33. How Dare She.

33. How Dare She.
Caspian

The anger in my body is volcanic, and how I am managing to supress it is unbeknownst to me. Maybe it is because of her past, that I am able to hold onto any sense of rationale, but still, how dare she imply such things? All I want is to see her happy, yet she would dare think so low of me. That I was no better than her previous captors? Worse even as she was naive to their true intentions, so I can only deduce she thinks worse of me overall.

I grab her wrist, barely managing to control my strength as I pull her through the roof hatch that accesses this tower platform, it is to the side of the large glass dome in the centre, that she barely seems to have acknowledged. The inside of the tower is warm, they all are by the nature of their design, as they are filled with mirrored sheets, that line the entire columns all the way beneath the surface, and bring light to the palace rooms below. It is only now that I recognise how cold she is to touch.

The realisation causes my rage to falter as I finally look past her words and feel past the surface of her emotions to the real distress lying below. Her pain is staggering and her physical symptoms only redirect my annoyance to how little care she would take of herself.

I do not allow her to stop and wonder at the engineering of the tower, instead I pull her straight onto the pulley platform that runs down the centre. Despite my anger and her potential objections I pull her against my body to shield her eyes from the bright lights, cradling her head against my chest so she will not be blinded, as I use my free hand to pull the rope and lower us down through the tower.

Catherine is silent as we go, and surprises me by staying exactly where I have placed her. Though there is no joy in it, I can sense her unease and my annoyance only bubbles up more when I feel further through our connection and discover the truth.

This is a conditioned response to the actions of Edward Sorrell.

I am going to kill him.

As much as she left my own emotions in a hurricane on the roof, I would rather that than this lifeless doll she has become in my arms. I want her to feel safe enough to embrace her outrage, the inner spark I saw when we met on the beach; because with me she will always be safe.

When we reach the bottom, I can visibly see that she is now shivering, and my irritation swells once again, that she would risk herself in such a manner, it has been a week since she has eaten and she is beyond lucky that the sea did not carry her off into treacherous kelp forests or towards the bay of sirens. There are real monsters that dwell out in the sea, monsters of the Great Trench, that would think nothing of tearing her apart.

I find myself walking again, keeping a brisk pace as I travel through the palace hallways while pulling her behind me. I can feel her sadness and desolation, it thrums beneath her own anger, and the thought that our being together is a negative for her, only irritates me more.

That the future Queen of our race, is acting as though she has been cursed.

I have to take a breath to calm myself. I knew it would be difficult with her age to initiate her I to our existence. But, it is a struggle for even I to separate our emotional threads. Logic reminds me of the pain she has known, of the lateness of her transition, but my own disappointment is sparked with her negative attitudes and they become easily muddled with her darker traumas.

It takes around ten minutes to reach our rooms and I pull us within, slamming the door behind me so mercilessly she actually squeaks.

Of course, because to her I'm the villain.

Yet, this is not how it is meant to be.

I pull her through to our private bed chamber, and once we are in the middle of the room I drop her wrist. Then, without looking back I stomp around the partition screen wall. It is a false wall, made from deep green and blue coral, and behind there is a large bowl cut into the floor. It has gentle sloped edges, which are lined with mother of pearl, and can fit two people if needed. I pull the lever above and from a hidden spout the pool starts to fill. The water comes from deep within the ground below, it is heated and free of salt. It is the hot springs themselves that it is sourced from which heat the palace proper, travelling through hidden piping in the walls. Allowing our mates comfort as they dwell here with us.

I feel a pulse in our tether, as my concentration is zapped to her movements on the other side of the screen.

"If you even step towards that door again, Catherine, I will begin to lock it," I bite out, when I hear her move slightly behind the wall.

I curse myself slightly when I hear the smallest of whimpers come from her. I realise I am acting exactly how she thinks of me, yet I know I am too angry to stop.

When the water in her bath is full, I shut off the lever, and stomp around to her.

"Come," I demand my voice overly harsh.

"Wha... Wha..." She swallows hard, and my anger breaks within me when I sense her pure unbridled fear, "What, do you intend to do with me?"

I sigh, rubbing my brow, as I curse myself for making things worse.

"Catherine, I will not harm you," I state plainly, exasperated at the whole situation.

I spot her gaze drop to her wrist and I can see the slight bruising that has formed from my grasp. I am at her side at once, dropping to my knees and staring at the skin in horror as it turns a light purple. I think I may drown in my own guilt, as my anger dissipates completely and I trace the delicate skin of her wrist with the lightest of touches. I thought I was being careful. I thought I...

"My Love, I... I..." But I have no words, no excuses. I have hurt my mate, an act that is inexcusable. "I am so sorry," I whisper, looking up into her tear filled eyes.

"I do not understand any of this," She whimpers back, on a barely concealed sob. "I feel so lost."

Slowly, so as to not frighten her I stand, "I ran you a bath, you are freezing, and I hope it will bring you some comfort. I will not come around the screen while you bathe, but if you place your nightgown over the screen, I will replace it with some clothes for you to dress in when you are done." I explain, "The rest I will explain once you have eaten something. You have slept for a long time, and your body will need fuel, especially after the transition."

