Chapter 12

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

They don't speak, don't move their lips, but their chests rise as though they are breathing. I stare at them in the late morning — my infernal men — while still under my blankets. One is black-haired and the other is brown-haired, and they stand at the same height. Their features are those of ordinary, shifting men in their human form. They look back at me from the end of my bed, and they blink without the need to. After a long while, I say, "My robe."

The black-haired man breaks away from his brother, and he walks around my bed and out of sight. "I'll be attending a meeting soon," I tell the one remaining. "Fetch the black dress from my wardrobe and my other necessities. You know what they are, don't you?"

The brunette nods and begins his task as the other returns with my white, silk robe. He opens it for me and stands ready for my arms to slide into the loose sleeves. I leave my bed and turn to do so, and he steps back for me to then sit at my dressing table. I pick up my hairbrush but pause before starting. My eyes connect with the black-haired man, and I hold up the brush to him. He comes forth and takes the comb, knowing to be thorough but gentle as he brushes—holding one blonde lock in his palm at a time as he glides through.

When it is time to change clothes, I request they wait at the entrance to the apartment so I can drop my nightdress in the bedchamber. They are not normal men, but I've learned not to assume a demon's desires.

The pieces of clothing the brunette man chose are exactly right; the black dress lined with wool, my shift, and underthings — all plainly reasonable. Their voicelessness leaves me with no option but to name them, and I conjure up a few ideas as I ready myself. The only thing I have had the pleasure of naming was the old dog Looker — such a name came to me when I found him sniffing about the courtyards, always searching for something to chew on. However, I cannot take creative liberties now. These men must have unquestionable names.

I enter the front room and find the pair waiting like statues. "You," I say at the brunette, "you will be Larris. And you," I face the other, "are Carden. Both common names in the city, both unmemorable and pedestrian, as you should act."

I clear my throat and smooth my heavy skirt. "Now, follow me."

My hair lays along my back and breast, catching wind as we walk down the corridors to the meeting room chosen for the merger work. I twirl some strands around my finger and already picture Alexei's distracted gaze. My teeth grind and my eyes close. There is nothing I want more in this moment than to jump on Alexei and strangle him — for one more judgmental side-eye will send me into a rage.

It is strange to hold so much resentment toward my mate, whom my heart sincerely beats for because two different yet equally as forceful emotions mix into a toxic brew. My brain stirs and my feelings boil into something I cannot always discern. Therefore, when I am vulnerable and exhausted and thoughtless, whatever my heart wishes will spill from my tongue. And this is wrong.

My carelessness must be snuffed.

Alexei stands outside of the parted meeting room doors with his travel party. Carden and Larris walk behind me and halt when I halt. Alexei stares at one and then the other as apathetically as I predicted, so I wear the same blank face and tell the brothers, "There is work for you in my study. Finish it and note any issues caused by the storm in the city; I will tend to them later."

This time they do not need to nod before they begin, so I turn my attention to Alexei. "Shall we?"

"Who are they?" He asks with a straight brow.

I shrug. "They're my men. I have plenty, you know. There are men who fight for me, men who build for me, men who rub my feet when they are sore, and those two men — they belong to my council. Will your men be joining us?"

Alexei eases. "Yes, they will. Will Tabitha?"

"No," I improvise, "she is buried deep in her books today."

We enter the meeting room and gather around a table fit for twelve. Portraits litter the wall opposite the windows, and the two candelabrums on the table are lit to replace the daylight lost in wake of the grey cloud cover. Alexei and I sit across from each other while his men cap off the table to my right.

"Well, I'm glad to see you've changed your mind about our agreement," he says as he settles. "I wouldn't want to compose it myself and royally fuck you."

"It seems I'm still struggling with the possibility."

"All of your previously stated conditions will be applied: decisions that regard your people and share will not be made without your clearance, and your title as an Alpha persists."

"What else have you all been drafting then?"

One of his men — the man Tabitha assumed to be uptight — speaks in place of Alexei. "Your agreement will combine mutually beneficial assets such as the armies, natural resources, and territory," he explains. "Each can be discussed respectively."

Before he can continue, I say, "We'll also need to detail rules about our relationship. There is a public image to uphold, but I believe my living here, and your living at your home will work just fine. We can come together for special occasions requiring public appearances, and I think that will suffice."

