2
1577 Words
“Of course,” I said, my fluttering in my chest as I accepted the hand he offered. He pulled me into an open space, away from the crowd pressed on all sides around us and flattened me against his body.
I grew up sheltered, groomed by my father for the day he would auction me off to the next man who could further his ambitions, so I was unaccustomed to the touch of a man.
I stiffened.
Ryker’s hand moved down my back, slow and sensual. His fingers were devilish little things as they spread across my back, moving further down until they cupped my ass.
He groaned deeply. A sound that reverberated through his chest, made even louder since I was pressed into him with not even an inch between us.
I tried to force my body to accept his touch.
Remembering my father’s threats, I tried to smile. I was supposed to flirt, to say things to Ryker that would make him choose me, but my mind went blank.
If he had asked me my name in my moment, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get a coherent word out, not when my body was pressed so hard against the hard planes of his body.
He noticed. “You don’t say much, do you? I like that,” he said, baritone so deep he must have swallowed a speaker or something. “You are a mystery, Elara. It’s common knowledge that Darius has a daughter, his precious jewel.” He chuckled like he had just told the funniest joke in the world. “He talks about you all the time but keeps you under lock and key.” His fingers spread across my back, caressing boldly. “Now I see why. Although” he pressed his ear close to my ear to whisper, “I hear you slip out your window from time to time. You have a rebellious spirit, don’t you? I like that.”
His closeness and his words caused chills to rise on my flesh for more than one reason.
Putting aside the fact that the man had a voice that was as deep and dark as sin, how did he know about my window?
My father certainly did not know about that! If he ever found out, I would be locked in the basement for the rest of my life.
Darius Nightor has never been the kind of man to let a sin as grievous as that go unpunished.
Was this man Ryker even more dangerous than my father?
I shuddered.
“I – I am obedient,” I whispered, fear clogging my throat. “I swear it. I am obedient, and I will be obedient to you.”
“Yes, I have also heard that you can be a very obedient wolf. I like that too,” he drawled. His hands squeezed my ass. “This is a very interesting dress. This light is a bit too harsh, don’t you think? Why don’t you and I go somewhere more – private,” he whispered hotly. “So that I can see it better?”
I stifled yet another shudder. This was supposed to be the highlight of the night, the moment when I showed Ryker my – I tried not to vomit as I thought about it – my goods, as my father liked to call them.
I had prepared for this, trained for this night and day and yet I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t accept his offer. I couldn’t step back, take his hand and let him lead me away.
My chest tightened, it was getting even harder to breathe, and it didn’t help that my bodice was so tight that my chest couldn’t expand properly, so that I could breathe.
The room started to spin.
Instead of letting Ryker walk me through the crowd, I pulled back. Or tried to anyway, but his fingers circled my wrist. “What you think you’re doing, my little spice?”
The nickname didn’t even register.
“I – I need some a-air,” I stuttered.
“Why? Worried about your lover? Are you trying to sneak off to meet one of them?”
“My what?” I intoned, sure that I had heard him wrong.
Maybe I was hallucinating. Perhaps my lack of oxygen had caused my brain to go dull because there is no way he just accused me of having a lover.
“Your lovers,” his voice had turned hard, and his smile so cold that it froze me to my bones. “I know all about you, little spice. Elara Nightor. I know what you’ve been up to. If I know about your little escapes out of your window, do you think I’m so stupid that I wouldn’t know what you get up to at night and what your father wants from me?”
At night? I thought dumbly.
I only left my bedroom window to sit on my roof while trying to pretend that I was free. I pretended that I didn’t have to go back to my prison, to a father who only saw me as a tool. I pretended that I was as free as the moon as I let the light bathe me.
“My – my father wants us to marry…” I whispered as my mind whirled. The situation was not at all what I had imagined or hoped. I had hoped for a husband who would represent freedom. Part of me had hoped that even though I was just being married off to yet another monster, Ryker would be my hero, maybe even a true mate, someone who would love, heal me, free me, maybe even … I knew this was a long stretch, but I hoped that he would see me as an equal.
Another part of me, the part that had hoped that he was an old man with a foot in the grave, also hoped that he would see me as nothing more than a pound of flesh whom he would f**k at night and ignore during the rest of the day, and I would finally be able to roam and have some freedom.
But this? I had no idea where his accusation was coming from or where it was going. But it didn’t seem good.
“I – I …” I tried to explain.
This explained the angry look in his eyes when he first looked at me.
“You are disgusting,” he snarled. Before I could even defend myself, he pushed me.
I tripped, trying unsuccessfully to catch my balance. I fell to the floor, hitting the ground painfully.
My dress ripped open.
Cold air touched my chest as my breasts threatened to fall out now that they were free. I wrapped one arm around myself to hide while frantically trying to pull the fabric to cover myself.
People around us began to laugh.
Through the tears burning in my eyes, I saw a familiar female walk over to Ryker. She threaded her arm through his, her eyes glistening maliciously at me.
“Look at you,” Ryker snarled. “All dressed like a slut. Your father dresses you like a slut because that is all you are. Most wolves think with their d***s. I am not most men, little spice. I’m looking for a queen, not a w***e. I can take a w***e to bed anytime, but to marry one? That would be over my dead body. Nobody will ever want you, Elara. Certainly not someone like me.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl beside him.
My cousin.
We had only met a handful of times, but she always acted like my friend. Like a sister.
Now she stood at Ryker’s side, watching me with a cold expression that chilled my blood.
“You can crawl home on your w***e knees and tell your father that I have chosen my wife. I, Ryker Thorne of the Bloodmoon Sovereign pack, reject you, Elara Nightor,” he growled with a cold smile as he turned. “I choose a woman of real substance and a strong wolf: Kayla Blackmoor.”
Everyone began to clap.
They clapped for them, and they laughed at me.
I struggled to get off the floor, holding my dress together as tightly as possible.
I ran out of the ballroom, blinded by tears and anger and mystery and sorrow. My heels broke before I could make it out of the hotel. Everywhere I looked, people were whispering and pointing. I was the disgrace, the embarrassment.
The biggest thing that happened since a dancing elephant came to town.
This was supposed to be my night of freedom. The moment when I would finally be free from my father. Instead, I became a laughingstock.
And my father?
I cringed inwardly when I thought about what punishment awaited me when I got home.
He would kill me.
Whimpering, I turned and raced into the gardens. The hotel was named for its famous black rose garden, Jardin Noir.
I slipped into it.
Someone yelled, and before I knew it, I tripped and fell, rolling over. Above me, a group of men snared as they closed in on me.
“Looky looky,” one of them said, singsong – like. “What do we have here? Oh look, baby, you are already half – dressed for us.”
- Writer
