Chapter 5 Five

Eudora

My arms burned where his guards held them, claws piercing my flesh to take me away through the forest. Of course, I tripped over roots and stones. I heard a thump behind me and I knew it was Oberon because it sounded like the breathless march of the grim reaper. My wolf whimpered within me, torn between wanting to go back to him and wishing to flee with every cell in my being.

The palace appeared through the trees and I felt sick to my stomach. It looked different now. Wrong. Guards with his crest on the front stood at each doorway, their gazes pacing me as if they were equal parts interested and disdainbride. This had been my home once. Now it felt like a tomb.

The main doors coming into view, Oberon took the lead as we approached. He didn't look at me but I felt him acknowledge it like a pat on the arm. The mate bond buzzed like a bright reminder that I wanted to scratch off my skin.

"Lead her through the main chamber," he ordered.

The guards wheeled at once, to the right about. I felt my heart sink when I realized what hall he was referring to. The one with the bodies still in it.

“No,” I murmured, trying to draw away. "Please."

“On Your feet,” growled one of the guards, giving me a push from behind.

The smell hit me first. Blood was death and dense, clogging. Then I saw them. My pack brothers, those I had known since the beginning of my life spread across marble in a crimson puddle. The old Marcus, who would secretly feed me sweets when I was a child. Helena, who showed me how to plait my hair. The young Thomas, hardly a man of sixteen, his eyes open as if they saw nothing.

My knees buckled. The guards kept me on my feet and made me walk. Making me look at every face.

"Why?" I managed to choke out, burning, hot tears in my eyes. I would not let them fall. Not in front of him.

Oberon stopped at the end of hallway and faced me at last. His expression was cold, unreadable. ”So you recall the price of defiance.”

"They didn't do anything wrong," I said, my voice returning. Anger scorched away the grief, hot and purifying. “Most of them didn’t even know what my father did.”

"Neither did my family." He murmured, but his voice was like a knife. ” Nor did my mother when your father cut her throat. And neither did my baby sister when she burnt to a crisp.

I sat there with my mouth open, then shut it. What could I say to that? I had not known. I never knew anything about my father's business, he always kept me out of pack business. But that did not matter now. Not to him.

“Show her in the grand chamber,” said Oberon, moving back. "The elders are waiting."

The grand chamber was packed. Lycans I didn’t know, dressed to the nines and trying not to grin from ear to ear. Serfs scurried to and fro, making ready something, decorating with hangings and flowers. It appeared to be the buildup for a party.

My stomach twisted.

Oberon apparated to the middle of the room, and there was instant silence in that place. His presence dominated the room without his needing to try. I hated that I noticed. Hated that some tiny piece of me reacted to his force.

“My people,” he began, his voice sounding strong in the chamber. Today is the first day of a new era for us.

Pulling me up to my feet, they half-carried me and I had no choice but to stand beside him. His hand came around my back, and he drew me closer. Sparks raced up my spine at the touch, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting. The mate bond hummed between us, warm at the connection. My wolf practically purred.

Traitor, I thought viciously.

“I will wed Eudora, daughter of the deposed king,” Oberon declared.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some looked pleased. Others frowned, their suspicion clear.

“This marriage will bring peace with the witches,” he added. His fingers slid up my arm, slow and possessive. “Her blood is needed to uphold the treaty. Each kingdom shall bind both kingdoms through four sons will ours be found."

I wish I’d pulled his hand back. I wanted to shout that I would never bear his children, not give him anything but pain. But the guards walked on either side of me, and I felt that any caper would only divert him. So, I stood like a doll and let him touch me, let him show me off as if I was some sort of prize he had won.

Yamal, his Beta – stood aside of the room and watched. He looked back and forth between Oberon and me hopefully neutral. I wondered what he made of all this. If he gave a fig that his king was using a captive’s body.

An aged Lycan came out of the crowd. He had pulled his grey hair back, and his lined face of scars told of many fights. “My king, pardon my bluntness, but will the witches really agree to this match? Considering all the blood that has been shed?”

“The High Witch will be here tomorrow," Oberon said smoothly. “She knows that it’s important to maintain Eudora’s line. The other option is to go to war with the witch realm, and neither our people can bear that expense.”

