Betrayed by his Luna

Bittersweet

*Madelyn*

I wake up feeling neither relaxed nor rested. After ringing for my maid, who traveled with me from the country, I lie in bed and listen to the occasional clanging activity in the bathing room that separates my bedchamber from Bryant's. I wonder if he knew that Willoughby would see me settled into a room so near his own. I try to guess what he's doing. Bathing, no doubt. Perhaps shaving. Getting dressed for the day.

The last time I heard sounds like these was on my wedding night. My maid had left me alone, and I stood there in my night dress, listening as he prepared to come to me. Tremors of fear rippled through me. We'd never kissed. Our skin had never touched. I couldn't imagine him climbing into bed with me, touching me intimately. It felt wrong, so wrong to have something so personal happen between two people who were virtually strangers.

I start to carry the lamp to the window, to signal Blake, but then stop. It feels equally wrong.

But he isn't terrifying. He is safe and comfortable. If I could gain just one night's reprieve...

So I take the lamp to the window, unlock it, and scurry back to bed.

I lie there, listening to my husband's movements, realizing I have waited too long to summon Blake. I should have acted sooner. Then I hear a sound, the window opening. I come upright. "Blake?"

"Shh." He smiles, his sapphire eyes filled with deviltry that makes him so much fun. He tosses his jacket onto the floor.

I hadn't expected that. "What are you doing?"

"Ensuring that he leaves you alone." He quickly removes his waistcoat and nimbly unbuttons his shirt.

"I thought you were going to talk to him. Explain..." I mumble.

He winks at me. "No, sweetheart. Words will have no effect on my brother tonight." His shoes come off next, and he crawls onto the bed.

"I didn't know this was what you had in mind. I think this is a terrible idea," I say. I start to scramble out from beneath the covers, but he snags an arm around me and draws me down.

"Do you want him to bed you?" he asks.

I look up into a face I have trusted since childhood, into eyes that have promised to hold all my secrets. I've always been able to tell him everything. "No."

"Then trust me. He'll be angry at me, not at you." Blake mumbles.

He tucks me beneath him, half his body covering mine. I can feel his breath wafting over my hair.

"What if this doesn't work?" I ask.

"It will." He promises.

I am not really getting how, "How do you know?"

"Because I know my brother." He grins.

"Tell me about him, then. Help me to know..." I start asking.

The door opens. Very slowly, Blake turns his head to look over his shoulder. "Bryant..."

Before he can even finish addressing his brother, Bryant grabs him, yanks him out of bed, and throws him to the floor.

Seeing the fury in Bryant's dark eyes, I bolt upright, fearful for my own life. What had I expected? Had I thought he would simply look at us and say, ‘Oh, pardon. I'll return later then, shall I?’ He turns away from me. Before Blake can get to his feet, Bryant draws him up and plows his fist into his stomach, causing him to double over and drop to his knees.

"No!" I scream. "Leave him be!"

But he doesn't. He hits him again, sending him crashing into a table. It shatters beneath Blake's weight. Bryant lifts him as though he weighs no more than a pillow and slams his fist into him again.

I scramble out of the bed. "No, please, you're going to kill him!" The door leading into the hallway bangs open.

"That's enough!" a voice of authority rings out from the doorway. Barkley strides into the room. Fearlessly, he storms over to the brawl and shoves away his older brother. "Enough, I said!"

I have always been amazed that despite the fact he is the youngest, he wears a mantle of power. But at that moment, my attention is riveted on Bryant, who is breathing harshly, his large hands balled into massive fists at his side. I see blood on his right hand, and my stomach lurches. Whether it's his blood or Blake's, I can't tell, but either is too much.

"Come along," Barkley says, pulling Blake to his feet, one hand clamped around his arm while he uses his free one to gather up Blake's jacket and waistcoat, as though he thinks by keeping himself near his middle brother, he can protect him from the temper of his older. "Out with you, puppy." Barkley shoves Blake toward the door.

"Dammit, you're my baby brother. I hate when you call me that." Blake growls.

Barkley just push him along, "Then stop behaving like such a dolt."

I can scarcely blame Blake for going so willingly when the devil remains in the room… although I would have found some comfort if he had just glanced back at me. But it's as though the play has come to an end, and he doesn't consider it worthy of applause. I feel abandoned and confused.

"Get dressed," Bryant orders. "We're leaving tonight."

And we did. He packed me into his carriage and took me to the country pack house. Exiled. Unloved. Unhappy.

The bitter truth is that I understand I deserve it all. But surely three years is long enough for me to suffer for the foolishness of youth.

I can no longer hear any sounds coming from the bathing chamber. Is he soaking in the tub? He will smell very different the next time I'm near enough to inhale his fragrance. It will be all masculine, earthy, and rich. I wonder to whom the lilac scent belonged. I don't know why noticing it was like a physical blow. I had known he hadn't honored his vows, or bond, so it should have come as no surprise that he carried the scent of a she-wolf. I had been married all of six months when my cousin Charity visited and wasted no time in informing me of my husband's perfidy.

"It's scandalous, Cousin. He openly flaunts these liaisons. Every week he is seen with a different she-wolf in the park walking, riding, driving her around in his curricle. I myself have seen him kissing a she-wolf behind a tree! And we are not talking a kiss upon the hand or cheek, but upon the mouth. It went on so long that I could scarce believe she didn't faint from lack of air. He's making a fool of you, Madelyn." She had said.

Because I had made a fool of him. I had tried to rationalize, to pretend it didn't hurt, that I didn't care. "It is not uncommon for a man to have an affair."

