Page 20 of Of Wolves and Wives

Slowing, my ears pick up on a muffled sound as wariness pulls at me.

Again, I hear the strange sound and move silently toward it. Frowning, I press myself to the shadows as I continue to follow the sounds down the corridor.

There are no rooms or passageways that I know of down here, and yet, I see no one out in the open either.

Pausing, I listen.

Another muffled sound, this one sounding more like a moan, this time coming from behind a large floor to ceiling tapestry.

Moving to one side of it, I hesitate before carefully prying part of the tapestry back to peer behind it.

A long, narrow passageway lies behind it, a single, tiny window at the far end allowing the smallest amount of light in to illuminate the scene before me. Though I wouldn’t have needed any to know exactly what’s going on as my nose is flooded with their scent.

Pressed against the wall, her leg pulled high around the Grey Prince’s hip, is Lyra. He thrusts into her, a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. Whether they be of pain or pleasure, I do not know.

Though, judging by the way she looks at him, I’d guess the later.

His own grunts are quiet by comparison, as if he takes little pleasure in her.

Dropping the tapestry back into place, I shake my head at the girl’s foolishness. The Grey Prince will use her, just as he has the others …

I quietly make my way out of the hall and back toward the throne room to await the prince’s return. At least now I know for sure that Lyra is not to be trusted.

And that the Grey Prince is undoubtedly using her to keep an eye on Rose.

8

Rose

I’m suddenly woken by the loud clattering of trays.

Sitting up, I find Beatrice smirking at me from across the room. My heart races as I stare at her, swallowing down the fear that had leapt up into my throat.

For one terrible moment, I thought I was back in the Grey Prince’s room. That he had come to take me again, to finally watch the life slip out of me.

But no, it’s just her, as nasty as she is.

“Hurry up and eat,” Beatrice snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Give me a moment,” I say, taking a deep breath as I wait for my heart to calm.

“You’ll eat at the table.”

I frown as I glance back up at Beatrice, and her eyebrows raise in a silent challenge. Belatedly, I realize that she must think I’ll demand the food be brought to me.

Yeah, no chance I hell. I’m sure she’d find some way to make me pay for asking anything of her. I’m not petty enough, nor do I expect such treatment.

Instead of moving to obey her, though, I just lie back in bed. Staring at the ceiling, I hear her enraged hiss at my actions.

“Get up.”

I continue to ignore, silently ignoring this small play of power. She believes that waiting upon me is below her. Fine. I never asked for any of these. Nor do I want any of it. I’d rather be free to care for myself without an angry maid to make demands of me. Away from this palace and the death that I know is waiting for me around every corner.

“Everyone else may see you as something special. For now. But we all know what you really are.”

Unable to help myself, I sit up in bed. I wait for her to continue. Her eyes flash as she stares at me, her face turning the slightest shade of red as her anger boils through her. I’m not entirely sure what I did to make her hate me so much, and I don’t really care. I don’t plan on our time together stretching longer than it needs to be. In fact, I’m determined to see it cut short as soon as possible.

“We all know you’re really just trash.”

---