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  I pull the cap and pins from my head and toss them on the floor, releasing my hair from its braids. My hair cascades down my back and relief floods over me. I run my hands through my hair and my scalp tingles with pleasure. I tug at the laces of my dress and quickly slip the gown down over my shoulders, just managing to grab the slip of paper Rosa gave me before allowing the silken material to glide to the floor. I step out of it and walk to my wardrobe. The cool evening air sends shivers over me as I pull out a nightgown and slip it over my head before turning back to the leopards.

  Sapphire eyes and emerald eyes are watching me in a way I’d be ashamed of if they weren’t beasts. The amethyst-eyed leopard has turned his back to me and almost sounds like he is grumbling.

  Something about their eyes tugs once again at the back of my mind. This time I am able to hold onto the thought for a moment before it is pulled away once again. Their eyes are eerily similar to Damien’s whenever his mood changes for the better. I can’t understand it, but then again, I can’t understand anything that’s been going on these days.

  I step among the leopards, and they welcome me. One moves to allow me to lean against his soft side while another curls up beside me.

  A few minutes of silence pass, and I begin to stroke the blue-eyed leopard’s head as he lays it in my lap. He’s making the odd vibrating purr I’ve heard before. I open my other hand to reveal the slip of paper, re-reading the words again and again.

  It doesn’t take long for me to drift off, the soothing words and the sounds of the leopards finally lulling me to sleep as I lie tucked among their warm, soft bodies.

  Here, I feel safe.

  That night I once again dream that the leopards are not beasts, but men. The most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Far outshining Damien’s dark beauty. Their bodies are hard and powerful and even more massive than my betrothed.

  I dream that I am resting among them, my head propped against the broad, smooth chest of a man whose long black hair, unlike Damien’s black tresses, shines in the moonlight. He plays gently with my hair as I watch him. His features strong and masculine, golden skin rippling as the muscles below shift with each movement. The man’s eyes open and he looks down at me. His almond-shaped eyes glitter like amethysts in sunlight.

  My eyes shift as I feel movement in my lap and I am met with sapphire eyes peering up at me through strands of brilliant white blond hair strewn across his face. His skin is almost as white as his hair, his muscled torso just as gloriously shaped as the others.

  I turn my eyes to the third, lying beside me, his head propped up as he grins mischievously at me. His red hair twists and turns messily every which way from his head, not detracting at all from his beauty. His emerald eyes flash, making the freckles on his face and muscular body stand out even more.

  My body sings for them, and as my eyes follow the curves of their bodies, I suddenly realize they’re stark naked and I freeze. My eyes wander lower in curiosity and desire.

  But, before my eyes can find their marks, I’m asleep, but my body aches for them.

  Grey light is pouring through my windows as I open my eyes to see a key turning in the lock. I am more than a little unwilling to have been pulled from my dream, though exceedingly embarrassed to think that I had personified my pets in the way that I had.

  Miriam rushes to my side and pulls me to my feet. Her face is swollen, a nasty bruise forming around her eye. Taking a dress from my wardrobe she quickly dresses me in it. The fabric is much thicker, though no less ornate than the day before. Miriam makes quick work of my hair, though she slows considerably when it comes time to pin my cap in place. As she finishes, she takes my dress from the night before and removes herself from my room as quickly as she had come. The door is once again shut and locked behind her.

  I sigh as I realize this is what I have to look forward to every day, rushed to dress at first morning’s light only to then wait for my betrothed to release me from my prison. I tuck the slip of paper still in my hand from the night before between my breasts as I resign myself to waiting.

  A scraping at my door suddenly draws my attention and I tense as I hear a key turn in the lock. The door swings open. It’s Father’s messenger.

  “My Lady, please, hurry,” he says, his breath catching. “The king has requested you in his chambers. I fear something might be wrong.”

