Princess of the Pack

by Haven Handel

  Sighing, I curled up on my side against the car door as best I could. I knew the answer, but as a lawyer, I had to ask. “Can you gentlemen answer me a few questions?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Baal said to me, apologetically. “But you will be with Deo, soon,” he added softly.

  The stress from the day bore a heavy weight on me. I chose to remain in the memory of the night with Deo, amongst the hundreds of flickering lights. As I drifted off, I overheard Draco’s soft whisper. “She’s strong, this one.”

  “Deo said she has a warrior’s heart,” Baal answered quietly.

  “She looks like an angel when she sleeps,” Draco answered

  A smile played at my lips as the darkness took over.

  ***

  Awaking, my mind felt foggy as I opened my eyes, taking in the view. We were riding through dense woods, the incline getting steeper with each minute. Taking in the unfamiliar terrain, I tried to decipher where I was. The dusky sky gave the evening an ominous feel. The curvy roads were lined with stone walls that reached up to meet the crests of hills.

  “Where are we?” I asked groggily, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

  Draco’s brown eyes met mine in the rearview mirror as he replied. “Upstate New York. We are approaching the Catskill Mountains.”

  Oh, joy. Upstate New York. Home of Judge Judy, the daytime TV court show star, and not much else. Bobcats, maybe a few mountain lions? The rocky hills were getting steeper as we climbed the sparsely inhabited land.

  “Why are we here? Did Deo recently take up hunting?” I asked, trying to smooth my hair and straighten my clothing after my little snooze fest. God, I hoped I hadn’t been snoring. I could tell by the wet patch on the shoulder of my blouse that I had been drooling.

  “Something like that,” Baal answered, his voice returning to its arrogant, cryptic way.

  “I was kidding,” I said, knowing full well Deo was tough, but no outdoorsman. “I highly doubt my husband has taken an interest in tracking mountain lions.”

  “Catamounts.” Draco’s deep voice penetrated the air.

  “Excuse me?” I was growing weary of the mysterious atmosphere these two were keeping.

  “The lions, they are called catamounts,” Draco answered, politely.

  If I kept rolling my eyes like this, they were seriously going to get stuck like my mother had always warned me. “Catamounts—whatever. Will someone please just tell me what the hell is going on?” Nerves destroyed my calm exterior. I could no longer play the nice, kidnapped wife. “And why isn’t Deo here?” I was surprised at how strongly I longed to see his face and hear his voice. He would be the only comfort for me.

  “Soon, Cassandra. Look, we are almost there,” Baal said, empathy softening his previous bravado.

  I looked, up, to where my captor was pointing.

  Perched at the top of the hill that we were slowly climbing, was a castle. A real castle, built of gray stones. With turrets. I unbuckled my safety belt and scooted up further in my seat to get a better look at the magnificent structure.

  “Belt,” Draco quickly commanded.

  My first instinct was to obey, but the bossiness of these men was getting ridiculous. “I’m fine,” I replied grumpily, waving away his concern with my hand. “Have you even seen another car since we’ve been driving on this road?”

  “It’s not cars he’s worried about,” Baal answered.

  Draco’s eyes intensely gazed at me in the rearview mirror. “Belt, Cassandra,” his low voice demanded again.

  I sat back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest, staring defiantly back at him.

  “Fine,” my mysterious chauffeur murmured. Slowly, he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road.

  Uh-oh.

  Casting me a reprimanding glance, Draco unclicked his own safety belt, opening his door. I watched as his solid frame passed through the headlights of the car. In a matter of seconds, he had my door swung open. I should have locked it, but I had a feeling something as weak as the tiny metal latch of a car door wasn’t going to get in this man’s way.

  Leaning down, inches from my face, his chestnut eyes locked onto mine. Without looking away, he pulled the buckle down from above my shoulder, and brought it, tight, over my chest and across my waist. The click of the buckle meeting the latch pierced the silence.

  I couldn’t breathe; he was too close to me. His hand remained on the buckle, his arm across my body.

