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  In three large strides, he has moved me aside and taken up all three chains in his large hands.

  A sound at the door turns our heads. It’s one of Father’s messengers, who bows low.

  “The king has requested your presence, Lord Godfrey,” he says.

  “Very well, we shall be along in a moment.”

  “Pardon me, My Lord, but I believe he wishes to see you alone.”

  Damien glares at him. “We shall be along in a moment,” he says again darkly.

  The messenger’s eyes widen before he quickly bows once again. “Yes, of course. As you wish, My Lord.”

  Fastening the chains once again to the wall, Damien takes the key from me before striding to the door. I don’t move.

  Barely turning his head, Damien snaps, “Come.”

  I don’t want to go, but my legs don’t listen and I’m instantly beside him. He extends an arm, and I take it, but my stomach twists as I do, and I hear the leopards start to pace behind me, chains scraping the floor as if they, too, know I shouldn’t go.

  As we step out into the hall, my bedroom door locks behind us. I notice that Damien keeps the key.

  My stomach grows ever tighter and more painful as we make our way to Father.

  Six

  Annalise

  I’m surprised when we find Father moving about his chambers. He looks almost like his old self again. Even his eyes look clearer.

  “Papa,” I say before I remember I’m still furious with him, “how are you feeling?”

  The king turns, seeming surprised to see me, but composes himself as he looks at Damien.

  “Far better, daughter,” he says. “I actually have Damien to thank for that. It seems he has had some fine training in the art of alchemy. He’s given me several potions for various ailments in the past, but I’ve never been quite so ill as in the recent weeks.”

  I glance up at Damien in astonishment, but he doesn’t turn his face to meet mine. He towers over me and I can’t make out the expression on his face from this angle. Perhaps my loathing of the engagement has soured me toward him before I’ve truly given him a chance.

  “It was nothing,” Damien says. “I only wish to serve.”

  He bows deeply, although somehow his bowed self is still taller than me. His hair falls lazily over his face and he sweeps it back as he straightens again.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t mind telling me a little more about the concoction you prepared last night,” Father says.

  “Certainly,” Damien replies, his voice calm and steady. “It’s quite simple really. I merely prepared my own version of St. Paul’s potion but with a touch of magic.”

  “Magic,” the king says with a laugh as he makes his way back to bed. “It has certainly brought me to high spirits, but there’s more I’d like to discuss. I have to admit, I had hoped to discuss something with you that I’d prefer Annalise not to be part of at present.”

  Damien frowns as he looks down at me, and I sense he doesn’t want to let me out of his sight.

  “She’ll stay,” he finally says.

  “Very well, as you wish,” Father says, clearing his throat. “I was hoping to discuss the wedding date with you. Now that I am feeling more like myself, I have had a chance to think more deeply about this union.”

  Damien’s nostrils flare.

  “I accept that it’s rather sentimental,” father continues, “but my late wife had always wished Annalise would someday be married in the vineyards, at the time of harvest. I know we had originally agreed that the wedding would be held within three weeks of your arrival, but would it really be so bad to wait another month or two to wed?”

  I’m frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. Is he really going to give me a little more time before the wedding? Damien lets out a snort but says nothing.

  Father hurries to continue his argument for waiting. “It would give you two more time to get to know each other. Perhaps you may even grow to love each other before the wedding, as I did my own wife.”

  He nearly mumbles the last part. It’s the first time in ten years Father has spoken of Mother of his own accord. I think I understand now why he didn’t want me here in the first place. It puts a great deal of pressure on both of them to make the right decision while I’m here to listen.

  “Besides, there are several important matters I need to attend to, and a wedding would be a bit of a burden at the moment.”

  Ah. There it is. He doesn’t really care about the wedding being pushed off. It’s just not convenient. I wonder how Mother could have ever been happy with this man, if she ever was at all. I gasp in pain.

  Damien’s arm is clenched to his body, nearly crushing mine in the process. The tension in the room is as thick as a poorly made porridge as we wait to hear Damien’s response.

  After what feels like an eternity, he growls, “So be it.”

  I suck in air, unaware that I had stopped breathing.

  “Superb,” the king says with a sigh of relief.

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes. I shall see you at supper then,” Father says, giving me a slight smile.

  I hesitate long enough to be swept from the room before I can think to reciprocate the expression. Damien is hugging my arm so tightly to his hard body that it forces me to move as one with him, which is difficult due to the sheer difference in our sizes, and he ends up dragging me most of the way.

  We turn down a hall I am unfamiliar with and I abruptly find myself thrown up against the wall of a small alcove, my head hitting hard against the stone. I’m sure without the padding of braids beneath my cap my skull would have cracked.

  We’re hidden from view of anyone who might happen to glance down the hall and I am unable to cry out for help. Damien’s body nearly crushes me as he presses himself firmly against me, his arms propped against the wall to either side of me. The terror coursing through my veins mixes unnervingly with the unknown sensation of a man’s body against my own.

  “What did you say to your father?” Damien’s hot breath washes over my face as he slides his body down mine to look me in the eyes.