  In an instant, I’m bolting down the halls as fast as my skirts will let me, heading toward Father’s wing. I am unsure if the rising pit in my stomach is worry for his health or dread over what might come of me if he takes a turn for the worse.

  Reaching the doors to the king’s chambers, I fling them open without waiting for the guards to announce me.

  Father is lying in bed, his eyes closed. He doesn’t move a muscle even as I burst through the doors.

  He’s dead. The thought cycles through my mind.

  “I’m not dead,” he says, still unmoving, as though he had read my mind.

  I let out a small sigh of relief and hurry to his side.

  “But I wish I was.”

  The words stop me in my tracks and I take a good look at him. He has sweat through his heavy quilts, his face slick with moisture. He takes a breath, but struggles as the air catches in his throat, causing him to cough up blood onto his chest. He doesn’t move to clean it, and for the first time, I realize we’re completely and utterly alone. No one has rushed to his side, and my betrothed is nowhere in sight.

  This is my chance. I take a deep breath.

  “I won’t marry Lord Godfrey,” I say. “He is a vile, cruel beast of a man and I will not be coerced into giving my life to him.”

  Father opens his eyes and looks at me for the first time since I entered the room.

  “Father, please, listen to me. He hit my chambermaid,” I say my face growing hot. “And I’m afraid he will take me before I am wed.”

  “Baseless accusations. You must put aside your childish ideas of love and understand your duty,” the king says, coughing up more blood. “You’ve been blinded by your own feelings. Besides, you should feel lucky that he wants you at all; you’ve grown up far too temperamental and headstrong. You will marry him and that is final.”

  I can feel rage boiling my blood. How can this man call himself my father? He has completely disregarded everything I’ve said, believing Damien over his own heir. How can he not see the evil right before his eyes?

  “I’ll die before I marry him,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “You will do no such thing,” Father says sharply, closing his eyes once again. “I only called you here to…No. Sit. We will await Lord Godfrey.”

  The silence in the room is unbearable. I am at the edge of my patience when the doors are opened behind me and in steps Damien.

  “Ah, Damien, just the man I wanted to speak to,” the king says weakly.

  “Your Majesty,” Damien says, bowing low, his eyes shifting toward me. “I certainly hope my betrothed has been bothering you in this state.”

  “She is concerned,” Father says, startling me.

  I hadn’t expected him to repeat anything I’d said to Damien, but here he is, revealing my secret thoughts! Is there no one I can trust?

  “It seems there was a mishap with one of the chambermaids and she claims you struck the woman. I have assured her it was out of good reason, but you must understand she is a delicate creature and small things upset her,” the king continues.

  This last statement forces me to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out. If only he knew how strong I was mentally, if not physically.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” Damien says, his voice a low growl. “Ask the maid if that would ease your mind. In any case, I’ll be sure she doesn’t bother you any further with emotional nonsense.”

  “No need,” Father says, feebly waving a hand. “The real reason I called you both here is perhaps obvious. No matter the concoction, it seems fate would have me leave this world. I know this goes against what I said before,
but I would like to see the wedding take place a fortnight from now. The physician sees no reason why I shan’t make it another month, but I would rather not risk it.”

  Damien’s face brightens, his perfect mouth turning into a smile that sends fear shivering through me.

  “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he says.

  “No! Papa!” I say simultaneously.

  “Keep your betrothed in check, Damien,” Father says, wounding me to my core.

  “Of course,” Damien says as he grabs my upper arm and drags me from the room.

  I try to scream out once more, but he yanks me from the floor, pinning my arms against my sides as he tucks me into the crook of one arm, his other hand clamping down over my mouth as we step through the doors.

  “Oh, Damien,” Father calls from the room weakly, looking after us. “Would you please make me some more of the potion? I seem to be running out.”

  Damien bows himself in recognition of the request, tipping me forward in the process, and the king shuts his eyes once more. I see the small piece of paper slip from my bosom and float to the floor. I pray to Heaven that Damien doesn’t notice it, but I have no such luck. He snatches it from the floor and turns, storming from the room.

