Alexander had been right. Having to watch this was punishment enough for me. Especially knowing that he was taking extra punishment to spare me for my own imagined crime.
I watched in silence, not letting my face or behavior reveal how shocked I was, as the King used every ounce of wild strength that he had to lash Alexander’s back into a meaty mess of blood and tattered bits of fabric. I straightened my spine and did not avert my eyes, though my heart was pounding out of my chest, and my wolf wanted to make me shift and attack.
With every snap of the whip, the King tore into Alexander’s broad shoulders and muscular back, sending spatters of blood all over the room. Alexander’s long, golden hair was wet at the roots with sweat and at the tips with blood that started out bright red and darkened to black as it soaked in more and more liquid with each passing minute.
I lost count, but I suppose the King reached his magic number of twenty lashes and was satisfied, because he finally stopped, grunted with exertion, and threw the whip to the side, leaving Alexander’s fresh blood on it to dry into the seasoned leather.
“And you,” the King said, turning his attention to his Scarlet, who was still sitting meekly on the floor in the red pool of her silky evening gown. “I’ll investigate this allegation,” he said, “and I will not hesitate to put you in jail if any part of it is proven to be true.”
Scarlet nodded frantically in acknowledgement. Her chin was quivering, either in real fear or pretend innocence, I couldn’t tell.
“Let me help him,” I said, looking at Alexander’s back, which was still gushing with rows of fresh, flowing blood. It was the first thing I’d been able to say since being down here in this nightmare place.
The King gave a slight, disinterested nod to the guards that were still holding my arms at my sides, and they released me. He said nothing to me. Didn’t even look in my direction. Just stormed over to his wife and grabbed Scarlet by her slender throat, clenching it roughly in one big hand and dragging her, choking, with him out of the room. The guards were all then gone in the next second behind them.
I dropped to my knees at Alexander’s side as he pushed himself, weakly, up into a seated position. Then, the next thing I knew, he was throwing his arms around me, almost knocking me over in a hard, desperate hug.
Alexander
It had been nothing short of terrifying when Fiona stepped up to Scarlet to fight for me like that. My heart leapt up into my throat as my mind flashed a vision of Fiona on her knees in front of my father, taking punishment for treachery. That’s what he would call the way she publicly defied my stepmother.
He wouldn’t care that Fiona was pregnant. My father didn’t spare anyone from a punishment he saw them as deserving.
The only path to sparing Fiona from the King’s wrath was to submit to him completely and bide my time. I was no stranger to my father’s signature brand of justice against anyone who personally offended him or his Luna. All I could do was wait for the right moment to plead for him to spare mine.
All I could think about was my cub inside her womb. And how weak the baby was making her, especially since I wasn’t giving them my full attention.
On the other side of this, I would do better at that. I needed to keep Fiona strong.
I was ready to accept my punishment and move on. Someone was going to pay for this scene. That much was undeniable. It was also undeniable that my father and stepmother wanted that someone to be me. They’d been looking for an opportunity to take me down ever since I arrived in the palace. Now was the time to get it over with.
Fiona peeled herself out of my bloody embrace and started trying to help me stand up. When we were on our feet, she looked at my back and with one gentle hand, tried tugging a piece of ripped shirt out of a place where it had embedded itself into my torn, wet flesh. She grimaced when it didn’t come free easily.
“Thank you.” My voice was a hoarse whisper, and my mouth felt like it was lined with sandpaper.
Fiona moved to face me and frowned. “For what?”
“Defending me.” Suddenly I felt faint and wobbled on shaky legs. Fiona ducked under my arm and caught me just as I was about to fall. I reached for the wall and steadied myself against it.
Fiona was stronger than I had been giving her credit for. She held up my entire body weight to stabilize me, and that’s not an insignificant sum.
“I was just fulfilling my duty as your fiancée,” she said, looking at the wall. Her words were cold, but her tone was less so. I couldn’t be sure, but it almost felt like…
It must have been the blood loss that made me temporarily lose my mind. I let my body take over and in the next second I was grasping Fiona in my arms, wrapping them tight around her waist, and bringing my face close to hers.
When she put one hand on my shoulder and started to push me away, I began to remember myself. And the promise I made to her, that I would not push her to kiss me, no matter how bad I craved the taste of her lips.
But then I felt Fiona’s body release, and she silently withdrew her hand.
I put my lips on hers, hesitant at first. But the smell of her overwhelmed me and I pressed her mouth open with my tongue, then filled her wet, mint and lavender flavored mouth with it, stroking the roof of her mouth, loving every second of the taste and feeling.
I let her lips fall closed again, but they reached for mine like magnets. I kissed her hard, relishing the soft texture of her lips, drinking her up hungrily. The hellscape around us faded to black, and all I saw was Fiona’s porcelain skin, her long eyelashes, her lips… all I felt was her touch.
She gasped for air and I pulled away, hovering my lips just next to hers for one last second. The tiny space between our mouths hummed with the dueling vibrations of our hot, heaving breaths.