"And if she refuses?" another elder asked.

Oberon’s grip on my arm tightened, enough to be painful. "She will not refuse. The witches want this alliance as much as we do. And Eudora will be a good wife.” He looked down at me with cold blue eyes. "Will you not, princess?"

All of the eyes in the room were on me. I could sense their judgment, their curiosity. Some wished me to revolt, so that Oberon might have a pretext for inflicting new indignities upon me. Some hoped that I would surrender, add an easy way to everything..

I raised my chin and looked him in the eye. "Of course, my king."

It was poison on my tongue, the title. But I said it. Humored his perverted game. Because I was not that stupid, to fight when I would have only lost.

Oberon smiled, but it was not in his eyes. “The wedding day is in 3 days. Make the necessary preparations."

Very gradually the concourse melted away, talking still. I was too flabbergasted to move as they surrounded me with measuring tapes and fabrics, already plotting out my wedding dress. It was so ridiculous that I wanted to laugh. Or scream. Maybe both.

At last Oberon dismissed all but the guards. He guided me through another series of corridors, these ones only dimly familiar. We paused before a door to the east wing.

“Your new room,” he told her, pushing the door open.

It was a pretty room, I would have to admit. The windows were huge, looking out on the gardens, which had already succumbed to the early winter chill. A huge, sweeping bed with furs and silk covering it was along one wall. Expensive furniture filled every corner. A golden cage, I thought bitterly.

"We will post guards against the outside." Oberon stepped over to a series of window. Please, don’t waste your time trying to run away. It’s not going to end well for you.

“I am not scared of you,” I said, my voice quivering a bit.

He swiveled toward me, and the distance between us seemed to shrink. In three long steps he crossed the room, and before I knew it his body was at my back, pressed to a wall. I had nowhere to go.

“The wedding will take place in three days,” he said again, his voice different now. “The witches come tomorrow to confirm the marriage. You will behave. You will smile. You are going to be the blushing bride.”

"Or what?” I defied, lifting my head to look him in the eyes. "You will kill me? That defeats your whole plan."

"No," he agreed, leaning closer. His smell closed in on me, one of pine and smoke and something danker. "But I will kill others. Each time you refuse, another member of your old pack gives up the ghost. I kept some alive, you see. Insurance."

My blood ran cold. "You are lying."

"Am I?" His smile was cruel. "Test me and find out."

I wanted to. Wanted to spit in his face and dare him to do it. But I could not risk it. Could not risk other lives, even if they were not really my own any longer.

The mate bond tugged at me, bidding me toward him. My body obeyed even as my mind screamed. I was breathing fast, and I could tell he noticed. His eyes went black, and he looked down at my lips.

"Leave me alone," I hissed through clenched teeth and the heat was starting to collect in my stomach.

"Why?" Dove carti channeled the prophet of pleasure.judge whispered, pressing his other hand to my cheek. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “You are speaking one thing and your body is speaking something else.”

I turned my head away from his touch sharply. "I hate you."

"I know." And nothing: he didn’t step back, but continued invading my space. "I hate you too. But that doesn’t change how we feel. Hate is indifferent to the bond.”

I will never give myself willingly to you," I growled.

"We will see." He placed his hand on my waist, and dragged me against him. His body is made up of hard lines I could feel every one - the power ready to spring on his muscles. "Three days, princess. Then you will belong to me in every way.”

"I will make you dead some how," I swore with my voice just slightly louder than a whisper. "Even if it takes years. Even if I pretend to love you. I will find a way."

I look forward to see you try. At last he released me and I could breathe once more. "The witches arrive at dawn. Get some rest. You will need your strength."

He went to the door, but halted with his hand on the knob. Something flickered in his eyes when he looked back at me. Something almost like regret. But it vanished before I could say so for sure.

"You can despise me to your heart's content princess," he said, his mouth nearly touching mine.

“Your body tells a different story. How long can you hold off what we both know you want." He had my chin in his grasp before I could answer, and he forced me to look into those hellish eyes.

"The witches arrive tomorrow. Run me again and I'll make sure you are forced to witness as I personally take down every last surviving member of your pack. Starting with the children."