019 - A Misunderstanding

019 - A Misunderstanding
|||YASMIN|||

The scent of oranges plagued my dreams, as well as blue eyes, angry eyes, Cassien’s eyes.
I felt the sting of his claws sinking into my flesh, almost as bad as the burn his words left, the hollow feeling rejecting him created in my chest, and when I finally came to, I was a sweat-soaked mess.
My eyes snapped open with a sharp gasp, and for a moment, I'd forgotten how to breathe. My eyes darted around my surroundings with a panic that gripped my chest so tightly I feared I might pass out from it.
Where am I?
I was in an unfamiliar room, and the scent of oranges was stronger now, as though they were buried in the unfamiliar sheets that were soft against my skin. My sleep-muddled eyes landed on a bowl that rested on the bedside table, and sure enough, there were a few oranges in it. 
That was when the memories of the previous day came rushing in, and I remembered exactly where I was.
The general’s wing.
Zeirik’s bedroom.

I immediately sat up, heart racing as I pulled the sheets off my body.
What was I thinking, spending the night in a stranger’s bed?

My eyes remained trained on the oranges almost obsessively as my mind struggled to come to terms with what I had done. Sure, he wasn't in the room with me, sure, he wasn't a total stranger either, but…his scent lingered on my skin now, and I probably sweat and drooled all over his pillows and sheets. Heat crawled up my neck and threatened to burn my cheeks off as I walked towards the door, legs unsteady.
I was too tired to reject his offer last night. I had to apologise and then…
Oh.
I have nowhere else to go.
The thought slammed into me with the weight of a carriage crash, and I shuddered, Cassien’s face coming to mind.

Just then, the large door opened, and I heard hurried footsteps, quick and urgent.
“Zeirik, we have to go now or we’ll be la–” The man’s words died in his throat as his dark brown eyes met mine. He was immediately alert, eyes narrowing into slits as he got into a battle stance.
“Who are you?” he snarled, taking slow, threatening steps towards me. 
I had never met the man before, but I knew exactly who he was. He was the Pack priest’s son, Marcus, who was a total copy of his father despite the fact that their attitudes were clearly opposites.

“I…” I tried to find the right words, not moving an inch despite how threatened I felt, “I am Yasmin… I am Zeirik’s guest…ahem!” I cleared my throat awkwardly, unsure of whether guest was the right term to describe the current situation.
Marcus looked at me for a few more tense seconds before he relaxed, taking a step back and sighing.
“Oh,” he simply said before letting out an awkward chuckle, “For a second I thought you were one of those women from the court.”

“Women from the court?” My brows pulled together in confusion.
“You don't know?” Marcus laughed, “Ever since Zeirik made his ‘debut’ at his welcome party, the kingdom’s elite have been throwing their daughters at him,” he shook his head, “I’ve never seen Zeirik so pissed off, not even when the vampyres killed his favorite horse,” Marcus laughed even harder, his eyes crinkled at the sides as tears threated to spill.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, weighing the man’s words. This was to be expected. Zeirik winning the war would put him in the sights of many of the pack’s elders and elites who still secretly believe the son of a mistress shouldn't be the crown prince. Seeing his competence has probably made them eager to form long-lasting ties with him, throwing their daughters at him with the hopes that they'd have a connection to the royal family…what does that mean for me?

I have no power, no influential holding in the pack, at least not anymore. Will Zeirik leave the opportunity to have a powerful father-in-law who'll aid his ascension to the throne just to marry me for my petty need for revenge?

Marcus cleared his throat, his eyes scrutinising now as he looked at me.
“I guess you aren't one of those women, seeing as you managed to make it into his bed.”

I blinked, his words sinking in and then in a few seconds, so did understanding.
“Oh… that's not… It's not what you think,” my cheeks burned as I struggled to stutter out an explanation. So the man has no idea who I am, he just assumed that Zeirik and I…gods!
 Marcus grinned almost sheepishly, “You dont have to explain yourself to me,” There was a knowing look in his eyes that showed just how deep the misunderstanding went, “You dont have to feel shy either, Zeirik is a man of many talents…attracting beautiful women is just one of them,” he coghed, his eyes roaming the room, “i just need to know the man’s whereabouts…we have places to be.”

“I…”
“You don't have to explain yourself to him,” Zeirik’s deep voice came from the bedroom’s entrance. His large frame filled the door as he stepped past the threshold, his mismatched eyes met mine, and in that instant, I felt myself go still. I was suddenly at a loss for words.
Why?

Probably the embarrassment of the whole situation, I noticed he held a pillow in his grasp, and a twing of guilt gnawed on my insides alongside the embarrassment that burned up my neck.
“Yeah, I just said that,” Marcus snorted, gesturing at Zeirik with a roll of his eyes, “Where the hell have you been? We have a meeting with the Elders, remember?”

Zeirik remained silent and walked towards me with large strides.
I remained in place as he closed the distance between us, stopping when he was only two steps away, and he held out a hand.

I took it, secretly relishing the chill from his fingers and the roughness of his palm.
“Good morning, Princess,” he kissed the back of my palm, his lips just as cold as his hold, like he's been in the snow for far too long. When his head raised and his eyes returned to mine, it was almost as though we were the only ones left in his bedroom; everything else had fallen away and was forgotten.
“Would you like to have breakfast with me?’

“No…you can't,” Marcus immediately cut in, “We have a meeting, Zee,” he groaned, and for a moment I felt almost sorry for the man, seeing how exasperated he was. Trying to keep a man like Zeirik in line with no rules was probably one of the most difficult things to do in the kingdom.

“The meeting can wait,” Zeirik simply said, tossing the pillow in his other hand at Marcus, who caught it with an annoyed snarl, “Right now, my only priority is getting my future wife breakfast,” his grin widened, “Would you like that, Yasmin?”

I noted how wide Marcus’ eyes went as he heard the address, but I was more focused on the coldness of his skin and the strange feeling the words stirred up.
Future wife.

I was no longer Cassien’s…and if I played my cards right, I would finally belong to myself.
“Yes,” I breathed, “Lead the way.”