JessamineTwenty lashes, I think as I put my left foot in front of my right, refusing to let my head hang in shame as the crowd watches me in utter silence.Each beating, I had taken, my screams muffled by the bit. Twenty.Ten more than mother gave everytime I ran. Very early in my life, I came to understand pain and fear. My mother...she loved me. Too much. I was wild and free. I would run the expanse of the woods, threading places even warriors didn't. She didn't understand why I ran to the wasteland and marshes. She didn't know why I spent hours sitting on the tallest tree, watching, waiting. I would return home, covered in small cuts and bruises, and I would reek of smoke and ash.My mother was scared that I would run one day and never return, like my father.So, she locked us in. Barred the doors for days. It didn't matter that we were starving and had nothing to eat. She'd rather we starved and died together than let me leave.And one day, I grew tired of it. I took dow
KierI pause by the door, fingers inching for the doorknob.What in the Goddess's sacred name am I doing here?My duty, I tell myself. I have to do this to at least make up for the injustice mother committed. It is my duty to see to it that she is alright.I knock softly, but there's no response. I raise my hand to knock again but the door creaks, opening slightly. She is on the cold floor, her body curled into a ball and shivers wrack her fragile form. The room is filled with the spicy smell of blood, mixed with the woman's scent and it has my gut clenching. Leave now, Kier. Don't cross the line, I try to warn myself, but I'm already pushing the door back and crouching beside her. Randale, I say through the mind-link I rarely ever use, and he responds almost immediately. Get the pack doctor. Servants' quarters.I severe the link before my thoughts can flow through. Her back is marred by gruesome whiplash wounds that crisscross like angry lightening strikes. Ruined is
JessamineEveryone’s watching me. I try to ignore it at first but it becomes evident when I head to the kitchen for my daily duties and I am. . .sent away.Odd, isn’t it?“What do you mean I can no longer work here? Where will I go?” My voice takes on a desperate edge as I point at the kitchen, ignoring everyone going about their daily duties, pretending that I do not exist when they are in fact, inching closer to listen to my conversation with the Head Maid. “That is all I have,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes.The Head Maid glances to the side. “I’m afraid, this has nothing to do with me. Alpha’s orders. You are not to work in the kitchen, or the stables or dabble with the servants anymore. You are not to return to your quarters either.”“Why?!” I cry. Alpha Kier is throwing me out? My temper flares. First, his mother has me whipped, destroys my back, as well as my image, and now, he’s throwing me out of the pack.The Head Maid shakes her head, her lips drawn tightly. “I do n
KierDanger lurks in the most unexpected places.In dark, shadowed corners...In the woods...On the lips of a servant.Danger, I think, should be a blade to one's neck and an arrow to one's heart. It shouldn't be the soft caress of a woman's virgin and inexperienced lips.My gut tightens and something cracks behind me. The table, I realize. I gripped too hard to stop myself from touching her; twine her hair around my fingers and be the first one to steal her innocence--not that there's anything left of it.Her tongue brushes past my lips shyly and I part them without thinking, letting her in, and at the first stroke of her tongue against mine, my resolve cracks.Why torture myself by staying away? If she so wishes to be in my bed, I shall grant her that.Slowly, my fingers leave the table and find her waist, tugging her closer and rougher than I've never been with any of my past lovers. Eager. Hungry for more of that taste of licorice. Hungry for more of that heat that radiates
Jessamine Draw him close, ignite his passion and then, pull away. It is not a rejection, Jessamine. It is an artful retreat, a dance of allure. Make him hunger for more.My mother taught me things. Too many things. In her state of delirium, I'd thought it was the madness taking her.But I should've known that she was never mad. She saw, like no one else could. People fear what they do not understand. They tag it as abnormal. Mother, they'd called her mad.I've never been more proud to inherit that title. Cloak yourself in an aura of indifference. Men are drawn to challenges. They yearn to tame and unravel that which they do not understand. Become a puzzle. Become something beyond the ordinary. Become...better.It's like a switch. One I rarely flip. A side to me no one else has seen. A face I have kept hidden. I'm not like the rest. I'm different. I wasn't born wrong. I was born perfect. This isn't pride. It is a fact. Want to be like me? Read.Though, I can now ha
KierI despise myself the moment I realize what I have done. The hall is so silent, one could hear the sound of a pin drop.Randale stares at me with surprise, not bothering to wipe the blood dripping from his broken nose. I raise my gaze from his face to every single man who defers to me in the hall. They all have one question in their disapproving gazes. Why?My fingers clench around Jessamine's finger tightly, against my own will. I have lost control of my body, moving against my will. I found her note under my door, covered in her scent. Let's talk. Training hall. -- JH. I was well on my way to light it up when I say the scrawling behind the note. I'll consider letting you take me on your table if you come.I burned it anyway, trying to resist its lure, but I couldn't stop myself, couldn't help myself. I would call it curiousity, but it is more than that: something primal, untamed, and insatiable stirred within me when it came to this woman.A yawning pit of
JessamineIt took me years to discover the truth. Neredia may be my home, but it wasn't my mother's. Or my father's.And my mother did an awfully good job at masking it. Though, I'd think it obviously from her wild, savage beauty, very much unlike the kind I'd grown around that it was pretty obvious.Violet eyes, hair like the rising sun, olive skin--features that belong to those who worship the Sun Goddess; those who live far beyond the borders that are now occupied by rogues.In Neredia, we worship the Moon Goddess. Our shifting processes are tied to the moon's cycle. We may shift whenever we want to, but only under the moonlight are we at the peak of our powers as wolves.I chuckle as I brush my hair back into my hands, pulling it up into a tight ponytail. We. I talk like I can classify myself as one of them. I don't even have a wolf.In Dawn, the Sun Goddess's City, their shifting process is tied to the sun. In contrast, the moon's energy renders them vulnerable and weaker,
RenaeHands clasped behind her back, she watched from a distance, having gotten banned by her son from The Hunt. It didn't matter. She could only take pride in knowing the wretch wouldn't be returning with the rest of the contenders.She watched as the woman tried again and again to get on the horse. She watched the Gamma approach her, and Renae saw the emotions that flickered briefly in her son's eyes as the Gamma lifted the maid and placed her on the horse.Renae felt no regret for what she had planned.There would be casualties, perhaps, even deaths, but it was all for the greater good. For the pack, for Neredia, she would never let an outsider take the sacred seat from her.Did she hate the miserable maid? Yes. Why did she? Because there was none she hated more than Madeline Everhart. The whore. The one who could tell fortunes by reading one's hand. The one she had confided in once about her impossible love, and she had gone behind her and stolen him from her.Once upon a