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Story: Fawn

Fawn

Ifall asleep to dreams of Wolf joining me in bed, and I wake alone in a quiet room. I find the silk robe waiting at the bottom of the bed, slip it on, pad through into the main room… and gasp, seeing a woman lounging on the couch.

“You enjoyed your sleep, I hope,” she says, a little frost in her voice and smile that instills a sense of guilt. She is pretty with large, dark brown eyes and wavy, red hair. Her gaze rakes over me in critical assessment.

“I’m Marigold,” she continues. “Seven’s favored lover.” Her smile turns rueful. “He begged me to introduce myself to make you feel welcome.”

Favored Lover? Begged her?

“That was nice of him,” I say, my mind scrambling and no small amount confused.

Stupid little Fawn.Did I really think someone like Seven would be interested in me and only me? Do I presume the same for Nox and Eiden, too. Such a fool. So gullible, so out of my depth in this beautiful city and people far more worldly than me.

Marigold seems familiar with the suite and confident, as she indicates I take the opposite seat.

But of course she is, if she is Seven’s favored lover.

Feeling awkward, I sit, wondering where Wolf is.

I understood Seven would have had lovers. He hasn’t even done anything to suggest he might be interested in me. I try to recall what Nox said; at least, I think it was Nox, but my mind is churning, and the words elude me. There was talk of me being Seven’s queen, but maybe it doesn’t mean what I think, more of an arranged marriage type of thing where the two parties are not intimate.

I still don’t know why he would want that. But I am grasping for ways to make this make sense. He is the leader of all. Maybe it is customary in his culture for him to have lovers and queens.

Oh, I am so wildly underprepared.

“How are you finding the city? It must seem terribly intimidating after living in a wolf village.” She lifts her nose. “Wolf shifters are so barbaric. More like animals than humans, really. I’m sure our homes and ways must be a shock.”

An unpleasant prickly sensation settles at the back of my neck. “My father was a wolf shifter.”

She smirks. “So I heard… Your poor mother.”

“You are very rude,” I say, my hands shaking as outrage fills me. I will rip her pretty hair out if she dares to make another disparaging comment about my late papa. I am gentle by nature—just like my doe—and do my best to get along with everyone, so I am shocked by the vehemence of my reaction.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” she says mockingly. “You know that’s my gown you’re wearing. One would think you’d be more grateful.” She inspects one perfectly manicured nail. “Or maybe you prefer walking around in those rags you arrived in?”

Before I can answer—or launch myself across the small space at her—the door to the suite swings open, and Seven strides in, followed by Wolf.

He does a double-take as he sees us. I instantly feel guilty, like I have done something wrong, for Seven’s huge body quivers with fury.

Wolf is likewise scowling. “I told you to get rid of her,” he says, directing his anger at Seven.

Get rid of her?

“Out.” Seven’s voice is low yet cracks like a whip. He reaches behind him to throw open the door again.

Confused and still stinging from witchy Marigold’s words, I jump up and turn a full circle, not even heading toward the open door.

I’m still searching for my wits and reacting to Seven’s stern command when the air crackles like electricity before a storm.

“Not you,” Seven says softly. His hands are on me, touching me, lifting me, and gathering me close into the cage of his arms. His forest scent bathes me, filling my lungs and soothing me.

I can hear a scuffling behind me: Marigold’s hiss and many footsteps.

How did Seven reach me so quickly? Did he shift?

The door slams shut. It’s quiet other than Wolf’s purr coming from behind me.

“There, little one,” Seven says, carrying me to the couch where he sits with me, still clinging to his arms.