Princess of the Pack (Shifting the Tale Book 1)

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Princess of the Pack (Shifting the Tale Book 1) Page 5

by Haven Handel


  “What are you doing, Cassandra?” Deo asked, amused. “Looking for an escape hatch?”

  “Nothing,” I said, embarrassed by my childish notions.

  Deo turned me towards him, wrapping his arms around me. “You should know, Cassandra, to leave this castle of your own accord would be to invite death. Do you understand?”

  A cold shiver ran down my spine as my husband’s dark eyes penetrated mine.

  “Y-yes,” I stuttered, knowing this was the only acceptable answer.

  “And even thinking of leaving the castle alone will earn you—”

  My face burning with shame, I said, “I understand,” waving my hand to brush away my husband’s words.

  “Good.” Deo released me, walking towards the door. “Cassandra, I know you are too smart of a woman to do this, but be sure you do not contact any of your friends.”

  The way he spat the word at me, I knew it was a warning not to call my guard ‘pup’ Andrew to come to my rescue.

  I gave a slight nod.

  “I want you to lie down and rest. Then wash and dress. Baal will come to gather you for dinner.”

  “I’m not tired,” I protested.

  Deo abandoned his exit, walking over to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the mysterious wardrobe. “Come,” he said, “or you will be sleeping on your tummy, again.”

  His smirk told me that he had seen me sleeping bum up last night, avoiding lying on my sore tush. I allowed him to lead me to the bed.

  Eyes locked on mine, Deo unbuttoned my coat. He then slowly unbuckled the belt, sliding the material through the loop. Hands on the collar, he slid the coat over my shoulders and down my arms. Folding it neatly at the foot of the bed, he said, “Up you go.”

  Giving Deo an unsure look, I turned to the bed. The mattress was so high, I had to use the small wooden step stool that sat at the foot of it to climb up onto the soft pillow top. I sat on the edge, facing him.

  Kneeling, he took off my pinching high heeled shoes. I stretched and wiggled my toes as I gave a sigh of relief. My husband's quick smile told of his pleasure in making me more comfortable in this small way. One by one, he massaged my aching feet. After placing a small kiss on each of my ankles, he stood.

  “Rest time, sweet one.”

  No longer wanting to argue, I climbed under the fluffy comforter and snuggled down into the big bed. Deo pulled the covers up to my chin and gave my cheek a chaste kiss. “Sleep well, my dear.”

  I felt like a princess up in my four-poster bed, sleeping in the turret of the stone castle. I wasn’t sure if I was the fair maiden, or the prisoner. I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of my hair growing as long as Rapunzel’s.

  Chapter Three

  “Time to go, Sleeping Beauty,” Baal called, knocking on the bedroom door.

  Turning away from the mirror, I called over my shoulder, “Just a second,” then faced my reflection once again. Behind me I could see the bed, piled high with discarded dresses. The mirror reflected the image of a woman who was supposed to be me, but wasn’t.

  The rose-colored dress was tight in the bodice; I was practically spilling out of the top of it. It came down to a narrow waist, then the material flowed down and out. Underneath, cognac leather boots, soft and heelless, peeped out. The shoes were beautiful, and I felt like I was walking on air. The dress I felt ridiculous in.

  Where were my buttoned-down blouses, my black and gray dress pants and pencil skirts? My red Boden dress? Deo had picked out clothes I would never have. A lawyer would be laughed out of the courtroom in these ensembles.

  A rapid knock came to the door. “Have the seven dwarfs carried you off, Snow White?” Baal called.

  My phone beeped, distracting me from the abundant references to various fairy tales, the princess dress and the henchman at the door. I went to the bed and dug through the piles of slinky fabric to find the beeping. It was Cynthia.

  “Where are you? Is everything all right?” Cy demanded, sounding as if she were barely holding it together on the other end of the line.

  “I’m fine, Cy,” I lied in a hushed whisper.

  “What the heck happened? Debbi said you ran off with some Greek model? I went by your house, and no one was there.”

  “Deo has some unexpected family in town.”

  “Cassandra, are you speaking with someone?” Baal’s voice interrupted.

