Page 148

Story: May the Wolf Die

He laughed to himself when the gown was fully in place, his eyes never leaving my chest. “I wonder who exactly Nivardi intends to torture with this choice—me, you, or himself.”

I didn’t really feel like having my nipples out for everyone to gawk at all night, and turned away so I could try to fix my matted hair at the vanity. It was long enough to cover my breasts, and if I pinned afew strategic pieces in place that would help.

“How is this torture for you?” I asked, digging through the small boxes to look for some hair ornaments. “Does he know we aren’t sleeping together?”

“Sleeping togetheryet,” Alaroth corrected, annoyance creeping into his voice. “And no, he means to torture me because this was your mother’s.”

Okay, now I might actually throw up. “Did you fuck my mom?” I asked, unable to hide my disgust.

“Is my beloved jealous?” he chuckled.

No, jealous wasdefinitelynot the right word.

He got up, completely naked with his cock hard. I turned my attention back to my hair, ignoring him as he strode over. His hands landed on my shoulders and he leaned down to sniff me. “No, I never tasted Thistle. I will admit, when she wore this particular dress to my Summer Moon party one year, I had every intention of sharing my bed with her. But Nivardi begged me not to, so he might court her instead.”

“Is that why you’re being such an asshole to him?” I scoffed.

“Asshole?” he replied, his teeth grazing my neck. I shivered at the sensation, but it wasn’t pleasant. “Perhaps. I enjoy watching his distress as I touch you, reminding him that I gave him a large favor he subsequently squandered. And, in the end, I won anyway. Perhaps Thistle was never meant to be mine, but her far lovelier daughter certainly is.”

His hands lowered down my shoulders and chest, reaching inside the fabric to cup my breasts.

Maybe in this world where people looked young and lived forever, it was normal to run into a guy who appeared your age and had dated your mom. But for me, the idea was still gross as hell.

Not that it mattered, really, since I was already never going to be interested in anyone here.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. “So what are you going to wear, then?”

“These are my quarters whenever I visit,” he explained. “It’s already outfitted with everything I could need.”

After pulling out some clothes from an armoire, he dressed in a nice, long jacket and tight pants, pulling on knee high boots before declaring himself ready for dinner. With a strong hand on the small of my back, he led me out and towards the dining room.

Nivardi and a few other fae I hadn’t met yet were already sitting, and they rose as we entered. “Your Majesties, allow me tointroduce you to my wife, Sarai, and our two daughters, Bethyn and Laurel.”

They stood and bowed their heads, and from the corner of my eye I saw Alaroth smirk. “Ah, Sarai, the consolation prize! How good to see you.”

I clenched my jaw to keep from telling him off. The absolute loathing I felt for this male…

Sarai plastered an insincere smile on her face. “Yes, how wonderful for me that my husband has moved on from chasing Thistle’s shadow.” Her eyes drifted towards me, raking me up and down in cold calculation. “Could we say the same for you, Your Majesty?”

Damn, that would sting if I actually cared.

“That’s something we all have in common, then,” I replied. “None of us are with who we really want.”

Alaroth hissed beside me but I walked away and introduced myself to Bethyn. “Hi, I’m Marlowe.”

Bethyn, her oblong pupils and fluffy hair reminding me of a sheep, smiled nervously, keeping an eye on the king in case he decided to lash out. “Yes, um, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The king silently sat at the end opposite where Nivardi stood, putting his elbows on the table and folding his hands in front of his mouth. I ignored the daggers he shot at me, giving all my attention to Bethyn as we followed suit and took our respective seats. “Wow, I love your earrings. What kind of stone are they?”

Her cheeks blushed and she touched her earlobes. “Oh, these? I’m not actually sure.”

Laurel, her sister, sat across from us and rolled her eyes. “Bethyn doesn’t even know how unbelievably priceless those are. They’re crystallized Aetherium. They not only look pretty, you can break the stone and use it to boost and funnel your magic in an emergency.”

Sarai slowly swirled the wine in her glass, looking every part the bitchy villain of her own season ofThe Real Housewives of Vespera. “They were a part of the dowry your grandparents gave Nivardi. Before Thistle got herself rutted and impregnated with bastard pups, of course.”

Damn, this female really didn’t like me. I probably should have been taking the jabs more personally, but honestly, I just felt sorry for her. Alaroth’s insult about her being a consolation prize had a ring of truth to it, and the bitterness was coming off her in waves now, the airthick with her jealousy.

Nivardi shot her a nasty look, then turned to me. “I apologize for my wife’s tongue. It turns sour when she has too much to drink.”

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