Page 17 of A Royal’s Soul (Soul Match #3)

Persephone Flores

“Percy.” I awoke to a gentle jostle.

“What?” I asked, tiredly.

“She’s looking for you—on the warpath. Wake up,” Katrina said, shaking my shoulder.

I looked around. The room was dark. Moonlight from the windows behind me illuminated the library in an eerie sort of way. Katrina was like a ghost—a shadow.

“What?” I asked again, more alarmed and pulling myself away from her. She withdrew her hand.

“She’s looking for you. No one knew where you were, and I was the last one to see you. I retraced my steps and was able to smell you out,” she explained. “Now get up before she kills another person,” she hissed.

“Be quiet,” I replied angrily. I didn’t want to hear what she thought or have to defend Selene again. Every time I spoke with Katrina, I was left feeling horrible.

“Just get up. Falling asleep in a library—who does that? You’ve not even got a book,” she said, walking away from me and towards the exit. She turned back to me. “Come on,” she called frustratedly, waving her hand for me to follow. “I doubt you remember your way back.”

I grudgingly got up, my legs feeling stiff having been tucked beneath me for however long I was sleeping. I hated to admit it, but still not being completely sure of the lay of Ardens Estate, I could do with a guide—especially if the halls were as dark as the library.

“Where is she?” I asked as I reached Katrina.

“I’ll find her easy enough. Last I saw her, she was in the north wing,” she replied.

“How long have I been missing?” I asked.

“Only a few hours, but only in the last hour has she begun to lose her mind. You’d been exploring the grounds, walking back on yourself multiple times. She’s been like a hound—walking in circles around the north wing and the master tower. You haven’t really explored the south wing, and your scent had faded to near nothing. It was chance I was able to pick it up. If I hadn’t been going from room to room and had just past by the library instead of venturing in, I wouldn’t have found you,” she explained.

“Am I not being watched?” I questioned.

I felt that she turned to look at me, but the lights in the corridor were not on, and there were no windows to provide moonlight here.

“What are you on about?” she asked in return.

“I mean, usually I’m being watched, and my doings reported back to the princess,” I explained.

“Damn, you’re on a short leash,” Katrina replied, and I was about argue but thought better of it. It wasn’t necessarily an incorrect statement.

Selene’s spies had at first infuriated me. I was always kind of aware that Edward or any of the other Borealis students—and others I probably didn’t know about—were quick to provide Selene with information about my day. From where I’d been and who I’d seen, to even the content of my conversations.

But I knew it wasn’t controlling. She only wanted to protect her interests—and myself.

“So you’ve never been missing before huh? Never had the chance to sneak off?” she asked.

I hesitated. My abduction during the summer wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t something I had spoken about with anyone other than my closest friends and Selene. Even then, I didn’t enjoy talking about it.

I bumped into Katrina, almost falling if not for her arm shooting out to catch me.

“Sorry,” I said reflexively. I was usually the most clumsy person around.

“You don’t have to apologise. I stopped,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, “Why?”

“You went all strangely quiet and your heart sped up. What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

“Maybe it’s none of your business,” I replied, frustrated and still tired.

“Fine. I guess it’s not,” she said and huffed before she began to walk again, tugging my arm once to follow.

“Why do you hate me?” I asked.

“I don’t hate you. I’m just disappointed.”

“That’s not fair!” I said, my voice rising, “It’s not fair that you expect something from me. I don’t have any power. I never asked for any of this. And you’re judging me—being, being nasty, a bully—and I haven’t done anything!” I complained.

She sighed loudly. “No one that asks for the kind of power you have should ever get it. But what’s worse about you is that you’re completely clueless!” she told me.

“Then give me a clue,” I said, frustrated, angry tears threateningly, burning behind my eyes. “Don’t talk to me in cryptic ways. I’m clearly not that smart.”

“Oh, I realise that,” she said sarcastically.

“If you can’t tell me what you mean straightly, just leave me alone,” I told her.

“You don’t even know who you are,” she told me.

“What?” I asked, even more confused.

“That’s your clue,” she said. “Now shut up, or we’ll be heard,” she commanded, and I was relieved to see the glow of light as we turned a corner.

The moment we stepped into the light of the foyer of the mansion, there was commotion. Shouts that I had been found, and within a few minutes Selene was before me, running her hands from my face and down my arms, her eyes scanning my body worriedly.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“I fell asleep in a library,” I said, and I saw the relief wash over her and a quirk of her lips.