  “Just myself,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll be right out.”

  Cynthia’s voice came through, harsh and agitated. “I’ve been your friend for eight years, Cassandra. I can tell when something is up. First, last night happens, then today you disappear with a total stranger.”

  “I’m just in some trouble, Cy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise,” I quickly blurted out.

  Silence dominated the other end of the line.

  When my friend spoke again, her voice was low and threatening. “If you don’t show your face to me in the next twenty-four hours, I’m calling the cops.”

  The last part was crackling in and out; I was losing reception. But I could read her tone well enough to know Cy was serious about calling the police.

  “Cy, don’t,” I hissed, holding the phone tightly as I begged. The call dropped.

  “Shoot.” I had to think quickly. I was guessing the last thing Deo wanted with whatever was going on here, was for law enforcement to become involved. I quickly typed a message to Cy, begging her not to do anything rash.

  “I’m coming in, Cassandra.”

  Panicked, I quickly slid the phone down into the bodice of my dress. Adjusting the low neckline, the door swung open to reveal a stunning Balthazar. He wore a white, linen shirt that was open at the collar and tan trousers hung from his slim hips. Around his waist was a reddish-brown leather belt that had a carved silver buckle. His green eyes twinkled at me as they took in my ensemble.

  “You look beautiful,” Baal said, “like a princess.”

  “That’s precisely the problem, Baal. I’m not a princess, I’m a lawyer. And I look ridiculous.” I crossed my arms over my chest, hiding any potentially visible outline of the phone.

  “You look like a lovely, young woman.”

  “I miss my suits,” I grumbled.

  “Bah. That’s the problem with you American women and your fashion.”

  “What?”

  “You dress like men.” Laughing, Baal held his arm out to me in a gentlemanly fashion. “Come.”

  My skirts swished back and forth as I walked to meet him. “How positively archaic of you, Baal.”

  Giving a laugh, Baal looked me over, saying, “You are a lovely woman, Cassandra. This dress complements your beauty perfectly. Deo has good taste.”

  “I like my suits,” I repeated, adjusting the tight fabric of the top with my free hand. I relaxed a bit, sure that my phone was securely hidden just below my cleavage. Leading me down the long passageway, Baal continued to playfully tease me.

  We reached the end of the hall. Gliding down the winding grand staircase leading to the main foyer, I felt like I was in a fairy tale. Though, I wasn’t sure yet how this one would turn out. Like the gruesome tales from the Brothers Grimm, or the stories in the Disney movies I’d watched as a child?

  Waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, Deo looked dashing in his crisp white button-down shirt and charcoal gray suit. Taking my hand, he bowed, kissing it gently. “Cassandra, you have a divine beauty.”

  “As do you,” I replied, shyly. My husband of ten years had never looked as good as he did tonight. He wore a belt the same style as Baal’s, but of black leather. The buckle had a small carving on it as well. Deo took my arm from Baal, and we walked towards the room off the main hall.

  “Our little dining room,” Deo said with a laugh, gesturing at the grand space that held a table with a least fifty wooden chairs, all carved with elaborate patterns. The polished table shone under the light of a row of three crystal chandeliers. Huge tapestries depicting the four seasons hung from
the walls. At the end of the hall, a fire roared in an ostentatious fireplace that was gilded in what looked to be solid gold.

  Already seated at the table, Draco’s eyes appraised me as I entered the room. Giving him a small smile, another figure caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I glanced across from Draco.

  “Alekos!” Forgetting everything, I dropped Deo’s arm and ran to him. Alekos jumped up from his seat, just in time to catch me in a big hug.

  “Cassie,” he laughed, kissing my cheek. Holding me at arm’s length, still laughing, Alekos proclaimed, “What has my brother done to you? Is this,” he gasped dramatically, “pink?” Hand around his throat, Alekos pretended to be dying. “Where is the black, the gray, the killer lady heels?”

  For the first time in almost a day, I could give a genuine laugh. I did a little twirl for Alekos. “You like?” I asked. My skirts ‘swished’, falling perfectly into place.

