Page 33 of Of Wolves and Wives

“My dress is ruined,” she sobs. “The Grey Prince gave it to me, and now it’s destroyed with blood.”

I bite back my question as to why the prince is gifting her things. After all, I already know the answer. The fool doesn’t even seem to realize that the dress is the least of her problems.

“I can help if you let me.”

She shakes her head, cradling her scratched arm against her as she stands. The way she shakes and sways, I would think she’d been more viciously attacked than she has been. My own annoyance flares to life as I watch her glance about the garden. Thankfully, we are alone here. Meaning that no one was here to witness what happened.

“I want to be taken to the prince,” Lyra tells me.

Her eyes meet mine at this. My body tenses as I consider how to talk her out of it. There’s no need to involve him in this. I glance at Peirce, who is watching Lyra with a look of horror on his face. Guilt pinches his eyes every time he catches sight of her blood.

“He was protecting me,” I remind Lyra. “From you. Do you really think it wise to involve the prince? Over a little cut that I can have cleaned in no time?”

“He will want to hear of this,” Lyra argues.

I open my mouth to argue with her, to make her realize that she was the one that was about to strike me. But she seems to sense this and her eyes dart toward the palace. We’re closer to it than I realized.

“Either take me to him, or I’ll go myself,” she snaps.

Except, she doesn’t give Peirce or me the chance to do anything. She darts away from us, shouting at the top of her lungs. I shoot Peirce a look before I hurry after her, hoping I’m able to stop her before she alerts the entire castle. I need to find a way to calm her down before she has Peirce and be punished for her own actions.

Peirce trails after me as I hurry toward Lyra, realizing that we’re too late. She’s already managed to catch the attention of several other guards. My heart skips a beat as she glances over her shoulder. I don’t miss the triumphant in her eyes as she smirks at me. Frustration and anger boils through me as I hurry to follow them. She says nothing as I fall into pace with her, just shooting me another look of victory.

Following the guards through the halls, I keep glancing back at Peirce. His eyes are distant as he stares ahead, as though he’s already accepted what’s to come. I try to figure out a way to get us all out of this, but my mind refuses to cooperate. Before I know it, we’re standing outside the prince’s throne room. People mill about, waiting for their time to submit their requests to him, and they eye us with interest as we pass them.

Stepping into the room, I search the faces for Heath and even Rykker. But neither of them are here. My stomach plummets at this realization. Nerves roar to life as I force myself to follow Lyra. She stands tall as she moves through those waiting to have a moment of the prince’s time. I notice the frowns and looks exchanged as she makes her way toward the throne where the Grey Prince is lounging. He looks bored as he stares out at his people.

But the moment the whispers reach him, he straightens on his throne. I’m still too far to hear his furious demand to know what is happening in his throne room. Dodging people eager to catch the drama, I expect to find Lyra before the throne, playing up her injury. By the time that I shove through the crowd, though, she’s not standing before the dais but stepped onto it. I hear the shocked whispers of those around me.

“A human on the prince’s dais?” someone next to me whispers. “I’ve never heard it done before.”

The prince seems oblivious to the quiet hum of whispers, though, as Lyra flings herself into his arms. He doesn’t even blink as he wraps his arms around her, despite the buzz growing in the room as people begin to speculate about what is happening.

“What is it?” the Grey Prince asks, running a hand over Lyra’s cheek. “Tell me what happened.”

“Rose’s guard, he cut me when he shifted.”

A chill runs down my back as the prince glances up from Lyra. His eyes meet mine, and I see a dark pleasure forming in them. Slowly, he pulls his gaze from mine to send Peirce a glare over my shoulder. It takes everything in me to stay standing still.

“How unfortunate,” the prince says, a dark smile splitting his face. “The guard must be punished. Publicly, so as to ensure this never happens again.”

The crowd falls quiet as all eyes move to Peirce. I sense the people stepping away from us as though standing next to us is enough to bring the prince’s fury onto them instead. My hands shake as I stare up at the prince’s cruel smile and Lyra’s smirk.

“Let us not waste this opportunity. Now is the perfect time to deal out his punishment.”

18

Rose

Three guards step from the crowd, grabbing Peirce and holding him still. He doesn’t fight them, his gaze locked on the dais. A squeak escapes me as the Grey Prince stands, his cruel smile growing colder.

“He’s to be lashed for his actions,” the Grey Prince declares.

With a grunt, the guards tear away Peirce’s shirt before shoving him to the ground. I watch in horror, unsure how I can stop what’s happening. My heart beats as I glance back to the dais, unsurprised to find the prince’s gaze on me. Despite the urge to glance away, I force myself to hold the prince’s gaze. Until the approaching footsteps of a fourth guard catch my attention. My stomach drops as I spot the black whip in his hands. Without hesitation, the guard moves to begin Peirce’s punishment.

“Not you, guard,” the Grey Prince says. “Her. She’s the one who will whip him. Hand her the whip.”

My entire body shakes as I stare up at the prince. An argument dies on my tongue as I realize he doesn’t want my obedience. He wants me to give him no choice but to further punish Peirce. This, I realize, is a way that he can further torture my mates for their bond to me. For the possibility that I carry their child and not the prince’s. Despite the way my hand shakes, I hold out a hand toward the guard. I flinch as the cold leather of the whip meets my skin.

---