  Anger burns on his face as the guards close the doors behind us.

  Damien throws me on my bed, his face bent in fury. In just a few quick steps, he’s shoved the guards out of my room, slamming and locking the door even as they protest. Even the guards can’t protect me now. He doesn’t turn back to face me. Not right away.

  I watch, rage mixing with terror as I realize the danger of the present situation and my own lack of physical strength. The leopards must sense it too, as they’ve begun pacing against the far wall, their collars digging into them as they strain against their leashes.

  Damien runs a hand through his hair, then slowly turns to face me.

  “Remove your dress,” he says icily.

  “What?” I breathe, unsure I’ve heard him correctly.

  He takes a lumbering step toward me that sends my hands searching for the dress’s laces.

  “Never make me repeat myself,” he growls at me, watching as my fingers try and fail to find a way out of the dress.

  “Useless,” he says closing the distance between us. He grabs my ankle and yanks me to the edge of the bed as if I were a child’s plaything. The next moment, he’s on top of me, straddling my hips, my arms once again pinned to my side, this time by his massive legs.

  The leopards are growling, but Damien’s enormous body is blocking my view of them now. His fingers force themselves into the neckline of my dress before he pauses, contemplating his next move. His breath calms as he seems to realize what he’s about to do.

  “Who gave you that note?” he asks, looking me in the eye.

  “I…I…” I can’t get the words out. I won’t betray my only friend in the world, but I am at a loss for what to say next.

  “Now, tell me this instant,” Damien says, his voice chilling me to my soul, his black eyes boring into me.

  Without telling my mouth to move, I blurt out the first name that comes to mind, “Luca.”

  I’m thankful it isn’t Rosa’s, but I am instantly filled with fear for my other childhood friend.

  “Luca,” Damien says, the name leaving his mouth as if it were poison. “A man, I presume.”

  “Y…yes,” I stammer, although I fight hard against the words pressing against my lips, once again unsure why I’m responding to his questions.

  His face hardens and he looks me directly in the eye as he begins slowly tearing my dress down the middle from top to bottom. The ease with which he rips the fabric apart makes it seem as though I had been wearing nothing but parchment paper. Removing himself from the bed, he wrenches the rest of the dress from beneath me, tossing it to the floor. I instinctively curl into a ball, my shift all that separates me from the man towering over me.

  His devilish face twists into a smile as he sees me start to shake. I’m not shaking out of fear, but an intensifying rage.

  “You bastard,” I scream at him, surprising us both.

  Instead of becoming angry, Damien’s excitement seems to grow. His hand shifts the awkward crotch of his pants. I swear he is wearing an even bigger codpiece—such an odd word—every day. The thought makes me laugh.

  I’m mortified inside, but I can’t stop laughing. The more I look, and the more I think about it, the more I have to wonder how much Damien uses codpieces to make up for what he most likely lacks in endowment between the legs. My laughter grows more intense, and I am nearly unable to breathe as I finally look up into Damien’s face.

  His smile is gone. His face is completely devoid of emotion, and I can see my reaction has taken him completely by surprise. His jaw tightens, and I see the veins in his temple begin to protrude, but I cannot stop myself from laughing.

  Lass, stop.

  Tíng.

  Hætta!

  A series of thoughts race quietly through my head, the voices masculine and heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

  I’m taken aback.

  I’ve gone crazy. I’ve finally snapped, I can’t help but think to myself as my laughter dies away.

  I’m snatched from my bed by a bear-like hand, the material of my shift gathered tightly around my neck as I’m lifted into the air. Damien is a giant, but I hadn’t realized just how much of a giant until now, as my legs dangle in the air. He holds me in the air by the strength of a single arm, our faces but a hair-width away.