  “Of course. Your beauty is unmatched, Cassie. You could make wearing a flour sack look good.” Alekos kissed my cheek again. “It’s so good to see you, little sister.”

  Born the same year, Alekos was two months older than me, and ever since my wedding day, loved to tease that he was now my big brother. Being a full head taller than me, having the same muscular build as his brother, Alekos looked the part.

  His tanned skin glowed against his white muscle tee shirt, tucked into jeans and a light brown belt with a similar buckle to the others. Brown eyes twinkled with laughter, framed by medium length, curly caramel hair. Alekos’ easygoing nature, infectious grin and constant laugh made everyone he met an instant friend. Hiding his brilliance below the surface, Alekos never took anything too seriously, except when it came to his family.

  Though Alekos and Deo were opposites, they were as close as two brothers could be. Deo took on the protective older brother role, having practically raised Alekos himself after their parents’ sudden death.

  I not only loved being around Alekos because of his jovial nature, I enjoyed the changes I saw in Deo when he was in Alekos’ presence. He was calmer, quicker to smile, more likely to tell a joke. I glanced over to Deo, enjoying the peaceful smile that rested on his face.

  Walking over to Alekos and I, Deo tousled Alekos’ curls affectionately. “Okay, children, let’s eat,” he said with a wink. “Aunt Margaret will be upset if we let her good food get cold.”

  “You have an Aunt Margaret?” I asked, curiously. I had never heard of such a woman.

  “We have a lot of—extended family—you could say, in Greece. Many have been called in for… we will get to that. First, we dine.”

  Holding out the chair to the left of the head of the table, Deo looked to me. I quickly slid in, hiding my eyes from Draco who was sitting across from me. Baal took the seat next to Draco, and Alekos, the seat next to mine. Sliding his arms out of his jacket and folding it on the back of his chair, Deo took the seat at the head of the table.

  A small woman with olive skin and dark hair lined with gray shuffled into the room, pushing up her tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose. She was carrying a heavy looking tray, but when Baal stood to assist her, she shooed him away. “I got it, I got it,” she spoke through a thick accent, then added a few Greek words I had never heard Deo utter before.

  “Cusses like a sailor,” Alekos leaned in, whispering to me. I stifled a laugh as the slight woman gave me a disapproving look.

  “Aunt Margaret, Cassandra. Cassandra, Aunt Margaret,” Deo said, introducing us with a wave of his hand.

  “You don’t get in my way, girly, and we will be just fine,” she said, grumpily, placing the tray on the table with a thump. She wandered out of the room, muttering to herself.

  “I think she likes you,” Alekos jibed.

  Chuckling as the older woman departed, I looked over the tray she had delivered. The smell of the roasted lamb hit my senses and made me realize how hungry I was. The salad I had picked at during lunch seemed like days ago.

  Deo took a white china plate from the stack beside him, and piled it with the lamb, pita bread and tzatziki sauce. He handed the first plate to me. It took all my self-control to wait until each person had been served before I dug into the delicious meal.

  “Slow down, Cassie,” Alekos joked. “You’re going to ruin that new dress.”

  Sure enough, I looked down to see a trial of tzatziki running down my bodice.

  Reaching across the table, Draco handed me a cloth napkin. He had wet the corner in a glass of water.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, dabbing at my dress. Clinking of forks on plates was the only sound as we all ate. I wasn’t the only hungry one.

  Aunt Margaret came stumbling back out, this time with a platter of baklava. She slammed it down next to Deo, demanding, “Where is Xander? Why must he always be late? Huh?” Without waiting for an answer, she shuffled back to where the kitchen must be.

  Deo looked to Baal, an amused look on his face. “Where is baby boy?” he asked, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

  Assuming Balthazar was the ‘keeper of the Greeks’ as he seemed to oversee everyone’s comings and goings, I listened for his reply.

  “Xander will arrive in the morning. Traveling from Turkey to New York takes a bit longer than from Greece.”

  Nodding approvingly, Deo said, “Then everyone will be here. We will meet in the morning.” Turning to me, Deo placed a reassuring hand on mine. “Then everything will make sense, Cassandra. I promise.”