  “Nothing,” I say, using what little air I can to respond while my head throbs in pain.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Damien rumbles, his black eyes boring into me like holes. “I won’t abide lying, and if I find out you are lying—about anything—you will be severely punished.”

  “I swear it,” I say, gasping for air. “On my mother’s grave, I swear I’m not lying.”

  Damien relaxes and straightens without removing his body from mine, but giving me enough room to allow me to breathe again.

  “I believe you,” Damien says, taking my face in his hand and caressing my cheek with his thumb. My head fits easily into his palm, as if not a man but a bear is holding me.

  I try my best not to move, but all I want is to run.

  “Look at me, Annalise,” Damien says, his finger running gently over my lips. His touch tickles and I shiver uncomfortably. He seems to take it as a sign of pleasure, and a moment later, I feel his other hand against the curve of my hip. I wish I could scream, but my mouth is dry and my heart is in my throat.

  I had always imagined my husband would be kind, a gentleman, and that we’d grow to know each other over time, finally falling madly in love. As beautiful as Damien’s face and body may be, everything else about him feels wrong.

  My breath catches as I feel the hand on my hip slowly begin to glide upward. New sensations wash over me, but they are spoiled by the bile rising in my stomach.

  Damien’s face is close to mine, his black eyes boring into me, and I swear I can feel my soul being eaten alive. I manage to tear my eyes away when he finally blinks, but I can’t help but notice the smile at the edges of his lips. It’s as though he knows I’m afraid and is enjoying it. I remember seeing such a smile on the faces of the sort of boys who like to torture small animals. Wretched beings.

  The hand on my face drops to my neck, and as easily as if I were a do
ll, he uses his thumb to turn my face to the side, revealing my neck to him. I begin to shake. I am unable to move my head, yet all he has pinned me with is a single thumb.

  If only someone would find us, tear him away from me. I am growing ever more afraid that he will spoil me before the wedding, then where will I be? He could easily lie and say it wasn’t him, breaking our betrothal and sending the kingdom into turmoil. I’d be deemed unfit for queendom and banished, whether it be from the castle or to be the mistress of some noble.

  His lips press against my neck, starting just below my jawline, gradually making their way lower. The other hand has stopped, resting just below my breasts as he occupies himself with my neck.

  I gasp as a searing pain spreads across my neck. He bit me! The act sends my previously immobile body into action and one hand flies to my neck as the other shoves against Damien’s chest only to retract in pain as if I had punched a wall. He removes himself from me, but only because he has chosen to do so. I pull my other hand away from my neck. No blood. Well, at least he didn’t break the skin, although I’m sure I feel a mark rising.

  “I certainly hope this isn’t how you plan to behave on our wedding night,” Damien says, clearly annoyed with me.

  “I…” I have no words, but tears well up in my eyes.

  “Stop crying. I’ve only marked you as mine. I was never going to take you here. What’s the fun in that? I prefer a much large space to enjoy myself fully. Besides, I will not take your maidenhood before the wedding…unless you continue to anger me. Think of this as but a taste of what’s to come.”

  He reaches out and I flinch, but his fingers find a loose strand of my hair and tuck it beneath my cap.

  “Come. I am a busy man, I can’t wait around all day for you to stop behaving like a child. You know full well what your purpose is as a woman,” he says as he turns on his heel and makes his way back down the hall.

  I can only begin to imagine what he does with the women he forces into his chambers. I’ve only known him less than a day and he’s already made me cry…and I haven’t been forced to lie with him yet. I raise my hand to my neck as I move to follow him, holding in the tears and allowing the fire of rage burning in my chest to grow. I make a vow.

  I will be the death of this man, and by the gods, I will die before I willingly lie with him.

  Seven

  Ero

  Li won’t stop pacing, and it’s driving me insane.

  “I just know something is going to happen,” Li says.

  “Perhaps, but what can we do? Nothing.”

  “She needs protection, Ero. She needs us. I have to keep her safe. We have to keep her safe,” Li says, his pacing causing the chains to scrape against the floor, sending disagreeable chills down my spine.

  I grit my teeth to keep my calm. “She’s not a child, Li. Annalise can take of herself for now. She has to. I can only imagine how you’d be reacting if Damien had decided to call on you this morning.”

  Li growls and continues to pace.

  Damien seemed especially inclined to call Roan out to get some teasing in this morning with Annalise. I’m sure he lacks so little of his own soul by now—if he still has any— that it’s a miracle he gets by at all without us.

  It was no surprise to me that Roan chose to go into his beast to wait. Better that than stress all day about the part he’s playing in this deadly game. I can’t blame him though. I’ve been fighting the urge to tear myself, quite literally, out of my collar to chase down Annalise. I shake my head at the folly…no, the complete idiocy of the thought. The other women Damien has gone after never had any draw for me. All right, that’s a lie. There were certain desires, but they disappeared after a night in my beast. So either we’re going insane, or Damien has finally found the chosen one.

