by Chloe Cole
"Three girls have been found dead in the past six months," Cook admitted, the air whistling out of her in a rush, like a kettle about to boil. "It's just rumors so far, lass. The one the other night is one we know for sure because she was the smith's daughter, and one from a few months ago was the cousin of a silk merchant in the city, but the other is unconfirmed." She squeezed my arm gently and forced me to look at her. "Servants love to gossip. It could all be ghost stories for all we know. And, as you said, there are dozens in the Royal Harem who all seem to be the picture of health."
I nodded in agreement but there was no conviction behind it. I could see it in their eyes.
They were afraid.
And not just that I’d be unhappy or homesick.
They feared for my very life.
Chapter 19
The next few days went by in a haze. Some moments were full of a joy so pure it was almost like a drug, and others, I felt nothing but despair.
My lessons continued on and my dancing and fighting and table manners improved but whenever things got too intimate, I begged off. Because, all the while, hanging over my head was the inescapable realization that, if the servants had heard the rumors about the deaths at the castle, so had my tutors.
And so far? They hadn’t said a word to me about it. With every hour that passed in their silence, my nightmare played through my mind again like a funeral dirge.
I walked down the sweeping staircase, a knot in my gut so tight, it felt like a fist. I didn't blame them. They barely knew me, after all, and there was no question their lives were at stake if they spoke up or tried to intervene. In fact, we’d all probably wind up dead, but I couldn’t deny it.
I was heartbroken.
It wasn't fair of me. They'd promised me nothing and given me everything good I’d ever known. But it didn’t change the way I felt.
And now it was here. This was it.
Tears welled in my eyes again but I managed to blink them back. This was no time for crying. The second they saw the depth of my sadness, it would make them all feel terrible, and as heartsick as I was over leaving, it would do no good to drag them into the maelstrom. They might not feel utterly bereft the way I did at the thought of our impending separation, but I knew they cared, despite their notable silence regarding the rumors of the harem. Each and every one of them would feel awful if they saw how sad I was. The old saying "misery loves company" wasn't true in this case.
I cared too much to wish misery upon them.
I reached the long hallway and made my way into the dining room, pausing just outside the doorway to listen to their brotherly banter.
"Let's make a wager on it then, shall we?" Gatlin was saying, the note of challenge clear in his tone. "If you beat me, I'll give you my best stallion.”
"And if I lose?" Connor's laughing tone filled the air, making my lips twitch into a bittersweet smile. "What do I have to give you?"
"One week of total silence," Gatlin replied.
Lucian's grunt of approval came next. "Jesus, tell me that silence applies for all of us, brother. Connor can't speak to any of us for a week, is that right? I'll start training you today if that's the case."
I swept into the room, determined to get a visual of their bantering camaraderie so I could hold the moment close to my heart during the darkest of times. "What did I miss?" I asked, shooting a grinning Gatlin a quick glance.
"Just my brothers trying to wound me," Connor said, trying to look affronted and failing. "But they're about to get schooled. You heard it, Anaya, you're our witness. In one week's time, Gatlin claims he can beat me in a foot race. No shifting allowed."
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and managed a small smile. "I won't be able to commit to witness duties, but please do send word to me at the castle with the name of the winner. I'm interested to hear who prevails."
The chuckles ceased and it felt like a wet blanket had been tossed over the room. I could feel the weight of all of their stares as I took my seat, and wished to hell I knew what to say to make it better.
“We still have two days, Anaya. And we’ll still see one another on occasion," Lucian said in a low voice, his dark eyes pinned on my face. I looked over at him and noticed that his whole body seemed tense, as if he was ready for battle, and his expression was thunderous. I vowed then and there to ramp up my efforts to put on a happy face.
"Of course we will," I said with a nod, plucking my crimson napkin off the table and spreading it onto my lap. "There will be loads of feasts and balls. I imagine you run into your former pupils all the time."
The weight of Michael's stare caught my attention and I lifted my head to capture his molten gaze. Of the four, he was the least able to mask his emotions. I could almost read his thoughts from across the table, and for one, terrifying moment, I wondered if he could read mine. But then he turned his attention to the heavy kitchen door that swung open a second later.
Cook stepped through with a steaming tray of asparagus smothered in hollandaise sauce as Hattie pulled up behind her with a mountain of bread rolls in one hand and a plate piled high with lamb-chops in the other.
"Smells delicious," Gatlin said, tugging his own napkin from the table as the women spread the bounty before us. "You're a wizard, Cook."
"I swear it, ever since my own son up and married, nothing does my heart better than feeding you boys." Her cheeks glowed pink with pleasure as the rest of the brothers complimented the look and smell of the food.
“Since I’ve only a couple nights left, do you think we might have some of that glorious burgundy from the cellar?" I asked, reaching nonchalantly for a golden, pillowy roll as I spoke.
"Of course, darling!" Her lips screwed into a wobbly line and her sparkling eyes went even more sparkly than usual. "Ah, we're going to miss you, lass," she murmured, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder gently before releasing me. "I don't know what it is about you, but it feels like you...belong here."