  The muscle in his jaw twitched as he said, “Obey, Cassandra. Deo would not be pleased to hear how lightly you take your own safety.” He gave me another hard stare.

  Shivers went down my spine. I looked away.

  Draco pressed down, causing the metal buckle to dig into my hip. Not enough to hurt. Only enough to remind. Draco knew about my husband’s new handling of me. I had no doubt. He was making it clear that he had no problems with the arrangement, and would happily report back.

  The door closed quietly but firmly, leaving Baal and I alone in the car. I released my breath, louder than I anticipated.

  Baal chuckled under his breath at my exhale.

  “Shut it,” I murmured, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

  Baal’s chuckle turned to a laugh, but he quickly extinguished it as Draco opened the driver's door, returning to his seat.

  “Ready?” Draco asked, eyeing me in his mirror once more.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Cassandra.” He said my name like a threat.

  “Yes,” I mumbled, feeling like I belonged in a child’s car seat riding behind these two. When had my world changed so much? Twenty-four hours prior, I’d been one of New Jersey’s most respected lawyers, one of the best at what I did. Now, I was being—babysat. I had no idea when, if ever, I would return to my estate, my career. All I knew was that I was being driven through the winding mountain roads in the middle of nowhere upstate New York, by two drop dead gorgeous Greek men. Headed to a castle where I would meet my husband, who expected me to obey without question. On top of that, my life might be in danger.

  Gathering that my guardian would not think twice to tell Deo I was difficult, and add a punishment to the list of what was going wrong today, I decided to behave.

  We began to gain altitude, and the road became impossibly steep. As we rode over the crest of a hill, there stood a gatehouse that I hadn’t seen from the road. Two stone bastions stood with cone shaped, shingled roofs on them, topped with copper, arrow weathervanes that had long ago tarnished to a light teal. There was a bridge-like structure connecting the tops of the two towers, curving up at the bottom to create the arched roof of an entryway.

  I leaned forward to get a better view of the upcoming castle. At my slightest movement, I saw Draco quickly considering the rearview to double check my safety belt. Without thinking, as soon as he looked away, I stuck my tongue out at him, something I hadn’t done since I’d worn my hair in pigtails. There was no way he could see me, but I swear the corners of his full lips turned up into a small smile.

  Gravel crunched under the smooth tires of the car. I looked out of every window to see which would offer the best view of the castle as we rode underneath the arcading. Looking out the rear window, I saw that the entrance cut through a wall that ran further than I could see in either direction, the walls covered by years of climbing foliage. When I faced forward, the castle was before me.

  It stood on a grassy hill, large, looming, and magnificent. Taken from a page out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, the massive structure boasted gothic windows, steep parapet roofs made of slate, with more turrets and towers than I could count. The style seemed late nineteenth century, and it reminded me of the medieval European castles Deo and I had explored on our last trip to Scotland.

  Stone walls snaked around the castle, blocking my view from the gardens. What I could see from my vantage point looked to be overgrown: shrubbery, reaching out branches that were long overdue for pruning, met shaggy green vines that seemed to climb over every inch of the a
ged stone.

  Draco turned the car, parking us in the drive before the entrance of the castle. The immense, gothic façade was daunting, but I was eager to be inside those doors. I could feel that Deo was within the walls, and I longed for his comfort as well as his explanation.

  Springing from the parked car, Baal opened my door, offering me his arm. I declined, unfolding my limbs from the backseat, and pushing myself up onto heels that were not meant for picking their way through gravel. After a few tottering steps, I growled with displeasure as I reached out, allowing the waiting Baal to take my arm, his face covered with an amused smile.

  The trunk shut with a quiet thud, and I looked over my shoulder to see that Draco had grabbed the duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. One stern look from him told me not to bother with the charade of trying to carry it myself.

  We made our way to the marble steps in silence, the only sound coming from our shoes crackling over the dry pebbles. Baal released my arm and walked up the steps, Draco brushing past me as he followed. I stood back, looking up at the doors of what I assumed to be my temporary home.