  “You mean, things will start making sense, my brother,” Alekos teased. “There is much to learn.”

  There was no way I would make it to the morning without at least knowing a hint of what was going on. “May I just ask you gentlemen a few questions?” I began. Immediately, Deo gave me ‘the look’. The one that said, ‘be quiet’. The look I usually ignored and pressed on, sometimes just to push his buttons. Tonight, I held my tongue.

  “Good girl,” Deo said with a wink, much to my embarrassment. I peeked up to see how the other men had taken my admonishment, but they all acted as if living in a castle with a fake princess and her domineering king was entirely normal to them. In fact, these men looked more at home here and out of place in the real world.

  Their beauty blended perfectly with the medieval architecture and rich décor. The way they carried themselves, their chivalry and impeccable manners seemed to fit in a place of another time.

  “May I ask just one little question?” I turned to Alekos to block the warning look from Deo that I knew was coming. “What’s with the belts? You guys like to match? Is it like best friend necklaces?” I teased.

  Alekos let out his infectious laugh. “Yes, we are, in that way, a bit like adolescent girls. We like to match. Though each belt is a bit different.”

  “I’ve noticed the colors, but are the buckles different as well?” I had been wanting to get a closer look all night, but they were worn in a rather precarious position to allow checking them out on such handsome men. Assumptions would be made of me.

  Alekos unbuckled his, carefully sliding it through the denim loops, then handed it to me. The leather was soft and supple, a light, tawny brown. I examined the belt closely. Carved in the metal buckle was an intricate picture. The rectangle held a wooded scene. Looking closer, I mused. “It’s the castle.” Hidden amongst the trees was the same entrance that we had driven under this afternoon.

  There amongst the trees was a small carving of a wolf that was so well done, it was almost lifelike. As I continued to study the artwork, I could see the faint outline of a man in the woods. The wolf stood before the forest, as if protecting the man.

  I handed the belt back to Alekos. As he took it from me, I saw a gold glint shine from his wrist. It was Deo’s bracelet.

  Reaching out and touching it with my fingertips, I said, “I thought Deo had given his bracelet to Baal when he came to get me. Why do you have it?”

  “We all have one,” Alekos answered.

  I
inspected each of the men’s wrists from where I sat, and they did all have the same bracelet. How had I missed that?

  “Just another matching token. Not unlike the friendship bracelets you probably had in grade school,” Baal interjected.

  “Enough questions for one night, Cassandra.” Deo’s deep voice practically echoed through the great hall. “Eat.” He gestured at my plate, raising a brow to me.

  No longer hungry in all the excitement, I took a little nibble of a triangle of pita.

  “A real bite,” he growled.

  This public discipline routine was going get old, quickly.

  Not wanting to draw even more attention to myself, to Deo’s obvious pleasure, I took a much larger chunk of the bread into my mouth, chewing slowly. My need to have some piece of control over my life, no matter how small, nagged at me. Giving Deo an innocent look, I said, “Can you please pass the baklava.”

  Deo placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands and pointing those index fingers at me. “Dinner first, princess,” he said.

  My face burned with frustration, but I didn’t argue. To my further dismay, I could sense Baal laughing at me from his place across the table.

  When I had taken a few bites of lamb, Draco lifted the silver server from the dessert platter, and picked the largest triangle of baklava, carefully placing it onto a clean spot on my plate.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. Taking a bite, I willed myself not to moan aloud. It was the perfect combination of flaky and chewy, with just a touch of sweetness.

  Eating commenced and everyone was silent. I think they were afraid to speak in front of me, for fear of releasing information they did not yet want me privy to. As I was polishing off my treat, and deciding if it was okay for a princess to lick her fingers, my chest began to sing. Betty Everett cried out the lyrics to It’s In His Kiss.

  “Oh, geeze,” I murmured. Lifting my chin and acting as if this was how I carried my phone every day, I reached down into my bodice, struggling to retrieve it from beneath my cleavage, and silenced the ringer. I placed the phone down beside my plate, looking sheepishly at Deo.

 

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