I couldn't bring myself to reply right away because my throat was clogged with emotion, but the heavy weight hanging over the room only felt heavier now and I shifted in my seat.
This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all.
"I appreciate it. I've enjoyed every minute with you," I said brightly. "Even more reason to celebrate the time we've had."
"Bring on the wine," Gatlin murmured, his gaze trained on me as he lifted a fork to the platter of lamb. "And let's make it a party, shall we?"
And so it went as we ate and talked deep into the night. Dinner was delicious and I forced myself to eat every bite that was set before me, knowing four pairs of eyes were watching my every move and would wonder at my lack of appetite. I managed to keep up my end of the conversation, adding a joke here or there and laughing when it was appropriate. A couple of times, it was even genuine as I was drawn into the warmth and easy chatter between them all. Then I would remember what was to come and my stomach would clench with dread.
By the time the dinner plates were cleared and Cook and Hattie had called it a night, I was feeling more tense than ever and slightly buzzed despite having only one sip of the burgundy before switching to mead. I pushed my glass aside and selected a lacy looking pink petit four from the elegant treats that Cook had prepared especially at my request.
"The king will have to roll me into the harem room if I eat any more," I said, popping the morsel into my mouth with a groan. My words were met with silence and I glanced around to see all of the Saint John men looking rather dazed and tired.
Lucian finally spoke, but his speech was slurred and slow. "I don't like to think of it ever, woman. Don't mention him again in my presence."
He held up his glass and Michael, Connor and Gatlin followed suit.
"To our Anaya."
They clapped their glasses together hard enough to send liquid sloshing over the sides and then drank from them in sync.
My heart thudded so loudly I could hear it with my own ears as I pushed my chair from the table and stood.<
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"I have a toast that I need to make as well." I cleared my throat and garnered the very last bit of self-control I possessed to keep from bursting into wracking sobs. With a shaking hand, I lifted my glass and peered at each brother in turn. “My time with you all has been the most freeing, life-changing time of my entire life. No matter what happens, I shall carry each and every one of you in my heart for eternity. Please remember that, will you?"
I took a swallow from my cup and then made my way around the long table until I stood beside Connor. I bent down and cupped his cheek in my hand, my heart constricting as his gaze met mine. "For making me laugh at the most inopportune times, and for teaching me to whirl around the dance floor," I whispered before pressing my mouth to his in a gentle kiss. His hand rose to cup my face in kind as he returned the pressure, touching the tip of his tongue to mine for a fleeting moment. I pulled away, gaze locked on his face as I tried to remember each and every detail.
I moved to Lucian next and his chair was already pushed back from the table to make room for me.
I bent toward him, but he yanked me onto his lap and pulled me close, the intensity of those eyes scorching me to my very soul.
"And you," I whispered, spearing my hand into his dark hair. "A night will never pass where I don't think of you and the way you make me feel inside. Confident. Beautiful. Strong." I kissed him but he instantly took control of the kiss, nipping my bottom lip hard before releasing me and pushing me off his lap.
"Go on to the next before I decide that you can't," he muttered.
I rounded the table, passing Gatlin to get to Michael, whose golden eyes were filled with so much emotion, it felt like a knife in the gut. I'd just reached his seat when his arms curled around my waist. I dipped my head to his and, for a long moment, we just stared into one another's eyes. Like always, no words were needed. Seeing him...knowing him through the windows into his soul was singular and filled me with a longing I'd never known. I kissed his sensual mouth long enough to etch the sensation on my brain, but when I pulled away, he anchored me close, peppering my nose, my cheeks and the corners of my mouth with butterfly kisses.
The move had hot tears trailing down my face and I swiped them away as I straightened.
How would I survive without this? What would my life be without each one of them and the joy and challenge and laughter and feeling they brought?
"Forgetting someone, brat?"
I stiffened my chin and licked away the salty tears from my lips as I approached his seat. Before I could bend closer, he stood, towering over me, and swept me into his arms.
"This isn't goodbye, Anaya. I'll take the kiss, but save the words. It’s not over yet.” He dipped me backward and slanted his mouth over mine, tracing the seam of my lips with his tongue until I opened to him. My heartache, my guilt and fear--all of it was swept away for an instant as his mouth ravaged mine.
When he finally drew me upright and pulled away, I felt like I'd been doused in flames, every nerve ending crackling with life.
I sucked in a shuddering breath, smoothing a hand over the front of my dress as I tried to remember what I was about, but it all came crashing back when Gatlin swayed on his feet.
"What--Christ, what have you done, woman?"
His accusing gaze put those flames out like a bucket of icy water and I stepped back as he tried to steady himself using the back of his chair for balance.
"Sit," I murmured, the tears running freely now.
I glanced around to see his brothers equally affected, looking lethargic and confused as they swayed in their seats.
I gently guided Gatlin's massive frame back into the chair, flinching when his fingers circled my wrist.
"Answer me!" he growled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t go to the harem, Gatlin. It will kill me inside. You will all be okay. I drugged the wine with some herbs I picked in the garden. They’ll wear off in a few hours and you’ll be as right as rain. I penned a confession note for you to give to the king so he doesn’t blame you. Forgive me.”