"Within months of his marriage, and so openly? You must return to London and take him in hand." She said.

Only I had stayed in the country and buried myself in all the matters that had needed tending to there. The estate was in shambles, and I had set about righting it because I didn't know how to do the same with my marriage. Even now, I don't know how to make a go of things with Bryant. I had tried the direct approach, asking for forgiveness, stating that I wished to be a mate. And he had merely mocked me, humiliated me by making me want his touch only to then withhold it. I am so damned lonely… that was the only reason he'd managed to take my breath last night.

I will not seek out the companionship of a man until I have given my mate his heir, and perhaps not even then. Despite the abysmal start to our marriage, I never intended to stray or to see him cuckolded. I only wanted Blake to comfort me. Why can’t Bryant understand that? Why is he so consumed by his anger? Although, in truth, I know any Alpha would be.

A soft rap sounds on my door, then Judith enters the room. She curtsies. “M’lady. Did you sleep well?”

“I didn’t sleep at all,” I say as I throw back the covers and clamber out of bed.

“It’s the residence,” Judith murmurs, glancing around warily. “It’s as cold as a mausoleum. It holds none of the warmth of home.”

I know she isn’t talking about the temperature of the air. It’s the character of the house. The country pack house had been the same when I arrived. Cold and dreary. Somewhere to take shelter from the elements but not the storms of life. I worked diligently to change that, to make it a place where happiness could abide.

I began to cherish my time there, but still, I am haunted by loneliness and regrets. For a moment, I consider accepting the challenge of altering this residence, but what’s the point? I will be here for one mating Season. If that long. I don’t think I can stay when my mate so despises me. But neither can I stand the thought of not helping my sister avoid the lecherous hands of Alpha Hester.

I choose a morning dress of hunter green, which flatters my complexion. If I'm going to battle Bryant again, I'm determined to do it in full armor. It takes me an inordinate amount of time to see to my toilette and I know I'm dawdling, but I can’t seem to help myself.

Well aware of the sounds coming from next door, I know the moment he withdraws from his room. I recognize the tread of his steps in the hallway. Half an hour later, as I make my way down the stairs, part of me hopes he has left for the day, and another part of me wants him to still be there, to see that I am no longer a young girl who is fearful of him.

Even if my stomach quivers at the sight of him sitting at the table in the breakfast dining room. His dark gaze homes in on mine… I feel it almost like a touch… as his chair scrapes across the floor, and he comes to his feet.

I tilt my head slightly. “Good morning, my Alpha.”

“My Luna. I trust you slept well.” His deep voice reverberates off the walls and shimmers through me. I curse my knees for weakening at the alluring smoothness.

“Very well, thank you.” I lie.

Forcing a casualness to my step, I stroll over to the sideboard and begin placing random delicacies on my plate, barely giving any attention to what they are. I am unsettled, the hairs on the nape of my neck prickling as I am acutely aware of him studying me. I want to appear sophisticated, calm. But he still has the power to rattle me.

I walk to the foot of the table and take the seat that the servant holds out for me. Deliberately, with as much of a challenge as I can muster, I lift my eyes to Bryant’s. He is still standing as though not quite certain what to make of me. Finally, he sits down.

He had been reading the newspaper before I had arrived. It rests on the table beside him. I fully expect him to return his attention to it. My father always reads while he enjoys his breakfast. No one ever spoke during meals, so I nearly come out of my skin when Bryant does.

“You must love your sister very much to have risked facing my wrath.” He says.

I make the mistake of trying to appear unaffected by lifting my teacup. The brew sloshes over the sides, revealing the truth of my nervousness. If he notices, he doesn’t react. As I set down the cup and fight to ignore the servant who is quickly replacing it with another, I suppose I could take some solace in the fact Bryant isn’t gloating at my obvious discomfort.

“I love her immensely.” This time when I lift my cup, I am pleased to discover my hand has ceased its trembling. Perhaps the trick is to concentrate on Beth, rather than Bryant.

“As I recall, your father does not come to London for the mating Season. Where did you intend for Beth to reside?” He asks.

I swallow, “With me.”

Across the length of the table, I can see his jaw tighten, his eyes narrow.

“I assure you that you will barely be aware of her presence,” I promise.

“Can you say the same for your own?” He asks.

His question startles me. Avoiding him was not what I had planned. But then he had clearly stated that he no longer wanted me. I am going to have to make the she-wolves understand that I have no control over the man I am mated to or I am going to have to convince him to change his mind regarding me. I am certain that confessing to them would be much less humiliating than trying to seduce my mate.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I state succinctly. At least until I can determine how best to handle this matter.

“Then you may stay. But I want nothing to do with you or your sister.” He huffs.

I shake my head slowly, “You’re a hard man, Bryant. Little wonder I was so terrified of you three years ago.”

“Do not blame me for your actions.” He growls.

“For my actions, no. For my fears, yes.” I say.

His eyes narrow. “I’m giving you leave to stay here. You should be grateful.”

“To stay in a residence my dowry no doubt purchased? Perhaps ‘tis you who should be grateful.” I shoot back.

He comes up out of the chair so fast that I nearly tumble backward in mine. “I am well aware of what I owe you. It’s the only reason you’re still here. Give your sister her damnable mating Season. Spare no expense to find her a mate as quickly as possible; and then I want you gone.”

He strides from the room with the force of a storm. If we are engaged in a war, I suppose I could claim victory over the first battle. But seeing the anger and hatred in his eyes makes it ever so bittersweet.