you, Harlow. They just don’t trust you. They don’t trust any outsiders. No traders who visit are allowed beyond the first level of the fort. Since the attack, our people have become much more cautious.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask how exactly the wall came down, but if I ask too soon, he’ll know it’s information I need, and that will just give him more incentive to hold it back.

I glance over Henry’s shoulder toward the man watching me as he sips his wine. “Who is that?”

Henry follows my gaze, and his face instantly darkens. He brushes a kiss to my cheek and leans close to my ear. “Stefan Laurence. His family is important, well-liked, and they’d very much like to be in charge here.”

I hum in amusement. “I do love an ambitious man.”

“Not him, lovely.” Henry nips at my ear. “You are a weakness.”

I scoff.

He whispers before I can argue, “You are my weakness in his eyes. If he can hurt you—or, worse, win you over—it will chip away at the people’s confidence in me.”

Strength above all. It’s what rules this place. I’m starting to see how I could make havoc, but it’s not worth making unless it would result in a better outcome.

“Do not, under any circumstances, go near him,” Henry says.

“Looks like he’s about to go near me.”

Henry’s hand comes to my lower back as he straightens and turns me to face his approaching nemesis. This would be more fun if my head weren’t starting to throb. I cast a glance at Gaven, and a hazy halo forms around the candelabra beside him.

Dread blooms in my chest at the clear sign of a pain episode. I need to get out, and quickly. I look toward the doorway as I take a long sip of my wine. Gaven seems to notice my agitation. I see a question in his eyes, but there’s no easy way out of this room right now.

A bright orange aura swells in my periphery. I turn back to face Stefan. He’s more clean-cut than I would expect of a mountain man, but perhaps he thinks the clean-shaven face and slicked-back dark hair fool people. The look in his dark eyes is too intense.

His magic probes at me. The gifts of the Divine of Malice have tendrils that reach out, looking for a way to hook into their victim.

But this isn’t like what happened with Seth, because Stefan doesn’t have surprise on his side. Fear and manipulation magic requires finding a way into the other person’s psyche. It’s bold of him since he doesn’t know what my magic is, but it wouldn’t be the first time a man tried to test me.

I steel myself, giving him nothing but a confident smile. I’ve met plenty of men of his measure, and most of them are dead now.

He prods at me with his magic, looking for any hint of fear or doubt. When he realizes he can’t get his hooks in me, he draws back and gives me a long, lascivious look. “When I heard the rumors that you were marrying a Carrenwell, I didn’t believe it, Henry. You, of all people.”

Henry’s hand slides from my back to curve around my waist.

“But now I see the appeal, though I thought it would take more than a pretty face for you to forget who failed to keep us safe ten years ago,” Stefan says.

Henry bristles, his hand flexing on my waist. “I’m focused on securing our future, not the tragedy of our past. You’ve never been one for forethought, though. That’s why you’re up here being rude to my bride-to-be in front of everyone. That’s why you seem to have conveniently forgotten that those who live on principles alone die by them.”

Stefan stills, as if considering whether to press on or go back to his seat. “Heartwarming to see you so protective already, but I simply had to come say hello after your bride spent so much time eye-fucking me earlier.”

I laugh from sheer shock. “That’s one way to see things. I was simply studying you, like when you spot a beast in the wild. But I don’t play with wild animals. I hunt them.”

Stefan’s smug grin disintegrates. “Sharp tongue for a city girl.”

“What can I say? I like the taste of blood,” I say.

Stefan’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks from me to Henry. “Do you?” A sly smile splits his face. “I guess you’ll fit right in with this parasitic family who lives off the hard labor of the people of Mountain Haven.”

I should probably make peace, not war—I need Henry to work with me, after all—but I can’t help myself when a man needs to be put in his place.

I cock my head to the side and nearly wince from the pulsing pressure growing behind my eyes. “And yet, here you are dining at their table and drinking their wine after trying to use your magic on me just moments ago.”

Stefan frowns. I can practically see his resolve waning—the recognition that he’s chosen the wrong approach and made a bad first impression.

