Page 11 of The Time Of Kings (An Afterlife Story #1)

10

THE LIES WE TELL OURSELVES

I t wasn’t usual that I argued with my husband but whenever I did, I usually ended up doing exactly what I did now. Something I knew utterly infuriated him every time. But this wasn’t the reason I did it. No, the reason was self-preservation. I didn’t like crying in front of others and that included Draven, despite many times finding myself doing just that. However, when he was the one making me mad or upset, granting him my tears just felt weak. I didn’t want his guilt because there were tears in my eyes. I wanted his apology on his own terms, just like I gave him my own if I was the one in the wrong.

Which was why I walked away, now removing the angry tears from my cheeks with a frustrated swipe of my hand. And as for Draven, well he did as he usually did. Which was of course, to chase me down with an angry growl. Hence why I warned him,

“No, don’t you come near me!”

And the game we played continued when his next move was to flat out ignore me! Something that ended in my cry of outrage when I was tossed up over his shoulder.

Time had no impact on who my husband was at his core, for he was a man who knew what he wanted. And having me walk away from him was never on that list. Hence why I was not surprised by the outcome of my short escape.

Again, how this must have looked to his staff, I didn’t know. But with the way his maids scampered off with fearful looks on their faces, I could certainly guess. It also had me wondering if they were questioning their Lord’s sanity by this point. Especially considering how many times he had been caught chasing me down like this.

But as for questioning his sanity, I was close to doing the same after he entered the room and kicked the door closed in his anger and frustration. Especially when I was dumped unceremoniously on the bed, making my body bounce.

I wasn’t in any mood to put up with his cave man shit, so I scrambled back, only for him to snag my ankle and tug me closer.

“You forget yourself, little thief, as you are mine now!” he growled down at me, and before I could argue further, opening my mouth to do so, he chose this opportunity to silence me with a passionate kiss. A kiss I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of, despite burning in my own anger.

My own sanity was now questionable as I pulled back enough to slap him. His eyes burned into my own and the punishment of doing such a thing was right there. However, before a single word passed his lips, I quickly reached up, hooking my hand at his neck and dragging him back to my lips to kiss once more. His growl vibrated against my tongue and made me bite his lip in response.

Oh yeah, now this was us.

This was how we usually solved the arguments when both were at fault. The frustration and pent-up emotion usually ended in some sexual battle for dominance. One I wasn’t ashamed to say he usually won.

However, this time, when I tried to tug at his breeches, he took my wrists in his hands and pinned them up over my head, causing my sleeves to pull down my arms. Meaning it was during this point that he noticed something for the first time. He now saw the result of his actions when my sleeves falling revealed far too much. Something I had to admit no longer bothered me back in my own time. Not after years spent with this man and the scars of my past no longer holding power over my emotions like they once had.

But the second I saw the narrowing of his eyes on my skin, it was like being dosed with ice cold water. Because this wasn’t my husband who I had spent decades with. The man who had taught me what it meant to be comfortable in my own skin. Who had encouraged me to become the type of person who no longer cared to hide that part of my past.

I watched his eyes darken to the point of becoming murderous, and I wasn’t then surprised when he demanded dangerously,

“Who hurt you?”

I closed my eyes and calmly told him, “Please let me go.”

Something he did, obviously taking in my grave tone and choosing, in that moment, not to push me. He even let me shift to the opposite side of the bed, sitting with my back to him.

“I asked you a question, little thief,” he reminded me, making me lower my head to my hands, hunching over before pushing all my loose hair back in my frustration.

When I shifted off the bed and walked towards the window, I heard the door lock on its own. This giving me cause to look back to Draven, questioning him with a look of shock. Because in his panic to prevent me from possibly leaving again, he had let his powers slip, despite knowing that I must surely question this. He also got to his feet to face me, as if concerned I would take to jumping out the window instead.

“The door… it is locked?” I asked, knowing it would be odd if I didn’t.

“It is,” he stated in a firm tone, and when I asked the obvious question, I could see the slight tick of annoyance in his jawline.

“But how?”

“It matters not… now stop evading the question I asked.”

“Oh, but it’s okay for you to evade all my questions, is that right?” I threw back at him and, again, I could see his frustrations mounting.

“It is simply a matter of importance, and in this, my question takes precedence,” he replied after nodding to my arms, making me tug nervously at the bottom of my sleeves. Something I hadn’t done in decades.

“To you perhaps, but I find my being locked in a room with a man I wish to leave as a serious matter.”