“I was worried, pet,” she told me. “You’ve been gone for hours. I thought…” she shook her head, “it doesn’t matter. You are safe.”

She took my hand in hers and drew me closer, lifting my hand. I saw her nostrils flare, and her head turned to Katrina.

“You found her?” she asked.

Katrina nodded.

“Speak when asked a direct question!” Selene barked.

“Yes, Marchioness, I found her in the library,” Katrina replied easily, not upset at all by Selene’s tone, which seemed completely out of character. Katrina was clearly better able to hide her upset than I ever was.

“How did you find her?” Selene asked, and I saw the distrust in her eyes—or perhaps I felt it. I wasn’t sure if the way I suddenly felt a little queasy was the bond trying to form between us or my own unease. Our bond reminded me of a radio with a terrible signal: occasional and surprisingly jarring bursts of sound but otherwise static.

“I remembered seeing Percy earlier in the day heading in the direction of the south wing, and I thought it best to check,” Katrina replied, lying, of course. She didn’t see me heading in the direction of the south wing—she was with me in the south wing. It made me uneasy that she obviously didn’t want Selene to know that we had spoken. That unease only increased when I realised she expected me to keep our conversation between us, like a secret form Selene. I felt ill, not knowing if I would or not.

“What were you doing in the south wing, pet?” Selene asked me.

“I was trying to learn the layout of the mansion. It’s big here, and I wanted to know my way about,” I told her.

She smiled at me softly.

“I should have provided you with a tour or a servant as a guide for the day.”

“I had fun exploring,” I told her. But I hadn’t any fun at all. It had been a terrible day of deep thoughts and questions I didn’t want to ask of myself. She cocked her head slightly and gave me a look that said she knew I wasn’t telling the truth, but she sighed after a brief moment, and I was thankful that she was letting it go.

“You will eat while I continue to prepare for our departure to begin the tour,” she said as she led me away from the foyer and towards the dining room.

“When do we leave?” I questioned.

“In a few days. There is still much to organise,” she replied.

?

I threw myself onto the bed when back in our room. It was late, and despite my long afternoon nap, I wanted to crawl under the blankets and sleep some more. But before I could do just that, Selene pulled me from the bed.

“You need to get dressed for bed,” she instructed.

“I don’t want to,” I whined, and I couldn’t even care how childish I sounded. It must have been years since I refused to get ready for bed.

“Tough,” she replied and began pulling at my clothing.

Frustration bubbled within me and I pushed her hands away.

“Leave me alone. You’re always telling me what to do. Just stop it,” I said, frustrated.

She took hold of my wrists and held me still, but she didn’t say anything—just looked at me with an odd expression I couldn’t place.

“Stop it.” I tried to pull my wrists from her hold but failed. “Why are you doing this? Just let me go to bed,” I said, turning my head and refusing to look at her. I felt too much. I was overwhelmed.

“Percy, what happened today? Has someone hurt you?” she asked me seriously, releasing one of my wrists to take my chin gently in her hand and turn my face towards her. “Your behaviour has been off since you were found. You seem…” she hesitated, as if searching for the word, “sad,” she settled. “What has upset you?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” I answered, and closed my eyes so I didn’t have to look at her while I lied.

“It’s not nothing,” she told me, and she released my wrists only to take the edges of my thick oversized soft woollen jumper and drag it up and over my head. “Tell me what has upset you. Why are you angry with me?” she continued, her hands expertly undoing the buttons of my trousers and her thumbs moving below the waistline and caressing my hips.

“Stop it,” I complained again, and pushed at her hands—but it was a weak attempt. “I can dress myself,” I told her.

She hummed, and it felt patronising, like she was telling me she doubted I was capable of such a simple task without saying anything at all.

I stepped out the trousers as she shimmied them down my legs, and she unhooked them from my ankles. Her hands ran up my legs as she stood back up and I couldn’t suppress the shiver her touch created in me.

I was in only my t-shirt and underwear. The fireplace in the room was lit, but the air still had a slight cold nip to it. I felt the hairs on my arms stand.

“What did you read in the library?” she questioned, distracting me as her fingers played with the hem of my t-shirt.

“I didn’t,” I replied, and huffed frustratedly when she pulled my t-shirt over my head, discarding it to the ground.

