“Where are your clothes?” Nickolas’s voice cuts through the tense silence, his grip on my arm still firm and causing a sharp pang of pain to shoot through me. Despite the discomfort, I refrain from speaking, knowing that it’s best not to say anything to make the situation worse.
“Ember took them,” I respond truthfully, not hesitating to divulge the facts of the matter. After all, it’s not as though Nickolas would take any action against her for her actions.
“Hmm, she did,” Nickolas murmurs, more to himself than to me, his grip tightening further before he finally releases me. I massage the tender area where his fingers had dug in, silently waiting for him to speak further. To my surprise, he doesn’t reprimand me or demand further explanations. Instead, he disappears momentarily, only to return with my dress-or rather, Ember’s dress-in hand.
My brows knit together in confusion as Nickolas offers me the garment; his actions are unexpected and leave me at a loss for words. Did he just get the dress back from her?
“This is the last time I should ever see you in your underwear,” Nickolas asserts sternly, his gaze piercing as I slip into the dress.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I respond.
“The last thing I need is for everyone to be fucking gawking at your body,” he continues, his tone laced with frustration.
Once the dress is on, he closes the distance between us, his hand moving to the back of my neck and enveloping it in a firm yet strangely comforting grip. He tilts my head upward, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. I find myself locked in a silent exchange, captivated by the mesmerizing depths of his emerald eyes. Despite his flaws, there’s an undeniable allure to his gaze that I can’t ignore.
“Stay away from Ember. Do you hear me?” he instructs, his voice brooking no argument.
I nod in understanding.
“Good. The last thing I need is for her to fucking kill you before I’ve made use of you,” he adds, his words cutting deeper than they should. As he begins to walk away, I halt him with my words.
“I, Amelia Anderson, reject Nickolas Adams II as my mate,” I declare, my voice trembling with frustration. Enough is enough. I don’t know why I didn’t reject him the second I arrived here. What was I stalling for? Nickolas and I don’t stand a chance of being together. It’s better to feel immense pain now than endure it in small doses every time we cross paths. His statement shouldn’t push me to reject him, but with everything that’s been happening, I’ve reached my breaking point.
I watch as the muscles in his back tense, a silent indication of the impact of my words, but he doesn’t turn back to face me. Instead, he delivers a cutting response without so much as a glance in my direction.
“Accepting your rejection would be doing you a favor, and that’s the last thing I would ever do for you,” he retorts before walking away, leaving me standing alone.
My blood boils with a hatred I’ve never felt before. “Fuck!” I scream, the sound echoing off the walls. Why won’t he just set me free? Why does he insist on torturing me like this?
“Ahh!” I cry out, pressing my palms against my face. My life couldn’t possibly get any worse. Tears well up in my eyes, and my nose starts to sting. I throw my head back, letting out a heavy sigh. I don’t deserve this.
“You don’t,” Marie says softly, her voice thick with emotion.
“You mean ‘we’ don’t deserve it, Marie,” I correct her, tears streaming down my face.
“I wouldn’t normally agree with you about rejecting him, but these past few days have been unbearable,” Marie admits, her voice filled with sorrow.
“What did we do to deserve a mate like him, Marie?” I ask, my voice breaking as I sniffle, tears continuing to flow.
“I don’t know, Amelia,” she responds, her heart as broken as mine.
Taking a deep breath, I wipe away my tears and turn towards the stairs. With heavy steps, I make my way down to my room, where I’ll continue to cry over the miserable existence that seems to have just begun.
***
Later in the day, at Beatrice’s insistence, I reluctantly leave my room. She found me in tears a few minutes ago, commenting on my bloodshot eyes and pale complexion, likening me to a ghost who had endured a rough day. Despite my protests, she insisted that I needed some sunlight and practically dragged me to the gardens.
Before leaving, I changed into a different dress, ensuring that it wasn’t one of Ember’s. The brown satin short A-line dress fit me just as well as the others, albeit showing slightly less cleavage around the chest area.
As I walk into the gardens, my thoughts wander to my family, wondering how they’re faring without me. I miss them dearly and hope they’re doing well. There’s a longing to reach out to my sister-in-law, but I hesitate, unsure if it’s the right decision.
Beatrice interrupts my thoughts with a quick word to the gardeners before leading me towards the stables. Despite the beauty of the flowers surrounding us, my sour mood prevents me from admiring them. My mind remains preoccupied with worries and concerns, overshadowing the serenity of the garden.
Stepping into the stable grounds, my attention is immediately drawn to a magnificent stallion. I approach the horse with caution, mindful not to startle the animal or risk harm to either of us.
“Hello there,” I greet the beautiful black horse, who responds with a soft grunt and a shake of his head.
“Would you mind if I touched you?” I inquire, closing the distance between us and gently placing my hand on his sleek coat. To my relief, he seems to accept my touch, so I begin to softly pat him. Animals have always held a special place in my heart, even though I am a werewolf. They offer solace and companionship in times of need.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the horse, cherishing this moment of peace and connection amidst the turmoil of my thoughts.
“He must really like you,” Eric comments, his voice pulling me out of my moment of tranquility. I turn around to find him mounted on a beautiful brown horse.
“He isn’t usually this friendly with strangers,” he adds, dismounting and handing the reins to the stable hand before approaching me.
“I guess I got lucky,” I reply, continuing to pat the stallion’s side.
“I can see that. Do you want to take him for a ride?” Eric offers, now standing beside the horse.
“Could I?” I ask, surprised by the invitation and the trust placed in me.
“Yes, I don’t think Nickolas would have a problem with it,” he assures me.
“But aren’t you worried I might try to run away?” I narrow my eyes at him half-jokingly.
He smirks, his confidence unwavering. “Love, you haven’t seen a lycan in full speed. We would catch you even before you reached the palace borders,” he says, moving closer until his face is inches from mine. “I advise you not to try it if you value the freedom you have now.” With that, he pulls away, leaving me to digest his warning.
Swallowing hard, I nod in understanding. It seems my escape plans will have to wait for another time, especially with Eric likely to have the guards on high alert during the horse ride.
But regardless of that, a horse ride won’t be bad. The thought of the wind in my hair and the sun on my face is enticing, but I decline Eric’s offer.
“I would love to, but unfortunately, I’m not dressed for it,” I explain, gesturing to my attire.
“Then tomorrow, right after you have breakfast,” Eric suggests, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Sure,” I agree, a smile spreading across my face at the prospect of indulging in something I love in the midst of the challenges of my current situation.