by Maggie Ryan
Alekos joined us, calling out a jovial, “Long time no see.” Wrapping his arms around Dolly, he lifted her right off the floor, twirling her in his arms. “Hello, petite Mama,” he said joyfully.
Laughing, Dolly slapped his back with her jewel-covered fingers. “Put me down, Alekos,” she shrieked.
Clearing his throat from across the room, Artem cut his eyes to Alekos. Kissing Dolly’s cheek, Alekos returned our aunt to the floor. Flushed, she straightened her dress, elbowing Alekos good-naturedly.
Artem spoke. “Deo, Alekos, a pleasure to see you again, my sons.” Looking over our group, he added, “There are more here than we anticipated.” His cold eyes rested on Andrew and Cynthia.
Striding across the dining room, Cynthia held out her hand to Artem. I was impressed with her natural confidence and composure.
“Hello, Artem, my name is Cynthia,” she said clearly, giving Artem a firm handshake. Gesturing over her shoulder, she said brightly, “And this is Andrew. We have come to join the team.”
Releasing her hand, Artem asked coolly, “And how exactly have you come to join our team?”
Clearing his throat, Andrew answered, “Friends of Cassandra.”
“Ah, Cassandra,” Artem said, fully laying eyes, up close, on my wife for the first time. A look of disdain crossed his furrowed brow, though so slight only I or Draco could have detected it there.
I felt Draco tense by my side. When the guardian had joined Cassandra and me on this side of the table, I had no idea, but was not the least bit surprised.
“Easy,” I whispered through my teeth to the dragon. Draco shifted his weight on his feet at my word. Cassandra looked between us anxiously. I gave her a smile, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly to my side.
“Artem, it is my honor to officially introduce you to my wife, Cassandra.”
Hands locked behind his back, Artem strode over to where we were standing. Stopping in front of Cassandra, his eyes roved over her. I could feel my wife becoming ill at ease. Catching Artem’s eye, I sent him a look, suggesting he go easy on my wayward bride. Artem was a fierce believer in devotion, fidelity, and loyalty. He was not pleased with my wife.
Not reaching a hand out in greeting, Artem stood solid, giving Cassandra a hard stare. Dark brows knitting together, he spoke quietly. “The young wife. And so, we finally meet.”
Cassandra froze in my arms.
The tense silence was interrupted by Dolly’s cheerful twang. “Oh, my, y’all, is this Margaret’s cooking? I declare I am simply famished from that trip. Florida is so much warmer than New York. Just being out in this cold made me hungry,” she said, placing a gentle hand on Artem’s forearm.
Jumping at the chance to lighten the mood of the room, Baal and Alekos quickly made room for our guests at the table, moving place settings and glasses down the line. “Sit, sit,” Alekos commanded, pulling out a chair for Aunt Dolly. “I’ll go talk Margaret into bringing out some more food.”
“Better he then I,” Baal joked. “Margaret would beat me with her spoon if I requested more food.”
At Baal’s proclamation, Artem shot me a knowing glance, his mouth tight. I was well aware that he felt that I was at fault for our predicament. Having encouraged me to take my wife in hand immediately after marrying, he believed we would not be in this mess had I followed his advice. Part of me couldn’t fault him for his belief. In not doing so, the darkness had been unleashed.
What more could I do than learn from the mistakes of my past? I looked away from Artem’s dark gaze.
Margaret came shuffling out, followed by Alekos. Greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, Artem took my seat at the head of the table. Baal sat to his right, Dolly to his left, and Alekos next to her. I sat beside Baal, Cassandra beside me, and Draco, as always across from my wife. With the lethal looks Artem was sneaking at Cassandra between bites of food, I was happy to have Draco so close.
Everyone returned to their half-finished meals. Dolly and Alekos chatted animatedly, like mother and son who had much to catch up on.