  Ignoring the giant brass ring, apparently finding it unnecessary to knock, Draco opened the heavy oak door. He turned to me, saying, “Welcome to Ravensloft.”

  Standing on the other side of the opened door, Baal gestured for me to step inside. “Ladies first,” he said with a wink of his alluring eyes. Holding the rail, I teetered up the stone stairs, joining them at the entrance, then made my way over the threshold.

  Taking in my surroundings, I was rendered speechless as I often am in the reverence of great work. Immediately, I looked above me as was my way when in the presence of magnificent architecture. The high, domed ceiling had gold gilding around the edges of paintings. The rosy-hued pictures displayed scenes of angels and demons. My eyes roved over the artwork, memorizing the details.

  “Leave us.” The deep voice pierced my thoughts, my eyes snapping downward.

  Deo stood before me, legs spread, hands behind his back. He wore his formal business suit—the dark gray one that was my favorite. It had been tailored just for him, and it hung off his body in a way that left no room for doubt why his name meant God-like.

  Draco and Alekos both gave Deo a nod, then headed towards the back of the great entry room, disappearing down a dark hallway, leaving me alone with my husband.

  If last night had not happened, if I had not said those words, if our relationship had not taken the unexpected turn that it had, I would have rushed straight into Deo’s arms. Instead, as I would with a stranger, I looked at Deo, waiting for him to speak, to offer some type of explanation. He offered none. Continuing to stand silently, Deo’s eyes roved over my body.

  I could no longer take the mystery. “What the hell is going on here, Deo?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands on my hips.

  Deo gave a dark chuckle and made his way over to me. He stopped just an arm’s reach away. “Any other woman would arrive here, scared out of their minds, but not my Cassandra. She is all fire.” Closing the gap between us with one final step, Deo gently took my arms and lowered them to my sides.

  The gentle pressure of his hands around my wrists sent a tingle up my spine.

  “All will be explained, in time, Cassandra.” His dark eyes were almost black as they smiled down at me.

  Averting my gaze, I mumbled, “I get the feeling this isn’t some elaborate murder mystery dinner party.” My comment was rewarded with a genuine laugh from Deo.

  “No, my sweet. This is much more dangerous.” His coal eyes stared at me, but he offered no other information. Dropping his hold on my wrists and clasping his hands behind his back again, Deo took a few paces away from me. Stopping, he turned to face me. A humorous twinkle was in his eyes. “Tell me, wife, did you enjoy your escorts?”

  My face burned with embarrassment. Deo knew me well. I appreciate beauty in the architecture of buildings as well as the human form. “They certainly were… handsome enough. Where do you find these guys?”

  “Greece. Where the gods originate. Some of my close friends I told you, you would soon meet. I knew their charm would not be wasted on my wife,” he teased, his mouth curling up into an entertained smile. Deo was laughing at me.

  “Who wouldn’t?” I mused. “If Greece makes women the way they make men, I’m sure you have done your fair share of admiring the artwork.”

  Chuckling, Deo was not finished with the subject. “For me, you are the only woman in the world. For you, it is a different story. You like to, how can I put this delicately, do a bit of ‘shopping’?”

  Deo’s smile was now a full-on smirk. It was obvious he was taking pleasure in making me uncomfortable.

  “Hmm? Cassandra?”

  Even with the fighting, the platonic friendship with Andrew, even in my past mistakes, I knew no one could ever hold a candle to Deo, for me. Still, I was embarrassed by my husband’s assessment. It made me sound like a hormonal teen.

  I shrugged my shoulders, trying to look nonchalant. “I can’t help it; I like to look,” I said in my defense.

  Pacing back and forth in front of me, Deo assessed me. “Ah—same as the lunches, Cassandra. Never willing to turn the tables and see it from my perspective.” As he ended his aimless pacing, the amusement on his face was replaced with a hint of jealous anger.

  I tried to picture Deo ogling another woman. I couldn’t. I tried to imagine him having a lunch date with another woman. I wanted to kill the imaginary female whom I couldn’t even create a picture for in my mind. I had no argument, so, maturely, I decided to shrug my shoulders again, rolling my eyes and exhaling a ‘huffy’ sigh.

