Tapestries of the covens lineage hung from the dark stone walls in each house’s colors. Her own hung proud in emerald green and gold next to the Sinclair’s ruby and white. Rose’s eyes lingered on the Bloodworth’s in purple and black and the Barclay’s in teal and silver.
The covens should have chosen Lorelei in Dahlia’s place. Not me.
Exasperated, Rose rounded the corner, stopping before the stairwell. She leaned on the railing, crossing her forearms and looked at the ambient light below. Her breaths came in slow, shallow huffs and her heart hammered against her chest. Voices rose up in the adjacent hallway, growing louder as they approached.
“What the bloody hell do you want done?” Declan shouted, throwing his hands in the air. He had a wild, disheveled look about him. His face twisted with anger. Gavin and Oliver followed closely behind him. The young prince halted as he spotted Rose standing next to the railing. His body language shifted, anger fleeing from his features. Declan’s lips curled into a grin, exposing his pearly white fangs. The smell of lust and blood emanated from the princeling as his eyes narrowed to her.
“Hello there,” the young prince crooned, taking a step toward Rose. He turned back to his brother and said, “If you don’t want her, I’ll certainly have a go.” Anger bubbled within Rose. He was talking about her like a goddessdamned cut of meat! Rose’s heart beat a little faster as the blood in her veins ran red-hot. Magic tingled at her fingertips, bidding to be set free.
“You disgusting little twat!” Rose snarled, whirling to face Declan. “You think that being a prince has granted you the right to speak to me that way? Didn’t your parents teach you respect? Didn’t they teach you the proper way to speak to a lady or at least in the presence of one?” Ollie shifted in the corner of Rose’s vision, moving to stand between the pair. Gavin cleared his throat from the other side of Declan, trying hard to hide his smile.
“Rose,” Ollie’s voice warned, but she ignored him.
“Get out of my way, Oliver! This is between me and the brat!” she snapped.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, lassie.”
“I said move!” Rose snarled. Ollie stepped aside, flashing an apologetic glance to Gavin, who stood silent, watching, stone faced.
“And you,” Rose hissed between clenched teeth, pushing Declan aside as she stepped toward Gavin. “Did you just think that I would be okay with an arranged marriage? That I wouldn’t want a say in my future? You Sinclairs think the world will bend to your will. But it won’t. And I sure as hell am not marrying you.”
“The covens have decided,” Gavin replied matter-of-factly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets and pulling out a cigarillo and matchbook. He lifted the smoke to his lips and flicked a match to life, lighting the end.
“No, Gavin Sinclair, you’ve decided. I had no say in the matter!”
“Rosalie,” Ollie tried again, his animalistic side growling her name.
“Can it, Dawson.”
“Look,” Gavin said, pinching the smoke between his index and middle finger as he puffed out a grey plume. “I was presented with a decision and I made one. I’m sorry if you don’t agree, but it’s done. The ceremony is being planned.”
“I will not!” Rose shouted, throwing her hands into the air. She had half a mind to grab a dagger and hurl it toward the prince. Gavin let out a breath.
“Gentlemen, please excuse Miss Coston and I while we chat. See to it that the castle is locked down.” Turning his attention back on Rose, Gavin held out his elbow, silently issuing for her to take it.
Ollie looked sheepishly at Rose as she begrudgingly took hold of Gavin’s extended elbow and released an irritated sigh. He at the very least remembered his manners training. Flicking her tongue over her fangs, Rose looked back over her shoulder to Ollie who stood like a statue next to Declan, his eyes studying her features as Gavin led her away.
“Just breathe,” Gavin whispered when the two of them were out of earshot. Rose’s eyes snapped to his stony face. He was like cut marble; his emotions undetectable beneath his arrogant mask. They trailed in silence, arm in arm down corridor after corridor, stopping at a sturdy wooden door, carved to look like roots and vines tangled within it. Releasing Rose from his arm, Gavin moved forward, moving iron etchings in a spiral motion before the door snapped open.
“After you,” Gavin said, gesturing for Rose to enter.