“What did you do then, if not read, while in the library?” she continued to ask casually as she turned her back to me and walked into the dressing room.

“I slept,” I told her.

“The whole time?” she asked as she returned to the doorway with two set of silken pyjamas thrown over her arm.

“Pretty much,” I told her.

“What were you doing before the library?” She questioned further as she sat the pyjamas on the bed and lifted up a pair of light pink trousers and motioned for me to step in.

I hesitated before answering, long enough that I was putting my arms through the sleeves of the pyjama shirt and Selene was slowly doing the buttons before I replied, “Walking, looking around, trying not to get lost,” I settled on.

“Were you alone the entire time?” she asked as the last button was done.

I nodded, swallowing.

“You know how I feel about liars, pet,” she warned.

“I’m not—" I began but she cut me off.

“Stop,” she demanded. “Before you say another word, know that I will not tolerate falsehoods from you.”

She took hold of my chin as she spoke, her eyes flashing dangerously as she locked her gaze with mine.

“Were you alone the entire time?” she asked again.

“No,” I whispered.

“Good girl, Percy. Thank you for being truthful,” she praised, releasing my chin and stepping away from me.

I watched as she began to remove her own clothing.

Something about the way she undressed was always captivating, even when I was upset—even if there was nothing at all sexual about the action. She was only changing for bed. But the way she moved, the fluidity of her motions, the lines of her body—it was like she had been sculpted by the Gods. She was so damn perfect, it was distracting.

“Who were you with?” she asked as she pulled up her pyjama trousers.

I was brought back to the current conversation with the question. Did I tell her about Katrina? About what she said? What had she even said? It wasn’t important. Not really. Then why keep it a secret?

“I don’t know if I want to tell you,” I finally answered as Selene finished with her shirt.

We were matching apart from colours—I wore pink while Selene wore a deep Borealis blue.

“Like our covens,” I said as I noticed we both wore the colours that matched our covens.

She smiled warmly.

“Yes, I suppose we are wearing the colours of our covens,” she agreed. “Why do you not want to tell me about who you spent time with?” she asked bringing us back on topic.

“I don’t know that it really matters. I was upset at the time, but now…” I trailed off. I was still upset. I couldn’t hide it.

“Why were you upset?” she asked softly as she approached me and lifted the thick blankets of the bed for me to get in. She flicked the light switch off as I got into bed, leaving the room in the warm orange glow and crackle of the fire, before she returned to join me. She opened her arms for me and I couldn’t refuse the invitation, crawling between her legs to lie my head against her chest.

“Why were you upset?” she repeated after I settled and she had begun to run her hands soothingly through my hair.

“She made me question stuff,” I told her. She made an encouraging sound for me to continue and I sighed, allowing myself to fully lean into her. “Stuff like our relationship, stuff like who I am or who I was. It hurt my head.”

She laughed lightly above me. “That explains my headache then,” she said.

“From the bond?” I questioned, and I was irrationally annoyed as I remembered that she was blocking out connection.

“I believe so,” she replied. She must have felt my frustration because she asked, “did she make you question our bond?”

“Yeah,” I replied truthfully.

“In what way?”

“I thought our bond would be different. I mean, I thought after you accepted the soul match, we would be bonded. And yeah, I didn’t know all that that entailed… but it feels wrong. It feels like you’re rejecting me, again, by not letting the bond form the way its meant to,” I explained. And I realised then, that that was the cause of my upset. I felt rejected. I felt unwanted. Like maybe she didn’t really want to be my soul match, or she rejected accepting the bond.

“I will not ever reject you again,” she told me seriously. “I have chosen you, now and for always.” I felt the press of her lips against the top of my head. “But I do not wish for you to share all that I experience. The bond feels wrong to me,” she told me. And that felt like a blow to my chest, my breath caught between my throat and lungs.

How could the bond feel wrong?

“It feels wrong to me that you should be forced to endure all my emotions, and my pains. It is a punishment that you should not endure, my pet.”

“A punishment?” I asked, after forcing myself to breathe.

“My mind is not always a nice place to be. My emotions can be chaotic. It would be unkind to subject you to them, and an invasion of my privacy. Do you really wish for me to endure every ache or ailment you receive, every low as well as the highs?” she asked.

I thought about it briefly and snorted in amusement. “You already know everything. Everything I feel you smell out, everything I do you spy on,” I told her, and my amusement turned to upset and anger. “You know everything about me. It would be nice to know something of you too,” I told her.

