“Thank you. You have no idea how much this meant to me,” I whispered into the dark after him.
I heard a soft sigh, almost like he was content with himself. “Good night, Willow.”
The next morning, I was awakened by a heavy knock on the door. I opened my eyes and watched my confused maids look at each other then the door. Obviously, they had not been expecting a guest any more than I had been. They all returned to their relative tasks like mending my clothes, cleaning my jewelry, and dusting as Lydia called out for the knocker to enter. It was unusual that someone should come so early in the morning, but we seemed to have just assumed it would be someone like my seamstress who had come early to measure me or an extra maid to help with bathing me as nothing was scheduled for this hour.
So when the king entered instead, we all stared in surprise.
It was completely odd for the king to come seek me out for anything other than our sexual encounters, and so far, those were sparse and only happened at night. Once my surprise of his presence faded, I was startled yet again when I noticed he was carrying a small tray filled with food. I nearly gasped when I saw the gentlest of smiles on his lips. I could have sworn he even looked a little bashful. For a moment, I was worried that this man was not actually my husband but some kind of fraud instead.
My maids dropped into deep curtsies and scurried out of the way after they took a couple of seconds to collect themselves, but the small blond had a harder time masking her expression. She looked just as perplexed as I felt, and I imagined the other maids shared the same feeling more privately. It only validated the fact that this was beyond strange behavior from the king.
The king turned to me as soon as the door shut, his brown eyes astonishingly warm and kind. There was something else, almost like regret, floating below the surface. It was still a far cry from James, but odd nonetheless. I couldn't help but frown at him. This was not like the man I knew at all.
But when he took a deep breath and began moving towards my bed, his smile faded to a look of confusion. Then it very quickly transformed as a look of pure rage took over.
And the wrath was not all human. I watched in complete terror as his eyes shifted from their usual dark brown colour to one of complete blackness. He was gritting his teeth tightly, and when his lips parted, I was able to see long fangs extend from his canines.
The animal I had feared so much was surfacing.
I was horrified to see this. I knew that the king was partly werewolf, but I had never seen any werewolf in my life, and the king had always done such a good job of hiding it. Seeing elongated teeth and irises that changed colour made my heart pound at an alarming rate as my mind scrambled to think of what could've caused this reaction. Even those thoughts faded, and my mind was only filled with the horror stories that the villagers shared about these creatures.
Blood and carnage always followed werewolves.
“Who was in here with you?” he demanded, his voice rough as he stalked towards me.
“No one! My maids!” I cried, leaping out of my bed.
I didn't care that I was only in my night gown; my sole purpose was to get away from him as quickly as possible. But I didn't want to start a chase or turn my back on him. I kept my hands up in an act of surrender and took slow, calculated steps backwards to put distance between us.
“Liar! A man was here. Tell me who it was!” he barked.
His voice wasn't human, and the way he moved was more animalistic than ever. It was terrifying.
He was getting closer, and I tried to move away, but my back ended up against a beautifully wallpapered surface. I pressed back as hard as I could, hoping the wall would give out, and I would somehow be able to make an escape, but no such thing happened. In a matter of seconds, the king was before me, and he grabbed my thin arm in a tight grip. And just as I was about to shriek out for help, he leaned down and something sharp pierced the delicate skin on my neck.
For an instant, there was pleasure. My eyes rolled back. It hit me in the same pleasurable waves that only King Archer had given me before.
But then something shifted. It felt like the blood running in my veins was trying to fend off the creature that had torn into my flesh. My body felt like it was filled with the most toxic acid. My skin burned. My heart boiled. Agony seared my flesh.
All I could do was scream as pain consumed my body.
Chapter Fifteen
I could feel the sharp teeth leave my neck at one point, but it didn't matter. The burning sensation continued, and it was not just my neck that hurt; it was my entire body. It was happening so intensely that I kept wailing as tears streamed down my face. I felt like my lungs were depleted of oxygen. I felt like I was drowning in pain. Knowing that the teeth had already left my skin and the agony only continued terrified me. What if the pain never stopped? It felt like it had been going on for hours already, even though it had only been a few seconds. I was leaning back against the wall, clutching my neck while weeping. It was all I could do.
I was so focused on the pain that I was hardly aware of the things going on around me. I could hear people talking, but it sounded muffled to my ears so I couldn't tell who was speaking or exactly what they were saying. In that moment, I didn't want to know, and I didn't care enough to try and listen. I knew that I was being carried somewhere now, but I wasn't sure who was carrying me and where they would be taking me. I didn't care about any of those things either. I just kept my hands clenched tightly over the wound on my neck, crying and screaming when I felt blood trickle through my fingers.
I ended up on my bed. I guessed it was because the king had carried me there. My tear-filled eyes caught my maids. They all looked frightened beyond words. The timid little blonde was holding Lydia's hand, and Lydia just watched me in horror. They seemed concerned, like they thought I would die. And with the amount of blood flowing out of my neck, maybe I would die. The thought didn’t scare me. In fact, it almost offered relief. At least the pain would end then.
“Get the doctor,” the king barked out.