“Now, now, lovely. Let’s be cordial,” Henry chides.

Stefan crosses his arms and juts his chin out, clearly eager for a public conflict with Henry. He understands I’m more than just a pawn now. I’m curious to see how he uses that information and what I might be able to learn from his efforts.

Henry obviously lacks that wisdom, but his underestimation is my advantage, so I’m not about to educate him until I’m certain I can land a killing blow.

“Shall we speak privately?” Henry asks. There’s a subtle threat in his tone.

Stefan purses his lips. “Are you challenging me?”

“Merely asking if we need to have a private conversation,” Henry says coolly.

I want to stay and watch how this drama unfolds between Henry and Stefan. Any enemy of Henry’s is someone worth at least paying attention to. If I can learn what the pain points are for the people of Mountain Haven, I can figure out who is most willing to share secrets about the Havenwoods.

Pain pulses to life behind my eyes. I need to leave while Henry’s distracted, speaking in hushed whispers with Stefan. What was a mild ache is growing more powerful by the second. I close my eyes to chase away the sensation, but when I open them, a bright ring of white light mutes my vision.

Panic twists in my chest. I’m having an episode in a room full of people who won’t stop staring at me.

There are two doors to an outside patio directly across from me. It’s not ideal, but it’s an option. There are three more sets of doors behind us, but I can’t see the clearest route without projecting my intention to bolt.

I try to bargain with the merciless god of my body not to do this now, in a room full of adversaries, so far from home. But the pain has no master. It is a clawed beast that I can’t fight off much longer. I need to run.

I look at Gaven and tap my breastbone three times. By the mercy of some Divine who doesn’t hate me, he takes the hint. He closes the space between us in a few quick strides, but before he can get to me, Henry takes my hand.

“A dance, lovely?”

I look beyond him, but Stefan is gone—chased back to his table and glaring daggers at Henry.

I frown up at Henry. His aura has turned into a bright, shining purple light.

This is catastrophically bad timing. Even with my head throbbing and my vision swimming in light, I can feel every eye in the room on us.

Henry leans closer, his face coming into focus. “Your pupils are huge. Did you take something?”

I shake my head. A mistake. The blood in my head sloshes and I almost fall over from the wave of dizziness. “Too much wine.”

There’s a chuckle from the table beside us and a few hushed whispers I can’t make out. I’m mortified, but it’s better they think I’m a lightweight than defective.

The last place I need to show a weak spot is miles from home in the heart of a hostile fort. The only person in this room that I trust is Gaven, and I only trust him enough to get me back to my room safely.

Henry’s head snaps to the side, clearly noticing that Gaven is making his way toward me.

“What’s going on, Harlow?” Henry whispers.

“I think I just need to lie down. The wine went to my head.”

He dips his head. The winter-forest scent of him hits me all at once, and I have to fight the urge to lean into him—to tuck my face into the crook of his neck and rest.

Clearly, I’m very unwell.

Henry is not my salvation. He’s not even my friend. He is just the means to an end. My end, if I’m not more careful.

“Tell me what’s going on right now,” Henry whispers.

“I did,” I snap.

My vision turns splotchy, blood pounding in my ears. The attack is coming on so fast. It used to take longer. I used to have more time to hide. It’s getting worse.

“Gaven will take me back to my room now. Thank you for being so concerned about me getting a good night sleep. Such a doting husband-to-be,” I say loudly.

Several chuckles rise from the tables around us. They think I’m taunting him, and I guess I am, but I’d rather be seen to be teasing than fleeing.

Behind Henry’s shoulder, the dark splotch of Gaven comes into view. I know him by his naturally rigid gait, because he’s walked beside me my whole life and I have often needed to find him while blind with pain and trying to hide it.

The ache is splitting me open, nausea turning over the little bit of dinner I managed to force down. It’s coming on much too fast. I need to get out of this room before I completely implode. I step around Henry and take Gaven’s arm.

“Good night, my wolf,” I say over my shoulder, forcing my face into a bright, teasing smile.

