Reborn to Reign

Chapter 4: His Secret Toy

Pandora's POV

I did not walk straight to the washhouse. I slipped into the narrow, dark servant hall behind the wall, my soft shoes making no sound on the floor. My left hand felt like it was sitting on burning wood. Big, painful blisters were swelling up across my knuckles and wrist. Every time my cloth sleeve touched the burned skin, a sharp jolt of pain shot up my whole arm.

Breathe, I told myself, biting my bloody lip. Just keep walking. I needed to get to the small side room near the back stairs to find some ointment for my burn. The hallway was completely dark. I moved fast, holding the wet dress against my chest. Suddenly, a big, strong arm reached out from the dark.

A heavy hand clamped hard over my mouth, stopping my breath. Another strong arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me off my feet and pulling me behind a thick wall curtain. I dropped the wet silk dress. My body went stiff, ready to fight. Then his scent hit my nose.

Fresh pine wood, cold mountain air, and clean leather. A sudden, hot feeling rushed down my back. It was not fear. It was the mate bond.

That awful, glowing thread connecting my soul to his suddenly woke up, sending a shock of heat through my blood. My skin felt warm everywhere his body touched mine. My body wanted to lean into him, even while my mind hated him with everything I had.

"Be quiet, little bird," a smooth voice whispered in my ear.

Bastian. He was early. He slowly took his hand off my mouth, but he kept his heavy arm pressed against my ribs, trapping me against the cold wall.

In the faint light coming through the curtain, his face looked very handsome. He had sharp cheekbones, clear gray eyes, and messy blond hair. He wore dusty black riding clothes with the silver wolf badge of the Alpha's family on his chest.

"You are shaking," he whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

"Let go of me, Bastian," I said in a cold, flat voice.

"Is that how you talk to your mate?" He smiled, his gray eyes looking hungry. His hand moved down and squeezed my hip hard enough to hurt. "I rode all night from the main city from training. I did not even wash the road dirt off before sneaking down here to find you."

"Your bride is waiting up on the third floor," I said, looking at the silver buttons on his shirt. "Go give her the stone earrings you sent."

Bastian let out a quiet laugh. He reached up and ran his fingers down my bruised cheek.

"Aurelia is for the pack, Pandora. You know that." His fingers stopped at the corner of my mouth, wiping away some of the blood. He frowned a little. "Silas hit you again."

"I was clumsy with the tea."

"You need to be smarter, little bird," he sighed, sounding more annoyed than worried. "If you keep making trouble, my father will see you. If you get noticed by him, he will have your head cut off and put on a stick at the front gate."

"Then let him," I whispered.

Bastian's hand squeezed my hip much harder. The mate bond pulled at my chest, trying to make my body give up. It tried to make me lean against his chest and ask him to protect me. I hated it. I hated every single bit of this mate bond.

Why would the Moon Goddess tie me to a coward who treated me like a dirty secret? A man who touched me in dark corners while planning to make my sister his public mate?

"Stop talking nonsense," Bastian growled, leaning close until his face was right in front of mine. "You belong to me, Pandora. In two weeks, after the Grand Pack Gathering, my father will officially name me the Alpha. Aurelia will be my public mate for the people, but you..."

He grabbed my chin tightly, forcing me to look up into his arrogant gray eyes.

"You will have private rooms down in the packhouse cellar. Nice rooms, safe, and completely hidden from the rest of the pack. You will never have to scrub another floor in your life. You will just wait for me in the dark."

A locked animal in the basement, I thought, feeling sick to my stomach. A secret toy for a liar.

"How nice of you, Bastian," I said in a cold voice.

Bastian smiled, looking happy with himself, and leaned down to kiss my mouth. I did not pull away—fighting him only made him rougher—but as his lips touched my skin, his hand moved down and grabbed my left wrist. His thumb pressed right into the fresh, painful blisters on the back of my hand. The thin, burned skin tore open under his weight.

A loud scream tore out of my throat. I could not stop myself from pulling back hard, holding my hurt arm against my chest as my vision went dark from the pain. Bastian pulled back with an angry look. He looked down at his thumb, then down at my burned hand. The skin was raw, red, and leaking clear fluid from the hot water.

A look of disgust crossed his face.

"You really are a mess today," he grumbled, wiping his wet thumb on his leather pants like I had dirtied him. "Go get that cleaned up. I do not want to look at disgusting blisters when I come down to see you tonight."

"Yes, Bastian."

He tapped my cheek with two fingers—like I was a dog—and walked out from behind the curtain, disappearing down the hall. I stood alone in the dark hallway for a long time. I did not cry. Instead, I pulled up my rough apron and scrubbed my mouth and cheek where he had touched me, rubbing the skin until it hurt. Two weeks, he had said. After the gathering.

I did not have two weeks. I did not even have two days. I picked up the wet green silk dress with my good hand and ran down the stairs, heading straight for the washhouse under the packhouse. The washhouse was empty.

The other servants were upstairs getting the big feast ready for tonight. The only sound in the big stone room was the steady drip, drip, drip of water from the ceiling and the cold wind blowing through the high iron vents. I threw the stained green dress onto a wooden wash table. First, I had to fix my hand.

I pushed my arm deep into a wooden bucket of cold rainwater. The freezing water made me gasp, but after a few seconds, the burning pain settled down into a dull ache. I pulled my hand out, reached into a small hole in the stone wall behind the water heater, and grabbed my small tin of ointment I had stolen mixed with mint leaves. Using my teeth and my good right hand, I rubbed a thick layer over the open blisters. Then I tore a strip of clean cloth from an extra apron and wrapped it tight around my hand and wrist.

It looked messy, and it hurt every time I moved my fingers, but it would hold together. Next, I checked my hidden things. I dropped to my knees on the cold dirt floor at the very back of the washhouse. I reached my arm deep into the small space between two giant wall stones, feeling around in the dark until my fingers touched the rough cloth bundle. The bundle was still there.

I was supposed to run away tomorrow night, during the busiest part of the Winter Gala when everyone was drunk on sweet wine. No one would notice me. I started pushing the bundle back into the stone hole. Then, a sudden noise made my blood run cold.

Clank. Clank. Clank. Heavy iron boots were marching across the frozen ground in the yard right above my head. It was not just two guards on a normal walk. It was a whole squad of men.