  I may be the youngest of the flurry, but I’m definitely not the most easily moved. Annalise is lovely, I won’t deny it, but before I was cursed into this mess, I’d had my fair share of women. I mean, come on, females would quite literally throw themselves at me, and now we suddenly get a quick pat and we’re head over heels for the girl? I just can’t accept it. They’re just feelings, forbidden desires, nothing more. There’s a logic to all this madness.

  Love is a fool’s game. That was easy to see after I watched as my father murdered my mother along with the rest of my brothers and sisters. I only managed to escape the madness of my father thanks to my habit of climbing into a hidden space in the rafters to read. Ever since, I’ve never believed in love. Why destroy yourself over love when you can bed a woman without attachment?

  I won’t say that I’ve never felt anything like this for a woman. I’ve felt it plenty of times. But all it takes is a good bedding to get rid of.

  Now, if only I didn’t have that feeling for her. Not now, not when I can’t do anything about it.

  The sound of a whimper startles me and I look over at Li.

  “Did…did you seriously just whine?”

  “You know how Damien is. Every moment she’s alone with him is dangerous. His mood switches as easily as a pendulum.”

  “Are you going to be like this all day?”

  “I’ll never let her out of my sight again.”

  “And how, exactly, are you going to manage that when we can’t even remove our own collars, let alone chains?”

  Li growls, but the sound morphs into a whimper.

  “Damn it, Li. You’re supposed to be the calm one. If you’re bonding this easily, how are Roan and I supposed to handle everything when the bond grows stronger?”

  “You’re right, but there’s something different about this one.”

  “I know, and you’re our greatest defense against the magic. At least, you’re supposed to be.”

  “And for heaven’s sake, Li,” Roan says, startling us both, “stop pacing. My head is killing me!”

  Eight

  Annalise

  Thank the gods Damien was called away for some meeting or other—after he insisted on taking me back to my room first. Now, here I am, curled up on my bed, once again locked in my quarters. The scent of the lavender sprinkled through the bedding fills my nose and reminds me of the previous day. If only the door were locked from the inside.

  My hand still clutches at my neck. I haven’t dared to look in the mirror yet. I’m too scared to see what kind of mark he’s left. I’m still shivering from the experience.

  I’d always thought, least from all the stories I’ve read, that men start by kissing you on the lips. Not with wandering hands and hard bites, and certainly not after being shoved angrily against a stone wall.

  At least the pain in my head has subsided to a dull throb.

  I slowly raise myself into a sitting position. I’ll most likely be called to dinner later, so there’s little sense in undressing. The leopards are watching me. If I’m going insane, they must already be mad with boredom.

  I get up and cross the room to my mirror, finally dropping my hand from my neck to check the damage. A trio of growls rise from the leopards, but I’m too focused on the image in the mirror to tear my eyes away.

  I grit my teeth. It’s true, he didn’t break my skin, but the mark he’s left is perhaps worse. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, except once.

  A memory from my childhood. I’d been running through the kitchens, chasing Rosa as we prepared to go out for the day, when I bumped into the cook. Her hand reached to grab me before I could hit the floor, but I screamed and her hand flew back. I’m embarrassed and ashamed to think of my reaction now, but her hands were covered in deep red burns…exactly matching the mark on my neck now.

  I can’t fathom it. How could he have burned my neck with his teeth? The more I look at the teeth marks, and if I didn’t already know better, I’d think a bear had bitten me. I wonder if I’ll always have this mark or if it’ll fade with time.

  A sound pulls me from my spiraling thoughts, and my eyes finally shift to the leopards. They’re all watching me, but the violet-eyed le
opard is whimpering.

  I walk over until I’m close enough to touch him. As I reach out, I am surprised that he moves his head to meet my hand, nuzzling it gently. I smile for the first time all day. Dropping to the floor, I throw my arms around him as he lets out a low vibrating sound. His hot breath streams across the nape of my neck, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s thinking of eating me, but I feel no fear. Then, his rough tongue is moving carefully across the mark on my neck.

  Instinctually, I want to cry out in pain, but there is no pain. If anything, the burn-like sensation has nearly disappeared and grows fainter with every pass of the leopard’s tongue. A few licks later, he stops and shifts away from me, cocking his head to the side as if he’s examining my neck. Seeming satisfied, he drops his gaze and starts to lick away at the fur on his broad chest, making him look more like an oversized house cat than a wild beast.

  I stand and return to the mirror, curious to see what, if anything, has changed. The mark is still there, but it is no longer a fiery red. It is nearly as white as if it were just an old scar, albeit a very large and obvious one.

  I think the leopards and I are going to get along just fine.

  Nine

  Li

  Son of a…My thought trails off in a growl of anger. That repulsive, vile, idiot of a man. He actually marked her!

  I knew something was wrong when she returned and immediately curled up on her bed, but I couldn’t smell blood, so I thought perhaps he had been wise enough not to touch her. Fool that I am.

  The bite didn’t break her skin, but that doesn’t matter with a mark. It quite literally burns itself on you. Each of us has one as well, though ours weren’t inflicted in quite the manner hers seems to be. I shudder in anger as I try not to imagine how he forced himself on her. It’s clear she didn’t want whatever happened from the red rimming her eyes.