“I do not know everything. I can deduce the basics—if you are aroused, I can smell your wet pussy,” she said, and her leg pushed between mine, her thigh pressing against the apex of my thighs as she spoke in a low timbre. I did my best not to react to the pressure, not to become distracted.

“The change in your hormones, the spice that the excitement adds to your scent. I have never been so aware of another’s physical reactions to me,” she told me and increased the pressure between my legs. I ground my hips against her lightly, almost subconsciously and sighed. It wasn’t enough to provide real pleasure—more like the ghost of potential pleasure—but the action soothed me.

“Similarly, when you are experiencing a negative emotion I can smell the change. Fear is the easiest to distinguish, but otherwise I am guessing about how you feel. You know I have those loyal to me keep an eye on you. But they are instructed only to report on that which may give cause for concern. You still have a private internal world,” she promised, as I ground against her leg with small thrusts of my hips.

“You can’t help yourself, can you darling?” she laughed. “So easily distracted,” she mocked.

“Don’t,” I said in protest, pressing my face further against her chest in embarrassment.

“Would you like me to stop?” she asked, and the pressure she applied decreased.

“No.” I moaned. “Don’t you dare,” I warned as I pressed harder against her, trying to increase the pressure between my legs to what it was.

She laughed below me, her hand reaching down and spanking me playfully. I groaned in pleasure, the sting of the slap sending a zap directly to my clit.

I brought my hand up to her chest and groped her full breast through the fabric of her shirt. They were round and perfect; I felt her nipple harden under my touch and I flicked my thumb over the hard tip. I was overcome with a desire to suck and bite.

I lifted my head, and saw hers thrown back against the pillow, her mouth open in pleasure. With more dexterity than I usually had, I undid a few buttons of the shirt to give me access to her flesh and immediately found her hard nipple between my teeth, biting gently.

Selene moaned loudly, her hand moving from my hip to the back of my head. The sound of her pleasure created a new gush of wetness in my panties and I ground myself harder against her.

“Fuck,” she breathed heavily. “Don’t neglect the other,” she instructed and I lifted my head releasing her nipple, and wrapped my mouth wide around her breast and sucked hard. Soon I was engrossed in my task, enjoying the way Selene squirmed below me. Moving from breast to breast, pinching her nipples, biting, sucking at her flesh, leaving dark mark that would last for a minute before her flesh cleared and I was free to make more.

“I’m not being too rough?” I asked after a particularly fierce bite that resulted in Selene’s back arching from the bed and a belly-deep groan.

“No, pet,” she reassured and gripped my hips, pressing her thigh more forcefully against me and encouraging my thrusting. “I love the way you grind against me. It’s practically animalistic,” she praised.

And I mewled around her nipple, closing my eyes tight. My underwear was ruined, I had no doubts.

“I can feel your wetness on my thigh,” she told me, and embarrassment coursed through me, but I was too close to stop, too close to truly care.

“So fucking wet for me, and I have barely touched you,” she laughed, and the teasing tone of her voice, her laughter, and the way she moaned as I bit down on her nipple, had me falling over the edge into orgasmic bliss.

I kept thrusting until the last wave of pleasure subsided. My breathing was hard.

Selene’s hand moved between us and into the waistband of my pyjama trousers and pants. I shivered from sensitivity as she grazed my clit, but her fingers didn’t linger there as she pushed inside of me. The stretch was exquisite and I was disappointed when she quickly pulled out of me and left my panties and pyjama bottoms to bring her fingers to her mouth.

She closed her eyes in pleasure as she cleaned my wetness from her fingers.

“You taste so good pet, I couldn’t resist,” she told me.

“Come here,” she commanded and took a fitful of my hair at the back of my head and guided my mouth to hers for a sloppy kiss.

“I love you,” I told her.

“I love you too,” she replied and flipped us over so she was on top.

“I’m afraid one quick taste just wasn’t enough,” she explained as she moved down my body. “Look what a mess you made,” she instructed, and I looked down to see a large wet patch on the silken pyjama trousers. I felt the heat of my cheeks increase in embarrassment.

“I can’t help it,” I complained weakly.

Selene laughed “Don’t worry, pet, I’ll clean you up,” she said and proceeded to remove my pyjama trousers and panties in one go, sparing no time before dropping her head between my legs.