  “Never,” Damien finally says in a voice so low and quiet, it’s as if death himself were in front of me. “Never insult me like that again. Do so, and I will tear you asunder in ways your innocent mind cannot even imagine.”

  I’m quiet, but not out of the fear I’d imagined. Instead, I feel an incredible sense of power coursing through my veins. With a single laugh, I’ve managed to hurt the monster’s pride mayhap more than anyone ever has.

  He seems to take my silence as acceptance, instead of the result of a lack of air as his grip tightens the material around my neck, and tosses me back onto the bed. A long moment of silence passes as I sit up, gasping for air, the neckline of my shift stretched out past the point of usefulness as it dangles precariously to one side. My shoulder is completely bare to the world, the material now barely covering my breast.

  Damien leans down, placing his arms on either side of me as his raven-like eyes penetrate my soul. A sharp pain shoots through me.

  Without removing his gaze, his left hand moves to touch me. His fingers lightly trace my clavicle, my shoulder, and then move slowly down my chest, stopping just short of the material of my shift.

  He lets out a breath of cool air, far colder than any human should be able to produce. The iciness peaks my breasts, giving shape to the flesh beneath my shift. Only then does Damien lower his eyes from mine, and I wrap my arms around myself, unwilling to satiate his wicked behavior any further.

  “No matter,” he says, removing himself from my bed. “I shall have you soon enough.”

  He returns to the door and unlocks it. Several guards peer inside but make no move to check on me. It dawns on me that the guards are not there to protect me after all, but to keep me prisoner…at least until I am wed.

  Snapping his fingers, one of the guards stands to attention. Damien turns to look at me as the next words leave his mouth.

  “Bring Luca to my chambers. I have a matter of utmost importance to deal with.”

  “No,” I gasp, the word silent to all but me.

  “Oh,” he continues, “and once I am finished with him, bring the red-headed wench to me from the night before. My betrothed has whetted my appetite for something a bit more…alive tonight.”

  “No, please, no,” I yell, struggling to leap from my bed.

  The way he says “betrothed” makes my stomach twist in agony, as though he wants me to know that whatever happens tonight is my doing.

  “See that dinner is brought to her,�
�� he says with a dismissive wave of his hand toward me as he sweeps from the room, closing and locking the door just as I slam myself against it, beating at the door with my fists.

  “No…please…gods…no…” I say as I sink to the floor, hot tears spilling down over my cheeks.

  Thirteen

  Li

  I can’t bear to see Annalise like this. It was hard enough not being able to tear the throat out of Damien earlier. She hasn’t moved from the door, and I’m growing anxious with my inability to comfort her. I let out a low rumble, hoping the noise will draw her attention, but it doesn’t.

  There’s a shout from outside, and Annalise leaps up and over to a window faster than a deer in flight. I watch her for a moment before I feel links forming in my mind. It’s Ero and Roan.

  “We need to be more careful,” Roan says, his voice nothing like his usual cheery self. “We can’t link our minds with hers. I’m sure you all felt the same drain.”

  “Yes, and I’m starting to worry that none of us will be able to control the bond,” Ero says in annoyance. “You most of all Li. You’re our strongest defense. As long as you and Annalise don’t bond, we should be able to keep her safe.”

  I growl, knowing full well they’re right. As the leader, and having spent the longest time cursed, I bear the brunt of the spell’s weight, which means any bond I create will be many times more powerful than the others. But, it also means resisting a bond is that much harder. The closer we allow ourselves to get to her, the more threatening Damien seems to grow in his abilities. I’m starting to worry she really is the final piece he has needed to complete the spell.

  “I know,” I finally answer, my heart cracking as I realize what I must do. “I need to make her despise me…even more than she does Damien.”

  Fourteen

  Annalise

  I lean out the window to see what’s happening down in one of the garden courtyards below. It’s Damien, followed closely by a number of his own guards. He’s pulling something that’s just out of my line of sight. I gasp. It’s Luca, or at least I think it’s him.