Page 99 of The Poison Daughter
Instead, I think of his eyes, the deep blue of a stormy sky at dusk. I think of the way he felt pressed against me last night and the feeling of his lips on my neck. I think of bending him to my will and getting control of my life back once and for all.
The climax hits me out of nowhere—a soft swell of pent-up pleasure that rolls through me like a wave. Goosebumps rise on my skin and I gasp as I ride it out. When I finally blink my eyes open, Henry is closer—only a few inches away—his gaze fixed between my thighs.
“Did you learn something, my feral wolf?” I draw my fingers free and suck them clean, my eyes on Henry’s.
His nostrils flare and his hands fist at his sides. He licks his lips. “Now that you’veeducatedme, you should know we have a dinner with all the most influential families at the fort tomorrow night. I’ve sent a dress to your room and you’ll be expected to be on your best behavior.”
I lean back and offer him one last glance at my undergarments before letting my dress fall back in place. “Is this not my best behavior? I haven’t even murdered anyone.”
He arches a brow. “Yet.”
“Excellent point. There’s still time.” I glance at the book beside me. “Anything else I need to know about this?”
“They will know if you fake it.”
I freeze. “How?”
“Those with blessings from Kennymyra can always tell, but there’s an enchanted golden sigil in the headboard of the bed that absorbs that released pleasure and acts as an offering to Divine Kennymyra.”
I stare at Henry, waiting for humor to break through, but he’s not joking. My mouth is suddenly dry and my hands are clammy.
“Not sure what to do when you have to stop pretending, huh?”
I glare at him. “More concerned you won’t be able to finish the job.”
A predatory smirk spreads over his face. “I can’t wait to make you scream.”
The words send a pleasant shiver through me.
I jump down from the table and walk toward the library doors. When I push into the hall, I expect to feel better without the weight of Henry’s assessing gaze on me. But the certainty in his words haunt me, the echo of them chasing me down the hall and all the way back to my room.
19
HARLOW
Henry said he sent a dress for me to wear to dinner. He did not say it was going to be a barely-appropriate-for-public-consumption kind of dress.
The one-shoulder red silk corset is covered in glittering beads, and the neckline scoops to show a scandalous amount of cleavage. The silk gathers at my right hip and drops into a flowing skirt with a slit up the right thigh nearly to my hip. It is exactly the kind of dress that I would go hunting for abusers in. How irritating that Henry has good taste.
It’s more frustrating that he isn’t here yet and I’m forced to smile awkwardly at a room full of people whose hatred for me is practically a life force. After our time in the library yesterday and all I learned about the ritual, I’ve been avoiding him. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because I don’t want to think about the awkwardness of this arrangement any more than I have to.
I glance around the dining room. The tables form a U-shape, with Henry and my table at the top, and his parents beside us. It’s meant to make everyone feel like they have an equitable place and view of the room, while allowing servants easy access to everyone. Unfortunately, it also means that everyone has an opportunity to gawk at me.
Gaven is a steady presence at my back, leaning against the wall just out of my peripheral vision. I know it’s a reflex of his to stay out of sightso he’s less intrusive in my daily life, but now I’d like to be more aware of his presence.
I knew I would be unwelcome here, especially after what Kellan shared before I left, but it’s hard to tell if this is because they’re naturally distrustful of outsiders, if they blame my family generally for the massacre, or if they all know what Kellan shared with me before I left.
Even if Kellan hadn’t shared the information about my father’s involvement with me before I left Lunameade, I wouldn’t be surprised if the people of Mountain Haven blamed my family. Protection of both the city and the fort has always been a Carrenwell responsibility.
Most of the faces in the room wear the same mask of irritated hostility. All except for a man at the first table to my right. He looks almost bemused when I meet his dark eyes. His assessment is like having the silk peeled from my skin.
Ignoring him, I pick at the candle wax that has dripped onto the golden tablecloth in front of me and gulp down my wine.
A subtle hush comes over the crowd as Henry steps into the room. He comes to stand beside my chair, bending to kiss my hand with a gentle brush of his lips.
“Good evening to my lovely bride,” he whispers, straightening again. “Good evening, everyone. I apologize for my lateness. I had to see to an injured hunter who returned with this afternoon’s party.” He lifts his wine glass and looks around the room. “Thank you for being here tonight to meet my wife-to-be and to show your support for this union that will provide us the resources and security that we need to continue to flourish here.”
I swear I can feel their skepticism in the way their rainbow of auras flare and dance. People who can’t see magic are usually less aware of the way their auras shift with their moods. It’s an advantage my family is careful not to share much about. You never know when it could be valuable.