Alexei's men wait for him to agree or disagree, but instead Alexei asks, "Do you have any other conditions for our bond?"

"I think my General has the right idea when it comes to that; the only changes occur on parchment. There won't be a need for too many conditions if, for the majority of the time, we live our lives as they were before."

"You have been misadvised."

I squint at his statement, unsure of its purpose. "Have I?"

"Your life will not be as it was before — you will feel exactly as you do now if not worse."

"Because of you?"

He corrects, "Because of the bond."

"And my feeling terrible calls for conditions between us? Well, then I do have another condition for our bond, and it's to pretend as though it doesn't exist."

Alexei cocks his head and smirks subtly as if he knows something I don't. My lips downturn and Alexei drops his attention to the map spread before us. I glance at his men but quickly look away.

"All I see is division," Alexei says and points to each of our territories. He then uses his finger to draw an invisible circle encapsulating them together. "We claim the land in between."

I exhale and mutter, "That land would double what we have combined; it would be a threatening move."

"A distraction," one of his men suggests.

"Right, well, we can have a celebration, announce that Brea is pregnant. We'll be public with it and heavily involve the temple."

"And when there is no baby?" I ask Alexei, humoring him.

"We say the child was lost and use the sympathy as further distraction. Meanwhile, the land will be claimed, settlements will be constructed, and we can begin collecting resources. The majority will be in excess, so what we do not need can be sold."

"I cannot do that," I clarify to stop him from plotting. "First of all, women in leadership do not announce pregnancies until the child is born and has survived its first month. For me to announce that I am pregnant and to then lose the pregnancy will brand me, the first Alpha female, as a failure. That is not a reputation I will carry for the rest of my life."

The men glance at one another. "Fair enough," Alexei decides. "But the land is ours. If we do it plainly, we may have to accept the consequences, but the conjoined army should encourage otherwise."

The thought of angering other packs has my thumb subconsciously picking at my other fingers. I don't want a target on my back, not with the God scratching down my spine. "Or," I realize, "we could have a good reason for taking it."

"Do you know of such a reason, Brea?"

My smile comes to me instinctively. "I do. We'll claim the land and construct the most magnificent temple, a true symbol of worship for the Goddess, something that can only be considered selfless."

"Why build a temple there?" He counters.

"Because this land is sacred." I circle it myself with my fingertip. "I saw it in my dreams — when the Goddess walked this land and scarred it with her steps — and the transcendental marks are still there. I can bring you to the site tomorrow so you can see for yourself; it's really quite breathtaking and in need of our preservation."

His men wait for their Alpha again, but Alexei has yet to even twitch their way. "You cannot forge these things."

"It's not a forgery. It's absolutely godly."

"I would rather you tell me what you are up to."

"It's not a scheme, Alexei. Why can you not believe that the Goddess planted this image in my head? Are we not the first Alphas to be bonded to one another? Are we not different?"

"I would be happy to visit the site and return with information if you are uninclined," the vocal man offers his Alpha, and his goddess pendant nearly glints.

Alexei sighs and asks me, "Is there truly something to see?"

"It's due to be the most hallowed ground in the world, I think — holy enough for a priest to kiss the dirt."

"Who else knows of this?"

"Tabitha," I lie. "I told her of my dream and we went there together."

He doesn't seem to budge in his skepticism, so a previously silent man tells him, "Even if the markings are not the Goddess' footprints, we can treat them as though they're such and erect a temple regardless. The people are willing to believe such a claim."

I press my thumb into the underside edge of the table and grind it as I hold.

"Very well," Alexei surrenders, "we'll visit the site tomorrow in hopes of something noteworthy, but, for now, I want to discuss the details of the current clauses." He turns to his most significant man and says, "Karim, you can begin."

~•~

My brow furrows and my jaw locks when I straighten my head on my shoulders. I stretch my arms out against the wall behind me and latch the slightest of edges between bricks. My body lifts, but my legs shake under my skirt like the skinny hands of a beggar desperate to cup a few coins. Once I climb my way up the wall, I reward myself with a much-needed breath and summon my men with a lame, right-handed swipe through the air.

They materialize without hesitation — a command Tabitha would revel in the power of — so I swallow and mumble, "A-A bath, please. Draw it now. And you — Carden — prepare my nightdress and oils and..."

My orders stall as I check the wound still beading with blood at my wrist. "Retrieve my dinner," I conclude with my eyes still distracted. "If anyone tries to speak to you, tell them you are handling urgent matters."