"Anaya, no,” he gasped, his head drooping, “you don't understand..."
But before he could finish, his fingers went slack and the words died on his lips as he slumped back.
I wrenched my hand away and glanced around the table once more, pulse knocking out of control.
It was done. Somehow, I'd managed to trick them all. Now came the hardest, most painful part of all. Harder than the lies and the deceit.
Walking away.
Chapter 20
I rushed to my room, Michael's face flashing through my mind and the ache in my chest built to the point of pain. He'd been so tender, so sweet and fierce as he'd tried to teach me how to fight in my human form. And Connor, always ready with a joke or a sly smile that made even the darkest day brighter. Gatlin, cocky, strong, stubborn and oh so sexy...the lynchpin between them all. Their unofficial alpha. God, and Lucian. Even in my despair, my whole body quivered at the memory of his rough, sure touch.
How was I going to go on without them?
Go, go, go, stupid! the little voice of self-preservation inside me scolded. You would be forced to leave them no matter what, soon enough. As for how you'll go on? You'll go on same as you did before.
But that wasn't the truth. At least before, I'd had pockets of happiness in an otherwise unremarkable life. Eating savory pies at the Autumn Harvest Fair. Late night whispers with my beloved Iris beneath the covers. Watching the snow from the window of our cozy home as the fire crackled and the scent of my mother's warm chocolate filled the air.
Now, I couldn't allow myself any delusions.
The second I left the grounds, I would be, at best, banished from the realm for life and, at worst, labeled a traitor and hunted like a rabid dog. There would be no more family, no home to return to, no safety net.
I would be a lone lioness. The only thing separating me from the marauders would be my sense of right and wrong.
Marauders.
My skin prickled with chills as I peered into the closet and tugged out the warmest riding outfit I could find, along with a pair of soft leather boots.
At least I'd learned something while I was here about protecting myself. Would that be enough to fight a large male? Probably not. But I was a good hunter and I was smart and fast. So long as I stayed ever watchful, diligent, and on the move, I had a chance of making it out on my own.
I bent and dragged the satchel I'd packed from the closet floor before tossing it onto the bed. Then, I disrobed and dressed quickly, cursing my trembling hands as I buttoned my shirt.
When I was done, I took the time to douse the fire blazing in the corner of the room before taking one last look around.
"Goodbye," I whispered softly as tears blurred my vision. Ridiculous to cry over a bedroom, but it had been my first. I'd shared a room with Iris my whole life and here, in Saint Johns’ estate I'd had my very own space with my very own bed. If I was hot, I could throw the shutters open and breathe in the crisp, night air. If I was cold, I could add another log to the flames without having to listen to Iris whine about the heat or my father gripe about how much firewood I'd wasted.
As hampered as I was in some ways, in others, this short time with my tutors had offered me more freedom than I'd ever had.
I looped the strap of my bag over my shoulder and then headed for the door.
The rest of the house was silent but I walked on the balls of my feet anyway. The last thing I needed was some big confrontation or the servants trying to stop me.
Guilt stabbed at me again but I shoved it aside. If I thought there was any chance they'd let me leave without subterfuge, I'd have done it. The herbs had been for their own good. I'd even left the mortar and pestle along with the note and bundle of the weeds at the desk in my bedroom as proof of my guilt. When the king came and demanded to know why they let me escape, there would be irrefutable evidence that I'd betrayed and tricked them. That had to be enough to protect them.
I
scurried down the long hallway and down the stairs. When I reached the great room and could finally see the front door, I finally let out a breath.
I crossed the room to the wide wooden door and let myself out.
The night was a cold one and I tugged my cloak more tightly around my shoulders. It was a good thing lion blood ran hot because I could see my breath coming in short, white puffs. Worst case, I could shift for a while to warm up.
The walk to the stables was a scary one. Clouds obscured the new moon and stars shined feebly, like they were just too tired to do the job right tonight. I rushed across the lawn and approached the sprawling, wooden structure gingerly.
The horses sensed me long before they saw me, and they kicked up a gentle fuss, snickering and whinnying softly. I dug a hand into my satchel and pulled out the carrots and sugar cubes I'd stolen from the kitchens earlier that day.
"It's all right, precious loves. I've got a treat, yeah?" I murmured as I crept forward.
I'd ridden often back home--I even had my own mare, Sansibel--but the Saint John stables were filled to the rafters with massive stallions that could have easily been warhorses if necessary. I scanned my choices as I passed out treats tentatively, reading their names from the placards hanging next to their stalls and growing more apprehensive by the second.
Diablo.
Satan's Paint
Hell Razor
I finally stepped toward a dappled mare named Artemis. She was large and sleek, but she had gentle eyes and was already bowing her head toward me as if in invitation.
"Hey there, pretty girl," I whispered. I laid my palm flat and set a sugar cube in the center. She took it gently, tickling my palm with her velvety nose. "You want to get away from all these big, stinky boys with me?" I asked with a low chuckle.
"I resemble that remark."
My heart plummeted to my stomach as I wheeled around to see Connor leaning casually against one of the stalls, chewing on a piece of straw, looking a little pale and only slightly worse for the wear.