His words sliced through the agony and released a pinch of optimism in my mind. Yes, the doctor would come. I had never seen a doctor in my life. My owners would not pay for one, but I knew they were healers. Some even called them miracle workers. A doctor would give me something that would make this insufferable pain vanish or at least lessen. Yes, a doctor was what I needed.
“The human doctor or the pack doctor?” Lydia asked.
When I glanced at her, I could tell she was trying her best to be strong, but the way her chin quivered showed her true feelings, and it made me cry harder. She was scared; my solid maid who had seen it all was scared.
The king's attention was snatched away from her the second my wails increased and my sobs racked my chest again, nearly choking me. The alarm and confusion was plain on his face. It seemed he may have orchestrated this awful event, but now he wanted to end it just as badly as everyone else.
“Both, we need both,” he replied without looking at her. “And please hurry.”
Lydia left immediately, leaving my other two maids to hold each other's hands and watch the event unfold.
King Archer seated himself on the edge of my bed. He still appeared to be quite distressed, but when he leaned down towards me, I was the one who became even more distraught.
“Get away from me!” I screamed.
“I want to help,” he contradicted.
He was no longer desperate or furious. He sounded calm and collected, like this was something that happened every day, and that made my stomach clench tightly with unease. Perhaps this marriage was going to be much more painful than I had initially imagined. Perhaps my morning wakeup call would be a sharp bite to the neck and blood loss.
The thought made me wish the attack had killed me.
“I don't want you near me!” I cried, desperately thrashing on my elegant bed. “You tried to kill me!” I wasn't sure what I would accomplish by flailing. Even if I hurt him, I couldn't
get away. I was already beginning to feel dizzy and weak.
King Archer looked at me with clear distress on his features. His lips parted as if he was going to deny my accusation but then seemed to think better of it. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes before he leaned away from me.
I lay perfectly still once I was sure he wasn't going to touch me. I bit down hard on my lower lip, causing blood to trickle into my mouth, and I kept my eyes clenched shut. Every muscle in my body was tense and ached with cramps. My hands still cradled my neck. I could feel liquid drip onto them and spill over onto the bedding, but I didn't dare move. The pain had lessened a substantial amount, but I still feared that if I moved an inch, my control would evaporate and screams would pour out of my mouth once more.
“Who was it?” King Archer asked, his voice breaking the long silence. “Who was in your room last night?”
“I wouldn't tell you before; I certainly won't tell you now,” I snapped back, my eyes opening and a small whimper escaping my mouth at the end of the sentence. “You are an animal. You tried to kill me.”
King Archer opened his mouth, those dark eyes looking furious instead of remorseful once more, but just as he was about to speak, the door opened, and two men rushed to my side. His statement was forgotten. They both went to work immediately, both of them demanding that I take my hand away from my neck, and the instant I complied, they examined the wound. They worked efficiently, instructing me to move in ways that wouldn't cause me pain so they could see the extent of my injuries, and they spoke to one another using terms I didn't understand. Still, I listened to all of their directions and gritted my teeth together when they bandaged my neck. And even though I didn't know these men, I could tell the kinder, gentler one was not fond of the colder one. And they had disagreed over something.
“What happened?” King Archer rasped out. “I never marked my first wife. I don't know if this is normal.”
The two men exchanged sideways glances, and the one who was taller with a cooler demeanor answered first. “Because you are a werewolf and she is not, your bite is toxic to her. She lost a lot of blood and needs as much rest as she can possibly get. I can see that she was not in good shape before this incident, and that only increased the severity of the issue. My recommendation would be to allow her to heal and to never attempt to mark her again,” he ordered, packing up his supplies. “She is not one of you and should not be treated as such.” With that, he left the room, completely disregarding me and my maids as he went.
I had no idea what some of his words meant, but I could see the fear and hurt in the king's expression. That had not been the answer he wanted to hear at all.
“And you?” the king whispered, almost sounding frightened when he spoke to the other doctor, “what do you think is going on?”
“I think he is partly right. She is not in good shape, and it is no surprise to me that her body could not handle the marking. However, when I look at the wound, I don't believe it is deep enough to be a legitimate mark. I worry that you will have to mark her again to make it permanent. That being said, now is not the time for that. Her body needs to heal before we can make any assumptions about our next step.”
“Thank you,” the king murmured when the doctor was about to exit. The doctor bowed before departing and then king archer turned back to me. “You have to stay in bed for the next few days. I will send the doctors to check in on you every morning, but if you ever feel unwell, you tell your maids and they will alert someone immediately. I want you to move very little until we are sure that you are well enough. Do you understand?”
“What is 'marking'?” I asked, disregarding his question.
The king stood up and straightened his jacket. “You are not allowed to leave this room unless absolutely necessary, and, under no circumstances, are you allowed to leave the palace until further notice. Do you understand that, Willow?” the king demanded.
“Yes,” I said, hoping he would believe my lie.
Chapter Sixteen
I did everything that was asked of me for the next few days. I would quietly eat my suppers with the king in the evenings. Sometimes, he would force small talk; sometimes, we would sit in silence. Either way, I only spoke when spoken to, and I always answered his questions as promptly as I could without being rude. Every morning, I was forced into a dress, yet I could never leave my bedroom unless the king consented.