He jerked back ever so slightly, as if I had pushed him. This was before then standing straighter and folding his arms in his anger. I had to force myself to take my eyes off those delicious muscles bunching at his arms when doing this. His suit jacket did nothing to hide his impressive build.

I had always thought that Draven never looked quite so masterful than when he did this. It was such a commanding stance that it honestly had me saying, “oh to hell with it, just jump on him and distract him another way”. Because clearly, we both knew what we wanted. And he knew this, hence why calling bullshit on my wanting to leave…

“And pray tell me, do you kiss everyone you wish to leave with such unbridled passion?”

To which I beat him at his own game and snapped,

“Oh, and you wish to truly know that, do you?”

His frown deepened dangerously, telling me I was close to pushing too far. I might have known what my own Draven’s limits were in regard to jealously, but as for this one… well, I knew I needed to walk a cautious line.

“You purposely provoke me to lead the conversation down the path in which you choose, but I am telling you that it will not work… now tell me who hurt you, and therefore who I need to hunt down and punish for committing such a sin.”

I forced myself to save rolling my eyes until I was looking back at the window, taking in the rolling green hills and wishing I was anywhere but here.

Needless to say, I didn’t exactly want to divulge in the dark and depressing history behind my scars, nor did I want to have to deal with Draven’s murderous temper. Which was why I told him,

“In that case, you can rest easy, as I can assure you that anyone involved was already punished enough.” Myself included, was the part I didn’t add.

“Yes, well unless this punishment you speak off was of the torturous kind, one that ended in a long, painful death, then I believe our versions of punished enough is a different concept entirely.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there.

“Different or not, it is of little matter now.”

I heard him growl, making me flinch, and not just because it would have looked odd had I not reacted. So, I looked back at him, and his dark gaze narrowed in anger as he told me,

“If you think seeing the evidence of you being hurt is ever to be of little matter to me, then it is a lesson better learned now, before you find my sword imbedded in the chest of anyone foolish enough to think they could ever hurt you and live a single day after.”

I released a deep sigh and turned back to the window, hating that so quickly we had reached this point again.

At least the last time I was sent back to a different age, I’d had Pip there with the ability to mask my scars so they hadn’t been an issue to face. That was until she had dropped the magical shield that was preventing a Persian King from discovering I was his Chosen One.

Well, it looked like this time that ship hadn’t even had chance to set sail as it had never existed in the first place. Not when it was clear that Draven knew who I was to him straight from the word go.

I knew that every moment I spent here was getting more precarious by the second. Because if I knew anything of Draven’s of the past as well as I hoped I did, it was that they all had one thing in common. And it was the one thing that, in the end, the Draven of my time had not had the heart to do. And that was making me their prisoner.

Clearly, time had played a factor in my own Draven’s choice not to have me locked up in his Scottish castle and the tower, the one he’d once admitted to having ready for me. My Persian King… well, he’d had me put in shackles and denied me any hope to leave. And as for this Draven, well, I hadn’t been here even a day and I had already found myself tied up. I was tired now after being tossed over his shoulder and finding myself behind locked doors.

So here I was, in just another castle, in a pretty cage and looking out the window, wondering how I would get out of this one. Perhaps luring him into a false sense of security would be my only option, despite how wrong it felt. Not that I had ever needed to fake anything when it came to Draven. Especially not the emotions he freely provoked from me. But it was the lies that I knew would have to follow where my greatest challenge lay.

It was the heavy weight of guilt that bore against my soul, knowing that I would be presenting a future to him that I knew never could be. Because this wasn’t our time like he hoped, and the pain felt by that fact could only ever be a one-sided burden to carry.

Mine.

In the end, my turbulent thoughts were interrupted by the feel of Draven approaching, before he cupped my face and turned me away from the window. Then he let his hand stroke my cheek before his tender touch became one born from want. I received proof of this when he took hold of my chin and forced me to look up at him.

“Is it the reason you came to this place, to escape your troubles?” he asked, making me close my eyes against the temptation to lie to him in that moment.

“I think you will find I was brought here against my will, my Lord,” I told him, making him frown back down at me.

“You know my meaning well enough, for I do not speak of the castle.”

I released a sigh and told him with as much honesty I was able to grant him, “My reasons for coming here are my own.”

“You do not yet trust me,” he deduced quickly, making me scoff.

“Is that really a question? Coming from the man who even now keeps me as his prisoner behind a locked door?” I pointed out, making him sigh this time.