  Deo chuckled at my adolescent display. Taking a few strides towards me, he said, “I am glad to see you came, willingly. I wasn’t sure what Balthazar would have to do to get you here.”

  Narrowing my eyes at Deo, I asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Just that I am happy you obeyed my instructions. I would have gotten you here, one way or another, but this was easier.”

  My bravado was gone, evaporated by the threat of danger I could feel in the air. “Deo, what is happening?”

  Deo quickly closed the gap between us, the heels of his boots striking the marble floor. The tension between us was enormous. He lifted his hand to my face, stroking it with his fingertips. “Last night marked the end of our lives as we knew them, Cassandra. There is much to learn, in time. We will be forging a new way of existence. I know you are strong enough for the journey.”

  “Why am I in danger, Deo?” I whispered. His touch began to cool my temper and settle my nerves. I let myself fold into his broad chest, and his arms immediately wrapped around me, pulling me in tightly to him. I melted into him, inhaling the familiar, woodsy masculine scent that belonged only to my husband, allowing it to calm me. I stood quietly while he held me, his hand stroking my back.

  “Everything will be fine, Cassandra. I protect what is mine,” he softly promised, his hand smoothing my hair. “I will explain everything as soon as possible.” Deo took my face into his hands. His eyes were soft as they gazed into mine. Reaching down, he kissed me, gently. A kiss that slowly melted every inch of my being.

  He pulled away too soon. “Let me show you your room,” he said. “After such an upsetting day, you need rest.”

  What I needed was answers, but I was too tired to argue. Deo grabbed my hand and led me up the twisting, marble stairs that were cut into a tower. I peeked out the small gothic windows as we rose higher. There was a sprinkling of snow falling from the gray sky, speckling the hills.

  Passing door after door, we finally reached the last one on the right, at the end of the hall. “Your room,” Deo said, opening the door.

  “Mine?” I asked. “Where will you be sleeping?”

  “I won’t,” Deo answered simply, leading me into the room.

  A four-poster bed stood in the center of the room. The stone walls were covered with brightly colored floral tapestries. The orange flames of a smal
l fire flickered in the fireplace. A chandelier of hundreds of tiny bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the room. I was grateful to know there was electricity in this castle. The bed was spread with a comforter that looked like the deep burgundy velvet one we had at home, but I could tell it was only a replica.

  I walked around the room to a huge oak wardrobe, opening the doors, hoping for the comfort of my black, gray and red familiar clothing. Inside, hung with care, were dresses. I reached out and touched the material of the skirt of a rose colored one, pulling the fabric towards me. The skirt was many layers of sheer gauze, and flowy, like a fairy princess would wear.

  I looked at Deo with curiosity. “If this is my room, Deo, where are my clothes? Who do these belong to?” I looked through the other pieces, all different, but all with the similar look and feel of prettiness and innocence.

  “Think of them as a little anniversary present.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, ashamed I had forgotten. Reaching out and sliding my fingers over silk, I said, “They are beautiful, but I’d like to have some of my things here, as well.”

  Deo’s tone was heavy as he said, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

  Understanding suddenly weighed heavy on me. “We can’t go back to the house, can we?”

  “No.” Deo put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cassandra, but we can’t risk being followed. I tried my best to furnish the room as close to what we have at home, for your comfort.”

  “And the clothes?” I asked, choosing to focus on fashion to push away the daunting realization that we would not return home.

  An almost guilty looking smile crossed Deo’s face. “I have been preparing for this day, should it happen. I took the liberty of choosing clothing for you that I prefer to see you wear. Will that be a problem?” he asked.

  “I guess not. If I’m locked away in a castle, I may as well look the part,” I murmured as I explored the wardrobe further. I couldn’t help but to feel the back of the wardrobe to be sure it was solid wood and didn’t lead to a Narnia-like imaginary realm. The day was already so unreal, I wouldn’t be that surprised if my hand had kept going into a cold abyss. Instead, my hand hit solid wood.