Chapter 21 Nothing but Walls
❀ Maeve ❀
Carmella held him tighter. Everyone in the kitchen ignored us, but I spied a few irritated glances.
“You liar.” She whined, swatting his arm. “You said you’d come back for me. Are you avoiding me?”
Ashar finally wrestled her arms off him, then moved toward me. “Yes. I’m a busy man, and you know it. Even now, I have an engagement with the Princess Consort.” He gestured to me with deference.
Princess Consort. Hmmm. I could get used to that.
Carmella did not agree.
Her gaze finally landed on me.
“You,” she sneered, advancing, “what are you doing here?”
Ashar swiftly stepped between us, his voice deeper with authority, different from the playful cadence moments before.
“Respect yourself.”
I glanced at my plate.
I didn’t have time for this drama. Setting the bowl on the nearest stone counter, I dug in.
Mmhf. Heaven.
Carmella screeched expletives at Ashar. Something about how I didn’t belong here, and whether Ashar had really referred to me when he’d said ‘Princess Consort’.
I scoffed around a mouthful of well seasoned pheasant that fell off the bone. Gods. I could get used to this life.
How had Carmella ended up in the kitchen? With her looks, I’d expected her to land a man to latch onto.
She’d obviously been intimate with Ashar, but he didn’t seem keen on keeping her. Exactly my worry when we first came here—
“Get a hold of yourself woman!” Ashar boomed behind me.
I could feel his wolf simmering. The kitchen quieted.
“You forget yourself.” He continued, voice dark. “You’re a slave, everyday you work is a day away from the dungeons after what you pulled. Are you so keen to return there?”
I peered around him to see Carmella. Her face distorted in a lethal glare, she forced a bitter smile.
“Forgive me, Ashar. I won’t overstep again.” Her gaze slid right to me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.
I met her look with one of indifference. Then took extra care when swallowing my meal.
I’d be damned if I choked to death from one jealous stare.
She whirled and left through a back door.
The kitchen bustled up again.
Ashar grabbed a bowl double the size of mine, twice heaped.
He turned to me. “Shall we?”
I nodded with my mouth full, “We shall.”
A serving lady followed behind us, carrying vegetables, water, and mead. I felt every bit a Princess Consort.
Just hang on mother, you’ll love this place.
A thought arose.
“Ashar, could you accompany me to Blackbridge? If it’s not too much to ask?”
“Why?” He asked around his cup, swallowing noisily.
We’d settled under an ancient sycamore tree, its branches so long and layered, its shade was cool despite the scorching sun.
Shirtless men sparred in an open area, skins glistening with sweat, and blood.
“My mother is there. I’m anxious to bring her to the pack, Blackbridge’s not safe for someone like her.” A human. Even worse than me.
At least I had slightly stronger instincts and healing.
“I was going to wait for Bastian to take me, because I may not be allowed back in without a claiming mark. But I have no idea when he’ll return. Every minute my worry compounds.”
He belched. “Sure.”
That easy?
“Really?” My body thrummed with excitement and hope.
I’d been away from my mother for just a night, but it felt like eternity.
Finally, we’d be reunited this same day!
“Of course. We’d go right now, but I have to train a batch of recruits. Can it wait till eve?”
“Y-yes. Sure! That’s perfect. Thank you Ashar.” I beamed.
I’d found an ally in the most unlikely places. The goddess was favoring me!
“I tried to contact your male, but his mind shields have been up all morn.” He rose, his long body seeming to go on and on. “Still on for that training?”
“Yes!”
Moments later; I should have said no.
Ashar was brutal. Amping up the resistance with every activity.
He placed me separate from the 30 or so wolves he pitted against each other.
Bones cracked, blood sprayed.
Men bellowed in pain, healed, and jumped right back into the fray.
Me?
I was given a straw dummy. Taller than I was and as thick as a tree trunk, I’d been ordered to punch the air around it 50 times in multiple sets.
After the second round, Ashar appeared beside me.
“Ready to give up?” He grinned, sweat dripped down his soaked braid and chest. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You’re in a family of Lycans, in a pack of vicious warriors, in a fortress of stone.”
“Oh yea?” I wheezed. “One day all that might fail me, I refuse to be defenseless.”
He’d shrugged. “Okay.” Then left.
Suspicious.
He returned with a girl that looked my age.
“Yara, meet your new Princess Consort, spar until she drops. Then take her back to Bastain’s chambers, and dress her for our mission in Blackbridge this eve.”
Spar…? Surely I wasn’t advanced enough for sparing!
Yara bowed with a straight face. Then she shrugged off her shirt, revealing a tight back band around her small chest. Her arm muscles rippled. Stomach? Shredded.
I nearly bolted.
Ashar grinned, accomplished.
He patted my shoulder on his way back, whispering conspirationally, “I’ll save you, if you yell out a surrender.”
Never.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
I should’ve surrendered.
“Ooh gods…” I groaned.
Pain. Everywhere.
“Forgive me, Princess. I should’ve gone easier on you…” Yara began.
“No, no.” I cut in, wincing. “I needed it.”
She didn’t respond, wordlessly pressing a hot towel over my sore muscles.
I reclined in the large stone bath. The hot water steamed, soothing and scalding all at once.
Afterwards, she produced a simple, dark blue dress. Soft fabric hugged my shoulders and waist, accentuating my figure.
The bloodgem glinted in my chest. I palmed it absentmindedly, missing someone else almost as much as I missed my mother.
Nikolai.
Could I summon him with the gem? Would he trace to me? Would he even want to?
He’d called me his Eternal, and I still didn’t know what that meant.
Yara shifted her gaze immediately I noticed her staring at the gem.
“Thank you, Yara.” I turned to her, taking her hands in mine. “I’d like to continue training. Can I meet you again tomorrow?”
“Anytime, Princess.”
“I’m not a Princess, not really. Please call me Maeve.”
“You’re connected to the Lycan bloodline now, but I’ll call you whatever you prefer.”
Connected but not claimed.
I sighed.
The door pushed open at that moment.
My feet moved as I turned expectantly.
Bastian?
A figure entered. Not Bastian.
Why was I even looking forward to his return? He’d bullied and avoided me for a whole day. The bond thrummed beneath my skin, forcing me to miss him. To crave him.
Ashar stood at the door, “Ready to go?”
“Yes.”
Yara followed me out, Ashar pulled the door to Bastian’s—our chamber shut.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
Ashar was fast.
I held on tightly to the mane of his massive tawny wolf. Muscle flexed under my hands and thighs as he bounded over streams, rocky hills, through the dark and looming woods.
My heart swelled with every foot closer to mother.
I’d done it. I’d secured our future. She’d be so proud!
With light steering, I directed Ashar to District 2. Within moments, his wolf cantered to a stop right in front of our home.
The wind whistled as I slid off his wolf’s back. The clearing smelled familiar, like home. I lunged before my feet hit the ground.
Mother. Mother. Mother.
Ashar’s golden eyes sparked as he flicked his gaze around the area for threats.
I slowed into a walk.
The house was dark, but it was still too early for her to put out all the lights.
“Mother!”
Reaching the door, I pounded on the wood, knocking.
The door swung open, unlocked.
My skin prickled. Something was wrong.
Darkness yawned within.
I stepped in further, my eyes adjusting.
The house was… empty.
Stripped to the bone.
Nothing but walls, and a roof.