I rested my hand on Cassandra’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Uncharacteristically quiet, she looked up, giving me an unsure smile. It was obvious she sensed Artem’s disdain for her.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured lowly, “he will grow to love you. I promise.”
Picking worriedly at her food with her fork, Cassandra did not reply.
“Eat,” I said, giving her thigh a firmer squeeze. I would not have my wife practicing all day and not nourishing her body. We would sit here until everyone else had eaten and excused themselves from the table if that was what it took for her to finish a meal.
Giving a small sigh, Cassandra obeyed, biting into a piece of roasted cauliflower.
Artem watched us curiously. My eyes locked with his. There was much we needed to discuss.
Chapter Twelve
Deo
Pouring from the decanter of Glenlivet, I half-filled two cut-crystal tumblers. I placed them on the tray beside the cigars, hoping Margaret would not notice two gone from her stash. I had found them, hidden in the false wall of the library, where I knew she kept her supply.
The Glenlivet was mine. Not one to drink as I preferred to keep my wits about me, there was still a time and a place for a quality glass of liquor to be shared between men. I sat in one of the wingback chairs, facing the fire and waited for Artem. The tray sat on a dark wood table between the two chairs, the Scotch whiskey and cigars waiting. I watched the flames dancing in the stone fireplace.
This was, by far, my favorite room in the castle. Each night, after tucking Cassandra sweetly into her bed, I retreated here, to be alone with my thoughts, my planning. Being the leader, responsible for all’s well-being, could be lonely at times. Though I was wary of Artem’s current disdain for my wife, I was glad to have him here, now, hoping to glean from his wisdom. Time was running out.
There was a light knock at the door. “Come in,” I called, lifting the tumblers from the tray.
Artem appeared, closing the heavy door behind him with a loud click of the brass latch.
His heavy footsteps fell as he crossed the room to me. Releasing his breath, he settled his body into the deep chair. Giving me a rare, comfortable smile, Artem took a glass from me, clinking it to mine as he did. Eyeing the cigars, his smile brightened. “Margaret’s, no doubt. Will she miss them?”
“I’m sure I will pay the price,” I said, lifting a cigar and twirling it delicately in my fingers. “But for a Vamma Del Sol, I will risk it.”
Taking a sip of his scotch, Artem relaxed in a way he only could when either alone, or in the presence of Dolly or me. Prior to passing the crown to me, so to speak, Artem had been the head of the Ambrosia dynasty. He well understood how burdensome it was to have the safety of others resting on your shoulders.
“Rest, catch your breath,” I said, taking a sip of the amber liquor. It warmed the insides of my mouth, and I let it sit there a moment, enjoying the burn on my tongue before swallowing. “I want to thank you for coming. I apologize for tearing you away from your golf game.”
Closing his eyes and resting his head back on the chair, Artem chuckled. “As hard as it might be to believe, golf and I do not seem to get along.”
I doubted that but it wasn’t his skill at golf that I needed to tap into. It was his skill, his experience as a leader.
His eyes remained closed. “Should we have warned her?” Artem gravely asked.
Focusing my eyes on the part of the flame closest to the burning log, I watched the flickering violet color that would appear, disappear, reappear. It came and went as Cassandra’s aura had that afternoon in the basilica’s courtyard.
My voice low, I answered, “Perhaps, but it was my choice. I didn’t want to scare her and I never thought for a moment our marriage was in danger.”
I knew what was coming next. My familiarity of the statement didn’t make it any less gut-wrenching to hear.
“I was in denial,” I mused, swirling the liquor against the sides of the glass. The amber waves rose and fell over the cut crystal. “I let my fear of hurting her keep me from fulfilling my duties.” I shook my head, giving a sigh. “To be honest, I feared she’d break.”
“What changed?” Artem asked, his dark eyes looking at me with a fatherly concern. “I can tell just by the way she moves her body around yours, looking up to you through her lashes, that you have finally taken that woman into your hands. It is about time.” Leaning back in his chair, staring at the fire, Artem gave a chuckle. “Her clues gave it away, and Baal told me, of course.”
