Chapter 8: On Her Knees
1306 Words
Rain had left the Roarke assembly courtyard slick beneath the lights.
Vespera Morcant stood under the portico with one hand locked around the stone railing. The doors behind Tavian Roarke remained open. Music had stopped inside the hall.
People were listening.
The two guards on the steps kept their eyes ahead. One was young enough that Vespera remembered approving his winter uniform allowance. The other had escorted the six border drivers home the day before.
Neither moved.
Tavian stood between Vespera and the hall.
“Come inside,” he said.
“No.”
The word did not rise above the rain ticking from the roof.
Tavian glanced over his shoulder. Mirelle Dacre remained at the front table, silver ribbon across her shoulder and Vespera’s old chair beneath her.
“This is not about Mirelle.”
“It stopped being about her when you used your rank.”
“I have not used anything.”
“You warned me you would.”
His jaw shifted. “I asked you not to turn a seating decision into a public insult.”
“You removed your provisional mate from your side before the claim was dissolved. Then you placed another woman there wearing an Omega companion ribbon.”
“The ribbon means she is protected.”
“By you.”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Pain pulled low through Vespera’s abdomen. She adjusted her grip on the railing before her knees could weaken for a reason Tavian might mistake.
Sable Wythe reached the portico. She carried Vespera’s coat over one arm.
“She’s leaving,” Sable said.
“The registrar needs her verification.”
“The registrar can follow us.”
Tavian looked toward the hall.
The registrar’s representative stood just inside the entrance holding the document case. Beside him, Garran Roarke watched without approaching.
Vespera held out her hand. “Give me the papers.”
The representative looked at Tavian.
That was answer enough.
“You called me here to verify the ring,” Vespera said. “I returned it. Write that down.”
Tavian’s voice stayed controlled. “We will finish this after the gathering.”
“No.”
“You are not well enough for another argument.”
“I am well enough to leave one.”
She released the railing and stepped toward the stairs.
Tavian moved into her path.
The young guard looked down.
Vespera stopped. “Move.”
“This is my territory.”
“And that is a public road.”
“You are still under a Roarke claim.”
“One I am ending.”
“Not tonight.”
She tried to pass him.
His hand closed around her upper arm. Not hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to stop her.
The provisional mark reacted.
Heat spread from the faded bite beneath her collarbone, down her ribs, and into muscles already strained by blood loss. Her body leaned toward his hold before she pulled back.
Sable caught Tavian’s wrist.
“If you make her bleed again,” she said, “I will document who caused it.”
Tavian released Vespera.
His gaze dropped to Sable’s hand, then returned to Vespera. “Go inside and sit until the registrar finishes.”
“No.”
The border guard on the left turned his head slightly. Inside the hall, someone pulled one of the doors wider.
There would be no private version of this tomorrow.
Tavian’s scent spread across the portico. Several people inside lowered their eyes. The young guard’s shoulders tightened.
Vespera’s pulse answered against the mark.
For four years, Tavian had rarely used Command Voice on her. He had called her name with a thread of rank when danger was close. He had told her to stop once when she walked into a fight between two Alphas. Her body had obeyed before she could choose, and afterward he had apologized.
He had never used it to win an argument.
She looked beyond him.
Mirelle sat with both hands folded on the table. The silver ribbon covered the irritated mark at her throat. Vespera’s chair placed her close enough to Tavian’s empty seat that their sleeves would touch when he returned.
“Is this what you wanted?” Tavian asked.
Vespera looked back at him. “You arranged it.”
“I arranged a gathering. You arrived determined to refuse everything.”
“I refused the chair you gave me.”
“You returned the ring.”
“Yes.”
His voice roughened. “Then why do you care where Mirelle sits?”
“Because you moved me before the registrar did.”
“You moved yourself when you left our room.”
“That was after you brought her home with you.”
“She is in the east suite.”
“She is in the place beside you.”
The words reached the hall.
Mirelle rose from the chair.
Garran said something to her that Vespera could not hear. Mirelle stopped, then remained standing.
Tavian followed Vespera’s gaze. “She offered to move.”
“And you told her no.”
“Because I will not reward a scene.”
Vespera almost laughed. The sound would have hurt, so she did not.
Sable held out the coat. “Vespera.”
She took it.
The movement made the courtyard tilt. Sable reached for her, but Vespera put on the coat without help. One sleeve caught at her wrist. She worked it free.
Tavian watched.
“You can barely stand.”
“Then stop preventing me from reaching the car.”
“I’ll drive you home after the opening address.”
“I am already at the home you chose.”
His expression tightened.
Vespera went down one step.
Tavian caught the portico rail, blocking her path without touching her.
“Return to the hall.”
“No.”
Alpha pressure hit harder.
Her fingers went numb inside the coat sleeves. The muscles at the backs of her legs tightened. She locked her knees.
Sable stepped beside her. “Tavian, stop.”
He looked at the open hall, the watching registrar, Garran near the head table, and Mirelle standing behind Vespera’s missing chair.
When his attention returned to Vespera, rank settled through his voice.
“Apologize for disrupting the gathering.”
Vespera stared at him.
“To whom?”
“Mirelle. The guests. The pack.”
“No.”
“You accused her publicly.”
“I named what she was wearing.”
“You humiliated her.”
“She is still sitting beside you.”
“She stood up because you made her uncomfortable.”
Vespera looked into the hall again. Mirelle had lowered herself back into the chair.
“No,” Vespera said. “She is sitting.”
Tavian’s face changed.
Sable moved closer. “Let her go.”
“She cannot undermine me in front of the pack and walk away.”
“Watch me,” Vespera said.
She stepped down.
Tavian spoke behind her.
“Kneel.”
Command Voice entered through the mark.
There was no time to resist it.
Her legs folded.
One knee struck the wet stone. The second followed hard enough to send pain through her hips and abdomen. Her hand missed the railing and landed in rainwater.
Sable caught her shoulder before she pitched forward.
The young guard flinched.
The older one turned fully toward Tavian.
Inside the hall, no one spoke.
Vespera breathed through her teeth. The Command held her body in position, spine bent and knees pressed against the cold courtyard step.
Tavian came down one stair.
His shoes stopped in front of her.
“I told you not to make me order you,” he said.
Rainwater soaked through the knees of Vespera’s trousers.
She lifted her head.
Beyond him, through the open doors, Mirelle sat in Vespera’s chair.
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