Chapter 2 Chapter 2: The Predator’s Bedroom
The hallway was too long. That was the first thing I noticed.
Most people would be thinking about the fact that they just married a monster, but all I could focus on was the sound of my heels clicking against the stone. Clack. Clack. Clack. It sounded like a countdown. My father used to say that silence was a gift, but standing behind Fenris, silence felt like a suffocating blanket.
He didn't look back once. Why would he? You don’t look back at a piece of property you just bought. You just lead it to the stable.
When we reached the doors to the Royal Suite, my stomach did a slow, sick roll. The guards didn't look at me. They looked through me, like I was already a corpse. One of them had a scar running from his eye to his chin, and he looked at the floor as we passed. Even the King’s own men were terrified to meet his eyes.
The doors closed with a heavy thud that vibrated in my teeth.
I stayed by the entrance, clutching the fabric of my skirt so hard my knuckles turned white. The room was huge, but it felt tiny because Fenris was in it. He threw his heavy fur mantle onto a chair and started unbuttoning his cuffs. He did it so casually, like we were just an old married couple getting ready for bed, and not two strangers trapped in a lie that could get my whole pack slaughtered.
"The veil," he said.
His voice was lower now. Not the "King" voice he used in the Hall. This was the voice a man used when the doors were locked.
"I... I can't get the pin out," I lied. My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. I wanted to sound brave. I wanted to be like the heroines in the books I hid under my mattress, the ones who spat in the face of the villain. But I wasn't a hero. I was a twenty-year-old girl who had never even been kissed, and I was about to be found out.
Fenris turned. He didn't walk; he prowled. Within two seconds, he was in my space. He smelled like rain and something sharp—like iron. It wasn't a bad smell. That was the worst part. It was a smell that made my lizard-brain want to curl up and hide.
He didn't wait for me to fix the pin. He reached out and ripped the lace back.
The air hit my face, cold and biting. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the explosion. I waited for him to scream, 'Where is Elena?' I waited for the guards to come in and drag me to the dungeons.
Seconds passed. Five. Ten.
I opened one eye.
Fenris was staring at me. Not with anger, but with a weird, twisted kind of curiosity. He took a handful of my hair—my dark, messy hair that never stayed straight like Elena’s—and tugged my head back just enough to force me to look at him.
"You're not her," he whispered.
"I'm Nina," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I'm her sister."
"I know who you are, Nina," he said. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against the pulse point in my neck. I felt a shiver run down my spine that wasn't entirely about fear. "I've been to your pack three times in the last year. Your father kept you in the kitchens. He told me you were a servant. He told me his 'other daughter' was sickly and couldn't be seen."
I bit my lip, the sting of the memory hitting harder than his grip. "He didn't want the Lycan King to see his failure. A daughter who can't shift is a curse in the Blackwood line."
Fenris let out a low, dark chuckle that sounded more like a growl. "A failure? Is that what he called you?"
He let go of my hair and stepped back, pacing a small circle around me. "Elena was a doll. She was hollow. I could see the bottom of her soul just by looking at her eyes. But you..." He stopped, his silver eyes scanning me from head to toe. "You’ve been playing the martyr for a pack that hates you. Why? Why didn't you just let her run and tell the truth? Why put on the dress?"
"Because there are children in that pack," I snapped, the anger finally bubbling over. "Because if I didn't, you would have killed everyone. I'm not a martyr. I’m a trade. My life for theirs. So just get it over with."
I reached for the zipper at the back of the dress, my hands shaking. "Do whatever you’re going to do. Kill me, exile me, use me. Just leave my pack alone."
Fenris was silent for a long time. The only sound was the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Then, he moved. He was behind me before I could blink, his large hands replacing mine on the zipper.
"I don't want a trade, Nina," he murmured into my ear. "I want a partner in crime."
He zipped the dress back up.
"The world thinks I married the Perfect Luna tonight," he said. "If they find out I was tricked, I look weak. If I look weak, the other Alphas start a war. So, here is how this works: You stay. You pretend to be her. You wear the jewels and sit on the throne and smile when I tell you to smile."
"And in return?" I asked, breathless.
"In return," he leaned down, his lips grazing my earlobe, "I'll help you kill the people who made you hide in the kitchen for twenty years. Starting with your father."
I frozen. My father. The man who had just traded me like a sack of grain.
"Is that a deal, little wolf?" Fenris asked.
I looked at him in the mirror. I looked at the girl in the white dress who was finally being seen.
"Deal," I whispered.