Page 80 of Feral Guardian
“Alcove five on the left,” he says as he loads the drink onto my tray.
I use my shoulder to stabilize again and go first to four with the food. I move over to the alcove farthest from the hearth and most sheathed in shadows. I can’t see anyone in there, and my unease suddenly spikes. Still, I set the flagon down on the table.
A hand snaps out and grabs my wrist, pulling me into the shadows. I yelp, but then another hand is on my mouth as I’m pulled close to someone. I reach up for their face, my talons snapping out of my nails and pressing into their flesh. I’m not sure if I have their throat or their cheek, but I have something tender under my grasp, and I will not hesitate—
“Princess,” the voice whispers and I know it. “I’m not here to hurt you. Stop struggling.”
Trask.
“Alastair will kill you,” I say behind his hand.
“Stop. Now,” he says again and something cold tickles my lips.
He pushes his fingers inside my mouth and I bite down as my claws rake his face. He growls and the iron flavor of his blood mixes with the sweetness of something else. Flowers, like the peonies of the garden back home, and spring. A funny joke and a happy smile.
Why am I biting? Why am I fighting?
My jaw slackens and I go still.
“That’s a good girl. Not here to fight you,” Trask says, his voice tight and pained.
He’s a nice man.
His fingers slide out of my mouth and I find myself sucking on them. That taste of joy, the little bit of happiness and life, slips out of me. Gods, I need more of it.
“I want to help you,” Trask says.
I turn to face him. “More, please?”
My claws have raked bloody trails down his cheek from his green eyes. He looks alluring with the damage, even more handsome. So handsome.
I lean in, my body alight and my pussy throbbing to be filled. Alastair won’t fuck me, but Trask might.
He chuckles, holding my shoulders back. “No, princess. Not now. But I need you to know…I didn’t want to kill you.”
Kill me. He tried to kill me.
I stiffen and he captures my face in his hands. “I said I didn’t want to kill you. I still don’t. Your mother, however…”
“My mother,” I whisper.
The headmistress’s decree. My unworthiness.
“Yes, she sent me to kill you, but I know your value, princess. Your head would look pretty in her collection, but I think you’d flourish in Wolfsheim.”
“Wolfsheim,” I murmur, the memory returning. The boat, where we were headed.
“Alyse is engaged to be married to the eldest prince of Wolfsheim.”Alastair’s words hit me but don’t stick. I can’t hold onto my thoughts. They’re slipping away like sand through a sieve.
“Yes, princess. How would you like to take back the throne?” Trask grins, his malevolent eyes sparking with fire.
“Girl! Soup!” a shrill voice calls from the back of the room and Trask stiffens.
“You don’t have to decide now. I will be close by. But your guard, the tinhead, he wants to take you home. You’ll die there. You know this, yes?” he asks, squeezing my cheeks harder.
I nod. “She doesn’t want me.”
“No, she doesn’t. But Wolfsheim does. They will treat you like the queen you are,” Trask says with a smile that radiates confidence.