“There are no secrets in this family. No?” I laughed. Baal was never one to shy away from sharing information. Especially when he found humor in it, as he had when he learned of my feisty lawyer wife receiving my discipline.
“It’s not simple like it is with Dolly,” I sighed. My Aunt Dolly was a strong-willed woman, one who knew what she wanted and was upfront about it. She had desired a man to care for her and protect her, to be a disciplinarian as well as her lover. She had found that with Artem. And by nature, Dolly was as loyal as a woman came.
“Cassandra is a bit more complicated,” I began. “She didn’t know, or wouldn’t admit what she desired until I had taken her over my lap and shown her; she had fought me in our marriage. Never letting me ‘win’, she was a lawyer in our living room as much as she was in the courtroom. So many times, I had wanted to take her in hand, but I feared her reaction, that she would…” I paused and gave a chuckle but it wasn’t one of true amusement. “Hell, I was afraid if I turned her over my knee that she would leave me. Instead, I fought against what I know I should have done and drove her to that very decision. When she finally did throw the gruesome words at me, I knew I had nothing to lose.”
“And you truly had no clue? You are the leader of a pack, how can that be, Deo? How could you have been so blind?”
“I left her first—avoiding her when she was picking fights. Instead of heeding the signs that she needed guidance, I cut her off from me emotionally at a time that she needed me most. Locking myself in my office on weekends, preparing for the worst, while avoiding my wife.” I took a deep breath, remembering the flash of pure terror that had filled me when she’d said those two words. Terror that had nothing to do with the curse, but everything to do with the thought of living without her. I met Artem’s eyes, not about to deny the responsibility that was mine then or the ones I faced now. “I was prideful. Didn’t want to face the fact that I wasn’t enough for her. It was a mistake. One that I share in. All I can say is that it will never happen again.”
Artem did not know the Cassandra I knew. Lovely, caring, fiery as the embers that burned before me, and brilliant. I could only hope that, through the ashes of this dangerous gathering, some good could come. Cassandra was already growing close with my family. Perhaps Artem could grow to love her as a daughter.
Taking a sip of my drink, the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. There was a soft knock at the door. Looking over my shoulder, curiously at Artem, I saw him shrug.
“It’s not Dolly,” he said. “She was asleep before I left the room.” His eyes traveled to the closed door.
“Just a moment,” I called, placing my glass down on the gleaming polished wood.
Striding over to the door, I opened it, expecting Baal, or the angry face of Margaret, pushing past me, demanding to count her cigar collection.
My brows raised in surprise to see my wife standing small and sheepish in the doorway, wearing a floor-length white nightgown. I had dressed her in it myself right after sending Cynthia along to bed and before tucking Cassandra into her own. Her auburn hair hung in waves, a result of spending the day in the corded braid I had recently unwound from her hair.
“Cassandra,” I said. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Ah, your princess has escaped the tower,” Artem murmured over my shoulder. Yet another soft blow to my inadequate handling of my wife.
Ignoring his comment, I smiled at my wife, trying to make amends for Artem’s behavior.
Clasping her hands before her, Cassandra drew her feet in, toes together as she had the night I had chastised her in my office.
I found the childish move to be endearing.
Looking up at me, reserved but determined, she spoke quietly. “I came to speak with Artem. Aunt Margaret told me you would be in here.”
Opening the door the full amount, I disguised the surprise in my voice as I said, “Come in.” As she passed me, I saw a shadow moving and didn’t have to look closer to know that Draco was standing just out of the light, keeping her safe. Giving a brief nod of my head, I moved back, closing the door once more.
Politely, Artem rose from his chair, glass in hand.
Cassandra’s bare feet padded over to where he stood. “We haven’t met—officially,” she said, holding her hand out to my uncle. “I wanted to introduce myself properly.”