I sit on my bed and patiently remove my top layers of clothing as Larris and Carden fulfill my requests. Alexei and his men may think I'm some mimicking monster by my poor attendance at dinner, but I again find myself unexpectedly trapped in the God's grasp. After all, someone has to leave the Goddess' steps for us to find tomorrow, and as I have recently discovered, it takes a great amount of energy to purchase a sacred landmark.

I stagger in my shift to the dressing table and sit. Carden returns with a platter of delicacies and a cup of water not long after, and he places them before me. I pick something wrapped in a grape leaf from the spread and eat it in one bite. "Brush my hair?" I ask rather than demand.

Carden pulls out the drawer to my left and takes my comb. He removes some stray pins from my head then divides a bundle of hair to brush from end to root. My eyes close, and the memory of my old chambermaid surfaces. Her hands were aged and cold and moved slowly, but she was delicate and mindful not to catch a knot and hurt me. Each night she would finish by kissing the top of my head.

I worry that I am using the God too much — that one night He will become bored with my blood and accept it no longer. Or, perhaps He will finish me off and drag my bloodless body through the ground, into his realm despite the sole owner of my soul.

The hairbrush yanks my head back when Carden finds a stubborn knot. I look at him through the dressing table's mirror and notice the color of his eyes nearly swirling. Larris exits from the washroom, so I take the brush to quickly finish myself.

After my bath, I dress out of sight and return to warmed bed linens. I pull back the blankets and position myself in the center while my two men wait for further guidance. Tabitha's nonsense seeps into my present thoughts, so an impulsive command leaves my lips like a curse: "Undress."

The men finger their shirts and reveal expanding slices of skin. Their naked chests soon wring my gut, and their hands sink to their pants, so I blurt, "Wait. Don't, I—"

My left hand casts downward, and they are immediately consumed. I lower in bed and wait until I'm sure that I am alone then sneak from the bed to blow out the remaining candles. It was a mere lapse in judgment, and I'm better off having saved myself from such complications. Thankfully, sleep overwhelms me as what a bath cannot rejuvenate needs true rest to repair, but my mind satisfies itself with lush dreams.

Some time into the night, the sound of the doors to my bedchamber opening wakes me. I lift my head from my feather pillow and sober at the sight of my mate.

I sit upright to see all of him as my heart thunders. Alexei stands with his hair loose, his chest bare, and the black inkings and scars scattered about his tan skin exposed for my eyes to explore. I saw only glimpses of them yesterday, and my fingers itch to feel. I swallow and clear the hair from my face. "What are you doing?" I ask with a sleep-ridden voice.

He breaks from the doorway and strides into the shadows. The moon offers just enough light through my chamber's windows, and I scramble backward into the carved headboard of my bed when he comes to me.

"Alexei," I insist.

He throws the blankets off of me, casting my furs and linens to the floor. My legs spring to my chest and cross in defense.

"You're mine, Brea," he says and drags me onto my back by my ankle. He climbs over me — my conscience now made mute — and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. "If I wish to have you, I will."

"Y-you can't."

He grabs my thighs and rubs my skin as he pushes up my nightdress. My hips drive into the mattress, but there is no escaping his touch. I squirm and writhe and push at him. He feels the bareness between my legs, and my lips part for breath. My hands grapple at his broad shoulders — my doubt twists into intense desire — but he takes his fingers from me and stares, disenchanted. He glares at my sex then yanks at my upper arm to turn me. I bend, and my back lifts from the bed. He tears my dress to reveal my scar.

It's enflamed — alive on my skin. He forces me down and grabs my jaw roughly. "You've been polluted," he seethes.

My stomach plummets to the depths of my being — my heart crushed by the constricting rope, a snake wringing to kill. I wake at once as my heart splits in two, and my eyes open to the ceiling of my chambers, still black in the night. I lift from my pillow and pant to cure the burn in my chest. The fear of his gaze settles like a sinking stone, and my scar still feels as though it's pulsing with blood.

Goddess, forgive me.







**************************************************
Sorry for the wait! Amid college classes, I am also moving to Canada soon. I really just lost track of time, and before I knew it, it had been a month since I had last updated. Yikes! Still hoping for consistency with updates. 🙏

Also, apologies for any distracting mistakes.


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net