Page 5

5

Box Number One

Annalise

The letter in my hand has my full attention, reading Cas’s handwritten words, his plea for an opportunity to show me who he is.

I settle on the edge of my bed now that my maidens have left, and I’m at war within myself. Yes, I’m tempted to let him try, but I’m also adamant about standing my ground. He has the power to keep me here, but he doesn’t have the power to make me fall for him.

Not again.

“Annalise?”

The sound of Cas’s voice bleeding through my door causes a breath to hitch in my throat. He waits, maybe thinking I’ll answer, but he should know by now that I won’t. Instead, I listen as he settles outside the door, sitting beside it like he’s done the last two nights in a row.

“I know my special delivery is a bit confusing, but I hope it starts to make sense by the end.”

My eyes shift toward the cart, then back to the door.

“I won’t force you to participate, but it would make things easier,” he says, chuffing a short laugh. “So, if you’re keen to follow me on this journey, now would be the time to take box number one.”

A deep breath leaves me, and I glare at that cart. Unfortunately, curiosity gets the best of me, and I’m on my feet again, snatching the first box from the top of the pile before returning to bed. With his excellent hearing, he’s definitely heard me grant his wish, and likely the frustrated sigh that came with it.

“Unwrap it, please,” he says, and I slowly pop the tape on one side before tearing through the thick, brown paper. Then, holding my breath, I flip open the lid and peer inside.

I pull out a key with a non-descript, orange keychain attached. There’s zero context other than the words The Aurora printed in large, bold letters.

“It’s the key to my father’s first yacht,” he says, his tone hinting at his amusement.

My first thought is of what a pretentious first item choice this was, but then I decide to reserve judgement until the end.

“The boat has long since been out of commission, but I held onto that little piece of history because it marks the first time my brother and I formed an alliance. It was the first time we lied for one another, because it was the first time we had to lie for one another,” he shares.

And, yeah, I’m listening.

“Father had been terribly busy that month. Looking back, I can’t even recall what event or disaster or whatever had him so preoccupied, but whatever the case, Dimitri and I took full advantage,” he says. “I convinced one of Father’s footmen to let me into his sleeping quarters one night, claiming that I was planning a surprise for him and needed to measure his bedroom to pull it off. But in actuality, I was grabbing the key from the crystal jar on Father’s chest of drawers.”

I lie back, settling into my pillows as I’m told the story.

“Dimitri and I wasted no time sneaking out that very night. We made plans with two sisters we’d met in town one weekend. Before then, we settled for exchanging letters with them in secret, but this time, we made the bold move to meet with them in person. And what better way to impress a young woman than by taking her out on a yacht?” he muses. “Long story short, that was the night Dimitri and I became men, if you will. But… the sisters weren’t the only thing we defiled. Turns out it’s damn hard to park a yacht. It’s a wonder we didn’t sink that fucking thing.”

He laughs and before I can catch myself, a dim smile curves my lips.

“I managed to return the key to the jar without being noticed the next morning, but needless to say, Father was enraged when he discovered the damage to the boat. Dimitri and I were naturally his first suspects. However, we stuck to this ridiculous story about how a powerful storm had blown through in the middle of the night—a storm no one but the two of us seemed to have heard. We claimed that the wind must’ve tossed the yacht into the dock. I’m positive Father didn’t believe a word either of us said, but to this day, I swear he only let it slide because Dimitri and I had actually managed to work together on something. Even if that something was crafting a very, very weak lie.”

I bite my tongue, wanting to ask questions.

Was this the start of his closeness to Dimitri?

Was this the end of the love story with the two sisters?

“Anyway, that’s probably a terrible story if my goal is to convince you I’m a good guy.” He laughs again, but it’s softer this time. Like he feels some small measure of regret for having shared the memory.

“There’s an envelope marked number two. If you’re not dozing in there, take a look inside it.”

I hesitate, but after a few seconds of deliberation, I’m on my feet again, bringing the envelope he mentioned back to bed with me. I crack the seal on it, and then remove the letter tucked inside as Cas begins to speak.

“I’ll give you a moment to finish reading,” he says, and it isn’t lost on me that his tone is far more somber now than it had been just a moment ago.

I scan the words that are scrawled in neat penmanship at first, but then halfway down the page, the handwriting becomes wild and angry, matching the dark words scrawled before me. It doesn’t take long to pick up that they’re written by the angry mother of a wolf. A wolf whose life I’ve gathered Cas seems to have taken. But what isn’t clear is why he would keep such a thing.

Silent, I fold the paper slowly, brimming over with questions I’ll never ask out loud.

“His name was Emanuel Ritter,” Cas says, but then he’s quiet. So quiet I’m not sure he’ll explain beyond this. “We were friends once, and taking his life is one of my biggest regrets.”

My gaze shifts down to the letter again, suddenly feeling as though it weighs more than it did before.

“Emanuel had a great passion for writing. So much that he’d begun crafting elaborate fantasies about an alternate reality here in New Eden. He was… brilliant. More clever than I could even dream of. He began to gain a bit of notoriety here in the capital. First with short stories that were published in the newspaper, but later full-length novels that were sold in a few local stores. He hadn’t yet been recognized on a national level, but… it was coming. I could feel it. People like him—bright, determined, exceptional—you can’t keep them inside a box.”

I realize I’m hanging on his every word as I’m engrossed by the story.

“However, I wasn’t the only one who saw Emanuels potential to reach people, to actually affect them. And with mere words, at that,” Cas marvels. “My father got curious one day and picked up one of Emanuel’s latest works, and immediately found fault with it, stating that the ruler in the story—a tyrant who exacted punishment unprovoked—was meant to depict him . So, Father decided that if that was how Emanuel perceived him, then… he wouldn’t disappoint.”

I sense where the story is headed, and my biggest question is why Alpha Evander would send Cas to carry out his wishes instead of a soldier, but when Cas speaks again, I’m not left in the dark for long.

“I was made to lure Emanuel out the next day, under the guise of friendship. He met me near a stream, armed with notebooks filled with his latest musings,” Cas says. “I still remember the feel of his overcoat clutched in my fists as I held him under the water, keeping him there until his body went still. I only questioned why Father would send me for the first few days, but then it came to me. Clear as day.”

I lean toward the edge of my bed.

“He was testing my loyalty, making sure I knew the measure of his intolerance, making sure I understood how important our family image was to him. So much that he’d have me take a man’s life simply because there was a small chance someone could read of this character Emanual created and wonder if he was patterned after our alpha.”

My heart’s racing, and I realize something. This mission of Cas is not only showing me him, I’m gaining insight into the man who raised him, which is admittedly just as important.

He sighs on the other side of the door.

“You’re probably asleep,” he says with a soft laugh I’m sure doesn’t match the troubled look he must be wearing. “If you’ll allow it, I’d love to pick up with box number three tomorrow.”

In usual fashion, I don’t say a word. I simply rise from my bed, blow out the candles on my dresser, then slip back beneath my covers. It doesn’t surprise me that Cas doesn’t move, choosing to stay posted right outside my door again.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and I turn my head in the direction of his voice. “Even if you still decide I’m not what you want, I’m grateful you’ve at least allowed me to try.”

Breathing deeply, I face the ceiling again, and with my alpha claiming the space on the other side of the wall as his new post, I drift off.