I was slowly learning to sew with the help of my maids so I could pass by the dull days. Lydia didn't seem to care much for the idea of a maid teaching me such a skill, but the smallest maid, Isabelle, was delighted to teach me. I wasn't very good at it, and I spent much of my time yelping and fussing over my damaged finger tips, but it certainly passed the time. In addition to this, it made me feel less alienated. I knew I wasn't truly royal, only by marriage, but I was also above my maids. Having time to stitch with commoners might've brought me farther away from my royal title, but at least I had company.
James stayed far away from me during this time, and I couldn't say I blamed him. The king had shown a very violent side of himself that morning, one that had terrified me. I didn't doubt that James was also worried, perhaps even more so than I was. His job and life could be at stake just the same, but he had the training and the upbringing to know better. My ignorance may serve as a heavy excuse. Or maybe he was less worried because he had known the king longer, and he understood the nature of the king more than I did.
I still did not understand what ‘marking’ was, and I was too scared to ask, but I did not want such horrific events to be blamed on James. He was the closest thing I ever had to a friend, and I wanted to keep him safe from the king, even if that meant staying away from each other and remaining in the dark about werewolves for the time being.
But, while James stayed very far away from me, the doctors were always hovering around. I was seen by one doctor in the morning and another in the evening after supper every day. They would ask me the same questions about my neck, unwrap, inspect, and then rewrap my wound. One was still rude, the other remianed kind and gentle. Regardless, they both seemed to think I was healing okay. Occasionally, I would think their actions were tedious, but then I reminded myself of the extreme and debilitating pain I had been in when the 'marking' had occurred, so I said nothing and let them work as they pleased.
One day, when I was stitching with Isabelle, I finally gave up on maintaining silence. It was too much; my mind was drowning in boredom, and I feared that I would go crazy soon if I had no purpose other than healing my wound and stitching.
“Are you a werewolf as well?” I asked, peeking up from my messy work.
I made sure the other maids were too far away to hear, busying themselves with cleaning my armoire and scrubbing the already pristine floor.
Isabelle froze for a second, her hands no longer hemming a pair of breeches that must've belonged to the king. They were too fine of a material to belong to anyone else.
“We aren't allowed to discuss such matters,” she answered quietly. Her soft eyes remained intent on her work, so I wasn't even able to read an expression.
“Why not?” I wondered. I leaned towards her, eager to hear every word that came out of her mouth. I wanted to unravel this mystery more than anything, and she seemed to be the only available key.
“The king forbade it among staff. He does not wish to have a divide between the humans and the werewolves. He says that we must all work together so personal matters are to be left for the home,” she explained.
“I see. So he's worried that many people would have prejudices against one another and the flow within the palace would be disrupted.” I set aside my stitching and straightened my back in the leather chair. “But you and I do not work together, therefore the rule doesn't directly apply to us. So, tell me, are you a werewolf or a human?” I asked again.
“Queen Willow . . . ” Isabelle begged, finally raising her eyes to meet mine. I finally saw that she was quite afraid to answer my question and t
hat she was literally pleading with me.
It disturbed me to think that the man I had married had done this. I wasn't sure what he threatened these women with or what he threatened the rest of the staff with, but, clearly, it was enough. Isabelle was becoming more of a friend than a maid, and I did not wish to upset her, so I let the conversation drop. In addition to this, I did worry that King Archer would not be so kind if he found out about her sharing her secret, regardless of her species or my loophole. And this wasn't the first instance that I saw my husband cause fear. I remembered very well the way my maids reacted when I tried to defy the king the first time. Even Lydia had been terrified.
I didn't want to cause those kinds of consequences anymore. I had been a slave. I knew what it was like to have someone always loom overhead; someone who cared less about your survival then they did about their boots. It was horrifying. I would not put that on my maids, or any staff member, to satisfy my own curiosity.
So when it became too boring to sit around and stitch all day, I told my maids that I would be stepping out for a while. Lydia nodded her head respectfully at my words, but Isabelle still looked anxious. When I exited my room, I was greeted by two guards, James and his usual partner. Both of them offered to accompany me, but I refused and told them I would be back soon enough. Like Isabelle, James looked anxious. He, too, knew the restrictions the king had put on me.
I paid their worrying glances no attention and kindly dismissed any other guards that wanted to join me on my journey. I just wanted to be alone for once, not trapped in my bedroom while dealing with an intense and uncomfortable silence. Even being lonely with my own muddled thoughts was better than that.
I eventually navigated my way through the various halls and rooms and made it outside. I almost laughed a little. I spent so much time in the outdoors when I was a slave. I hated the sun in the summer and desperately wanted to hide away from the heat in the little stone house. When the winter blew in and the cold nipped at my skin, I wanted the same thing to keep me warm from the chill. But now that I lived in a house, a palace that was more gorgeous than anything I could've ever imagined, the only thing I wanted was to be outside, to not be closed in. When the sun hit my face, I tilted my head back and sighed before descending down the beautiful stairs.
The First Queen: A Shifter Romance Page 8