The scent of bitter alcohol permeated the air, stinging Rose’s nostril as she entered the dimly lit room. A bedchamber, with a king-size sleigh bed to her right pushed against the wall. Beside it sat two night tables with lit candelabras. To Rose’s left was a fireplace, flickering with life as the flames licked at charred wood and crushed red velvet furniture. Rose turned to the sizable bar that was to the right of the hearth, noting the different shades of amber that glistened in their bottles from the firelight. The sight was magnificent and the smell of booze, abhorrent. Rose whirled to face the prince.
“How can you be okay with this? What is wrong with you?” she growled.
“What makes you think I am okay with it?” Gavin bit back. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Rose watched his chest rise and fall as he took a long drag on his cigarillo and exhaled. Pain etched his features, lowering the wall he had put into place. Lowering a wall that was clearly built after he left her all those years ago.
“I see how you and Ollie look at one another,” he began. Rose stood still, waiting for him to continue. Part of her wanted to ease his pain, something that she had unknowingly caused, but she did nothing. Gavin’s mask returned, his face growing hard once again. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his voice choked out words she knew were eating at him.
“I can smell the connection between you two. The subtle differences in your body when you’re around him. The way his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you. Do you really think that I want to take something from someone who has already lost so much?” His voice wavered. “He’s my best friend. I may be a monster but I’m not heartless.”
I may be a monster, but I’m not heartless. Gavin’s words rang through her brain, swirling and consuming her. Rose didn’t feel her legs move as she stood before the hearth, the prince’s words echoing through her like the stab of a blade. She collapsed into a velvet armchair, feeling the warmth of the fire wash over her skin as if trying to comfort her.
“I just...” she began. “I just don’t see why they chose me instead of Lorelei. You two already have history, why didn’t they choose her?”
Gavin stifled a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Rose demanded, flashing her fangs.
“Do you really want Lorelei as the Queen of Tatum?” he asked. It was a serious question. Did she want that bitch as the Queen of Tatum? Of the realm? Rose thought for a moment while Gavin continued, “She’d kill and maim as many innocent people as she could. Humans would never stand a chance. Rippers would emerge from every corner. Our own race would extinguish itself. I can’t let that happen. I can’t stand to let it happen.”
“But aren’t you a Ripper, Gavin ‘Jagger’ Sinclair?” The room fell silent before Gavin answered.
“The Prince of Blood is, yes, but me, no.” His voice was quiet as he rounded the sofa and sat down next to her. Rose looked up, watching a hue of pink creep along Gavin’s milky cheeks.
“Aren’t you one and the same?” she pressed.
“In essence, yes. We share the same flesh suit. In mindset, no. We’re very different. Why are you asking me this? We’re talking about Lorelei.”
“I know. But... but don’t I have a right to know these things?” Gavin rose from his seat and crossed the room toward the bar that had an assortment of bottles neatly lined on clear crystal shelves, in silence. He grabbed two crystal rock glasses and poured amber liquid into both before crossing back toward the fireplace, sinking back into the spot next to Rose. He offered her a glass, which she graciously accepted.
“A Ripper feeds on nega
tive energy. It thrives on it and is something that you’re born with—an inner demon that takes control when your emotions are out of check. It thrives on destruction. Mine awoke during the war when I witnessed all those deaths and felt the hatred in the air...” He paused, taking a spit of his drink before continuing, “Something like that changes you. That’s all Lorelei would create if she were queen. Yes, we have a past, a complicated one at that, but I don’t want to feel the hate that runs through her veins, the deception she masks and her cruel agenda. She is many things, but queen material is not one of them.”
The room fell silent again as Gavin’s words sank into Rose. She lifted the glass to her lips, immediately recognizing the smell of strawberry infused brandy, her favorite, and tilted the glass back, relishing in the bite as the liquid drained down her throat. She felt an unwanted flutter in her stomach when the prince looked up at her from his glass. Those chocolate, haunted eyes peered through her, all the way to her crumbling heart.