Taking in the vision that was my wife, Artem’s dark eyes softened a tad. Grasping her hand in his free one, he brought the back of it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss there. “It is my pleasure to officially meet you, Cassandra.”
A rosy blush bloomed over Cassandra’s high cheeks. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said.
Artem’s gaze went from her tumbled hair, to her angelic gown, down to her bare feet. “And should you not be wearing something over those ‘wrong’ feet, in the dead of winter, in this drafty old castle?”
From the smile I could hear in his voice, I knew that Cassandra’s charms were beginning to melt the ice he held for her in his heart.
“She had socks on,” I murmured, seating myself in my chair. I had put them on myself, after kissing her ankles.
Cassandra glanced down at her sockless feet. “Sleeping in socks gives me nightmares,” she admitted shyly.
“Well, no need to tempt fate with big bad wolves running around, sleeping in an enchanted castle, preparing to fight evil spirits. Why add socks to the list?” Artem chuckled.
Cassandra’s eyes sparkled hopefully as she looked at him, smiling.
“Come, sit.” Artem patted my knee as he sat back down beside me.
Shyly, Cassandra seated herself in my lap. I longed to have her close every hour of my day and night. My arms wound around her tightly, grateful there were only two chairs in our small library.
Cassandra was quiet, sitting courteously straight up in my lap, her feet crossed at the ankles, hands lying still in her lap.
Artem didn’t draw out the silence that had descended over us. After only a few moments, he said, “Cassandra, I know you think I do not approve of you, but while I am definitely not pleased by your actions leading to a direct attack on the Ambrosia family, Deo has made it clear that it is not solely due to your actions.”
“But it is,” she protested. “I was the one who threatened to leave… even though I never meant it.”
“Yes, and I can’t tell you how pleased I am to know that,” Artem said, giving her a soft smile. Taking a sip from his drink, he set the glass on the table, leaned forward a bit and continued. “But know this, child. As sacred as a vow is, marriage is not a singular adventure. It takes all those in the marriage to make it strong or to cause it to falter.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I said, interrupting her, and shooting Artem a look that hopefully conveyed the fact that I had no intention of making her rehash what had been such a difficult, emotional discussion between the two of us. “He’s right. It’s time we truly release the past and concentrate on the future.”
“Cassand
ra, look at me.” Once my wife lifted and turned her head, Artem continued. “I know you are a strong woman, that you are gifted in both beauty and intelligence. Deo is a lucky man to have won you. But, let us be clear. While you are not alone in your marriage, you are not the head. You are not the one in control. No matter the circumstances, Cassandra, your mate has not only the duty of caring for you, it is also their responsibility to guide you, to discipline you…” He paused when Cassandra gave a soft moan of embarrassment, but quickly shook his head, leaning forward to take her hands.
“Discipline is not only to punish, it is to make sure you know you are forgiven… free you of guilt, show you how very much you are treasured… loved. Do not ever be ashamed of what brings mates closer together than most believe possible. And as a final note, know that while the control might not be yours, the gift you offer with your surrender, your submission, is more powerful, more precious than you’ll ever know.”
Gratitude filled me. Artem had successfully articulated words that I hadn’t been able to, words that had my wife looking back at me, her eyes wide as she accepted the truth that what we shared, what she needed, offered to me, was a gift beyond measure. I could only smile back as I watched my wife process Artem’s wise, healing words.
“Thank you,” she said softly, again looking at Artem. “Please know that I am truly sorry.”
“No need to apologize. As Deo said, we need to look forward, not back.” She gave a nod and he released her hands and sat back. “Cassandra, I respect you for coming to speak with me directly. That took courage.”
My wife seemed… lighter. Her eyes bright, she said, “I also wanted to say, I am happy to help in any way.”
“That is much appreciated.” Artem smiled. “Keep working hard at your knife play. Baal tells me you are quite good.”
Cassandra’s eyes lit up at the mention of the blade. “Oh, I am,” she said, her head nodding eagerly.