"Transition?" She asks me, confusion marring her beautiful face.

"Once you have eaten I will answer all your questions," I nod, gently wrapping my arm behind her back and guiding her to the bathing area of our chamber. I step back, once I am sure she understands, and step out of sight, "I will be right over here if you need me."

As I head to walk away, her hand reaches out and stills me completely, it is the first time she has voluntarily made contact with me, and I swear my heart stops.

"Can you tell me," she begins warily, and the fear I sense from her is suffocating me, "I mean, how did I come to be wearing this nightgown?"

"The healers dressed you when we arrived, Catherine," and instantly I understood her apprehension and accusations, in her world men took advantage of women, I had heard as much from the Duke and his son myself. "I will not look upon your true form until you want me to, Catherine. You are my soulmate, I would never disrespect you thus."

I then walk away, unsure I can take being compared to those blaggards who attempt to call themselves men for a moment longer. I go to the closet and collect clothing for her, I had it all ordered what feels like a lifetime ago, before she disappeared from my life for a second time. The silk comes from the pearl worm, it can be utilised in many ways, it can mimic the silk worms of the human realm or it can be turned into a more durable fabric, only breakable when cut with the shell in which the pearl worm resides.

This fabric is called droshta and it is what, Catherine's everyday wardrobe is made from. I pluck a pale green long sleeved dress for her, and a darker green bodice, inlayed with dark green decorative scales, from the agate we collect in the shallower waters near the land of our realm. The skirt will not be as heavy or as cumbersome as her human clothing was, but instead will allow a freedom of movement I imagine she will enjoy. Droshta is also a very quick drying material, allowing her to swim and emerge without carrying excess water and risking unwanted chills.

I emerge from the closet, spying her nightgown is where I requested. I remove it and replace it with her clothes, then pace the room waiting for her. Her small moans of satisfaction in the warm water are a new level of torture I never knew existed. How I long to see the look on her face as she succumbs to the pleasure of a warm bath, as she succumbs to any pleasure, and I indeed find my control is tested as I try to imagine whether her eyes are open or closed. Whether her breathing has escalated, or relaxed? Where her hands are placed, against the bath, or on her own skin? So many questions, so many simple scenarios that excite me beyond reason.

I am still pacing back and forth in torment, when she clears her throat, so lost in my thoughts, I had not noticed she had emerged, or that the clothing had been taken.

"Lord Varun? " She asks shyly, clutching the bodice to her front.

"Caspian. Please, to you I am only Caspian." I plead with her.

"Caspian?" She whispers on a nod as tears once again break the surface of her eyes.

"Are you alright?" I ask concerned, striding towards her.

She tenses nervously, and again I curse my earlier anger.

"Yes, I, well, I do not know how I am to wear this," she states, holding the bodice like a shield.

My smile brightens at my own stupidity, "Would you like my help?"

"Please, if it isn't too much trouble?" She asks handing me the bodice.

"Not at all, My love, please turn around," I state softly, trying to suppress the desire in my voice at the sight of her.

I briefly cage her within my arms as I turn the bodice around, and lower it over her head in front of her. My clever mate readily sees how it is to be placed and stretches her arms through two holes, so there are thick straps lying across her shoulders. I then simply have to fasten it behind her, a task I am not familiar with at all and it takes me more concentration than I wish to admit to accomplish it. Once it is done, my hands move unconsciously to the damp hair she was holding up and out the way, whisping away the wet as I have quickly become accustomed to doing. Her scent hits me hard, when her hand drops in shock and she spins, looking at me in awe. I can only offer her a sheepish grin in response.

"Sorry, it has become a force of habit now. Ever since I saw you dancing in my storm."

"You saw me?!" Wait your storm? You dried my hair before, didn't you?" She throws out animatedly, clearly trying to arrange the small pieces of the puzzle in her head while she freshly has them.

There is a spark in her eyes suddenly, and it takes my breath away fully. I wonder briefly how long I will be able to endure the temptation that is my mate.

"Food, first." I comment, gently chiding her.

She huffs slightly and the image makes me smile.

"My sister will want to meet you today, but I will also ask her to go through your wardrobe with you and explain how our clothes work. I think you would like to not rely on me for such a thing right now?" I ask her, as I open the door and lead us to the outer chamber.

It hurts to say this, because I want her to turn to me for everything. But, I do think it is for the best. I need her to open up because she wants to trust me, not because I am forcing her to. I sense her settle a little inside at my suggestion, and I know it is the right move. She needs to be able to be independent. To be in control. Although I will stress, and I believe I will be backed up by others that the outer tower steps are off limits, I cannot lose her in that way.

Not after how Mira lost Victor.

Uncle Robert found him, floating at the bottom of the west tower, having caved his head in on a fall down those steps. It broke Mira for so long, and if I were to lose Catherine the same way, or even at all... I would not survive now, and the throne would pass onto Robert's son, Kai.

No, the steps are forbidden for a reason, and Catherine will have to accept that.