“I-thank you,” she sputtered, taking another sip.
“Rose, I don’t want to do this either. I told them no. They told me I had no choice. That the bylaws stated that a queen must be chosen and a Rose Bound ceremony must commence. They said that failure to do so would leave the realm at risk.” Gavin shook his head, draining the last of his glass. “I don’t believe any of that though. Tatum could go without a queen for a while. Especially after losing my mother.” His voice trailed off and Rose remembered just what the Sinclair children had lost, what Gavin had lost. “But if anyone can fill her shoes, it would be you. I, on the other hand, do not want to sully my father’s memory by fucking this up. Pardon my language, m’lady.”
A traitorous tear slipped down Rose’s cheek. “This is just so unfair.” Her voice broke and she inwardly cursed herself. Gavin’s eyes shot to her face. Instead of ridicule and judgment, she saw nothing but empathy. His hardened expression melted away leaving an unearthly beautiful man in its wake.
“I know, and I am sorry to drag you down with me. If I could choose to be alone, I would. I wouldn’t want anyone to be bound to me for eternity, especially not with what’s coming to Tatum.” He flashed her a weak smile and all the tears she had fought to choke back streamed down her cheeks, marking her skin in black eye makeup smudges but she didn’t care. In that moment, she was not a warrior noble, she was not the heiress she had practiced so hard to be. She was just a girl, in an arranged marriage that neither of them wanted.
“Rose,” Gavin whispered, pushing from his seat so that he crouched before her. He reached out to cup her face with his palm, wiping away the tears with his thumb. “You can try to have the marriage revoked. I won’t stop you and I won’t be mad. This,” he gestured around the room as though it was the entire kingdom, itself, “is a lot to handle. It’s a lot to ask. I’m a lot to ask.” Rose gripped Gavin’s fingers within her own, her silent sobs still wracking her body as she lowered his fingers to her lips and planted a kiss before raising her eyes to meet his.
“Thank you,” she whispered before another bout of emotion took hold.
Black streaks stained Rose’s milky cheeks, smearing onto the backs of her hands as she attempted to wipe away her tears. She was a mess. A goddessdamned mess. And she’d let the prince see her that way.
But Gavin had been kind, gentle, even as he offered her his hands and pulled her to her feet. Rose stared as he walked into the next room and started a bath for her.
“No princess should be seen with tear-stained cheeks. Take all the time you need. I’ll send for some clothes and be out of your hair,” Gavin said when he returned from the bathing chamber. He moved faster than she’d anticipated, pulled the chamber door open without another word and disappeared into the hall.
Rose moved slowly, her body tired, her muscles numb as she entered the bathing chamber and undressed. Steam billowed from the black porcelain tub as scents of sandalwood and lavender whisked her away. Slowly, she crept into the water and sank down. Warmth enveloped her, easing the tension she’d been carrying. Rose scanned the dark stone walls and noticed the absence of sconces or candelabras. The only light filtering in was from the arch-shaped window that sat before her, giving her a view of the grounds below—stables for the Bloodworth’s Pegasi and the meadow that spread behind them. It was gorgeous. It was a sight she could definitely get used to. Rose sighed before she tilted back her head and allowed her mind to wander.
Gavin had given her an out. He’d given permission for her to go to the Council and try to get the decision for the marriage to be overturned, and she wanted nothing more than to do just that. But a part of Rose wondered if she did get it revoked, what her life would look like after? She had no other options for marriage, no other prospects besides the Pits. Although she felt something for Ollie—whether it was lust or the beginnings of something more—she knew that in the long run, their relationship would never work out. Wolves and vampires just didn’t mix.
Rose didn’t know how long she’d sat with her head tilted back and her eyes shut, thinking about everything, but when her eyes peeled back open, her body became alert. Her skin pruned, having soaked far too long in the chilled bathwater. Rose gripped the sides of the tub and stood up, grabbing for a white linen towel situated on the sink for her. She toweled dry and wrapped herself in the damp linen before opening the door to see if the coast was clear. Gavin had left, but he’d also said that he would have clothes delivered to her.