“And if I did not, what then? For I think we already tested what would happen should I give you such freedom to leave,” was his reply, telling me clear enough that his intentions were exactly what I feared they would be. I would now remain his prisoner.

Jesus, how did I always manage to get myself in these impossible situations?!

“Then I see we are at an impasse, for I do not trust you enough with tales of my past, just as you do not trust me with my intentions to leave,” I told him, hoping this was enough to get him to back down for now. But there would be no such luck for me.

“And if you had the choice, what would you do?” he asked in return, and I couldn’t exactly say run for the hills as fast as my mortal legs would carry me. But I guess, in the end, I didn’t need to, as my face must have said it all.

“And right there, in your beautiful eyes, I have my answer,” he remarked, making me bite my lip.

“So that’s it? Just like that, I become your captive?” I questioned, frowning myself and, for some insane reason, it was a question that made him smirk down at me.

“I think you are forgetting, little thief, that I am still Lord of these lands…”

“Not likely to forget,” I muttered, making him raise a brow at me, as if to remind me that he had not yet finished. And clearly, he wasn’t accustomed to being interrupted. Meaning it was hard to miss the hard look he gave me before continuing.

“…And with that comes the responsibility to punish those that commit crimes.”

My mouth dropped before I argued in what even I could hear was a high-pitched tone,

“But I didn’t do any…!” I was quickly silenced when his face got closer and he told me,

“You broke into another’s home, treated it like your own, and when my men came to retrieve you so as you may be questioned, you tried to evade capture by having whoever you travelled with lead my men away.”

He became very fascinated with the way my mouth dropped before I was once more arguing my case.

“And what about the goons who dragged me here in their place!?”

“Goons?”

I groaned in exasperation. I really didn’t have time to keep up with the whole time traveling wordy, ‘pray tell me’ pretence shit.

“Vagabonds, ruffians, vagrants, louts… I don’t know, whatever you want to call the arseholes that took me!”

He choked back a laugh.

“Upon my word, you do have a colourful vocabulary.”

“Ha! Yes, well, I had an even more colourful one for them when they were manhandling me and tossing me over a damn horse!” I complained, and upon hearing this, well let’s just say that he lost his humour and his shit pretty quickly.

“Yes, well those ‘goons’ in which you call them, will be dealt with soon enough, for I didn’t give anyone leave to touch you in such a manner.”

I shook my head at this.

“And this coming from someone who is also convinced I am a criminal? Tell me, Lord Draven, do you handle all your prisoners with such care?” I asked, looking to the bed and reminding him of what we not long ago were doing there. To which he gripped me by the waist and tugged me closer. This before threading his fingers through my hair by my ear and gripping the strands in a possessive fist.

“Only delectable, unruly, little blonde thieves I wish to imprison in my bedchamber,” he practically growled down at me, making me unable to hold back from teasing him, quickly forgetting the argument I was trying to win in my defence.

“Deal with many of those in these parts, do you?”

His eyes danced with mirth before his lips lifted in a knowing smirk.

“Only one that I wish to tie to my bed and interrogate for hours,” he purred seductively, making me suck back a quick breath at the erotic picture he painted. I swallowed hard, making his smirk turn into another knowing grin. Yet before he could dip his head and kiss me, there was a knock on his door.

“My Lord?”

“I told you that I do not wish to be disturbed!” Draven growled angrily, no doubt making the poor guy on the other side of the door jump out of his skin.

“I know, My Lord, but I merely wished to inform you that your guests have started to arrive for tonight’s ball.”

Draven sighed and while still looking down at me, he answered,

“Very well, I will be there shortly, for I have something far more important to do here first.”

I swallowed hard at that, the detailed picture he recently painted firmly at the forefront of my mind.

“Of course, My Lord,” was the unknown man’s reply, but Draven soon awarded me with his name.

“Oh, and, Jacobs”

“Yes, My Lord?” the man said, waiting to do his master’s bidding, one that unfortunately, this time… included me.

“Have one of the maids bring a selection of my sister’s dresses to my room.”

My eyes widened slightly, because of course, I knew where this was going.

“Miss Sophia’s dresses, My Lord?” Jacobs asked curiously.

“Yes, for tonight…” Draven paused to catch my eyes, gripping my chin once more and tearing my eyes from the door. This so he could see for himself my reaction to how he finished that statement, shocking me further when he said…

“…I have my new betrothed to announce to the world.”