Just before we step out of the room, I hear Bryce laugh and mimic, “My wolf.”

In the hallway, Gaven tightens his grip on me. “How bad?” he asks, rushing me down the half-lit hallway.

“Terrible. I don’t know why. I went to the well right before we left home. It shouldn’t be like this.”

Unless it’s beyond the well’s healing. Or, worse, corruption from the well itself—my body reminding me I’m so full of poison that I’m rotting from the inside out.

“How long do we have?” Gaven loops an arm around my waist when we get to the stairs and practically hauls me up the two flights.

“Seconds.”

Several servants gawk as we rush by, but I don’t bother to smile or act fine. Let them all think I’m a drunk. It’s better than them thinking that I’m weak.

I stumble down the dark hallway. With the throbbing in my head, I don’t mind the dim light, but my blurred and haloed vision casts a strange glow in the hall, like we’re walking through a sea of ghosts.

Just breathe, Harlow. Just breathe.

I’ve lost all sense of time and reason. It’s just me and the searing ache splitting my brain down the center. This is it. I have fought and fought, but this time I’m done.

This time, the agony will win. This time, I will die.

The pain is a liar. But right now, I believe it.

I know this perilous feeling—the tipping point between wanting to survive and being afraid to.

Aidia’s haunting whispers echo through my mind. “Some people have something extra driving them, Low. You’re a survivor.”

I don’t feel like one now.

Finally, we get to the door of my room. Gaven rips it open, nearly dropping me in the process. I’m too overcome with the blinding ache to chide him. I just want something cool on my head.

He kicks the door closed behind us with a grunt and clicks the lock into place.

“Washroom floor,” I rasp.

Gaven hauls me into the adjoining room and lowers me beside the tub.

I gesture toward the door that leads to Henry’s room. “Lock him out. He can’t know about this before the wedding.”

Before Gaven can close the washroom door that leads to Henry’s room, Kyrin trots in. Gaven freezes, but I just groan. If the wolf wants to rip my throat out, at least it will end my misery.

Instead, Kyrin whines and nudges my hand with his nose.

“Go away,” I groan, drawing my hand back.

The wolf whines again.

I try to force some sort of authority into my voice. “I said go away. Go back in his room.”

I wince and open my eyes to see Kyrin take two steps toward the wrong door—the one that leads to my room.

“Do you want me to…” Gaven’s voice trails off when he doesn’t have a solution to offer.

“Just lock the door to Henry’s room. One beast at a time,” I say, rolling onto my side and hugging my roiling stomach.

Gaven shuts the door. The faucet turns on, and a moment later, he places a cool washcloth on my forehead.

“Thank you,” I whisper. My breaths are shallow. The floor is cool under my clammy cheek. Sweat beads on the back of my neck.

Gaven’s voice cuts through the pounding rush of my heartbeat in my ears. “I’ll be outside your room.”

His boots click on the floor as he walks away.

“Gaven,” I whisper. “Don’t leave yet.”

Even with my eyes closed, I can sense him there, torn between staying and going. Since Gaven’s only power is borrowed, his aura is the white of those who don’t have a magic blessing granted by the Divine.

Gaven has seen the moments before the pain descends, but he’s always been banished before it consumes me. Either way, he’s not warm. He’s always maintained a strong boundary between guard and caretaker. I doubt he will change that now, but I can barely care.

My dress sticks to my clammy skin. I am nothing but agony and I can’t stand to feel it alone.

Kyrin lets out a huff of disapproval from the threshold to my room.

A moment later, the light shifts behind my eyes. Gaven sighs and sits beside me. I reach out, and he takes my hand.

“I miss Aidy,” I whisper.

I sound so pathetic. A thirty-year-old woman who wants her sister because she’s lonely and in pain. When I’m hurting, all of the things I’ve been shoving away can get to me. I’m mortified by my profound weakness, by the fact that someone other than my sister is seeing it.

Gaven squeezes my hand. “I know,” he says after a long moment.

We stay like that for a long time, with him acting like this is a normal request, and me breathing through the wretched agony.

OceanofPDF.com