Light breathing sounded from the chamber as Rose nudged the door open a bit more with her foot. She stepped out of the washroom into the darkened bedroom. Gavin laid on the four-poster bed, atop the white duvet with his back to her. Rose could briefly make out the rise and fall of his breathing before discarding her sodden towel to the floor. Cool air wafting in from the opened windows bit at her exposed skin, pebbling it. Rose crossed the room to the red velvet couch where a servant had laid out one of the late queen’s dresses for her. The dress was completely black with lace that covered her neck and chest. A sweetheart neckline made of the finest silk started where the lace ended. Rose gasped. It was stunning. Rose pinched the silk skirts between her thumb and middle finger, rubbing the soft fabric, admiring the handiwork that had gone into making such an exquisite garment. She dropped the silk and picked up the dress and slid it up over her head. The gown caressed her every curve.
“You look beautiful,” Gavin said from behind her, his voice breaking the silence. Rose whirled, eyeing his lazy expression. Gavin laid upon his back, having turned while she was dressing. He peered from one peeled eye, and his head rested on his arm, which extended behind his head. Rose wasn’t worried about him seeing her naked. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Thank you,” she replied, but the slow breathing commenced as Gavin drifted back to sleep. Rose let out a sigh. Just as well. She had a Rose Bound ceremony to dismantle. Rose returned to the washroom long enough to pin up her hair and left the chamber in search of the Council.
The Council was seated right where they had been since arriving in Tatum, their attention on Rose as they sat around the elongated table. Rose stood to the right of her father and took a deep breath.
“Do not waste our time,” Linden Barclay snarled from his seat.
“As if we had anything better to do, Linden,” Zachary Coston snapped before turning his attention to his daughter. “She is to be our next queen.”
“Not until a Rose Bound ceremony takes place,” Tobias Bloodworth corrected. He was seated down the table next to Gavin’s empty chair. “And still, she isn’t the best option.”
“Yes, yes, I know the damn bylaws, you twit. Like your trollop of a daughter would be any better!” Coston barked.
“Enough!” Linden exclaimed. “Let’s hear what Rose has to say. It must be important if she is interrupting.” Rose took another deep breath. It was important. It was her whole damn future at stake!
“Gentlemen,” she began, addressing the coven leaders, “as you’ve stated, a Rose Bound cer
emony must commence in order for a new king and queen to take the throne. But customarily the queen is chosen as the next eldest heiress in line from one of the four covens. That title does not fall upon me. Dahlia should be taking a seat with Gavin. She is the one who should be blood bound, the one who’s soul and life should be tethered to Gavin, not I.”
“As much as I would like to agree with you,” Lord Coston began, “Gavin chose you. His choice overrules the bylaws.”
“Nothing, overrules the bylaws!” Linden snarled. “We have them in place for a reason.”
“Yes, I understand the bylaws,” Rose said, respectfully.
“But, in these circumstances, Rose, Gavin is king by proxy. Therefore, he does have a say. And seeing as your sister is missing, you are the next eldest heiress available.”
“But, Lorelei and I are the same age.”
“Yes, but you were born six months before her. Hence, Gavin’s choice has not violated the bylaws.”
“But—” Rose began. She wanted to tell them that Gavin had given her an out, but the Council didn’t want to hear it. He’d warned her of this as well. Rose’s heart sank at her father’s next words.
“Enough! This meeting is done. You will be bound. You will be queen, Rosalie,” Zachary said. “The Council’s decision is final.”
21
Dahlia
Dahlia’s office door opened with a creak, two hours after she’d given Palmer the order to bring Conan to her. Her heart paced faster in her chest as she awaited the sight of her wolf. The door nudged opened some more before giving her a view of dark hair and olive skin. Piercing dark eyes dragged over her as Dahlia rose to her feet. Conan moved, closing the door behind him and walked with purpose to where she stood. He was a great deal taller than Dahlia, despite the height her black heels gave to her.
Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1 Page 16
