Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 22
"Knock, knock," Noah announces as he barges in, not a second later. We freeze, watching Noah enter with wary eyes. He strolls over to the dresser, arms folded and smiling beatifically at us. I note at once that the smile doesn't meet his eyes. "I see you've been breaking her in," Noah says, his smile taking a wicked turn as disgust rolls my stomach. "Good."
Adrian's body trembles at the slight.
"I want you at Trammel House to help set up for tonight. Get going." The alpha's order is met with little resistance, and I am glad to have been forewarned by Adrian.
Adrian retreats, his eyes trained on Noah as he stands and walks to the door. While slipping on his boots, he casts me an apologetic look over his shoulder. Then he is gone.
His absence hurts more than I expect.
"I'm glad to see you're getting so comfortable here," Noah remarks and meanders my way to sit on the edge of the bed. "I want the transition today to be as seamless as possible."
Noah shifts closer, making no move to hide his blatant perusal of what skin of mine is bare.
"What transition?" I ask with caution as I subtly scoot away. Noah grabs my wrist before I make it an inch.
"My transition, of course," he says. "Carrie made a fool of herself last night and granted me the perfect platform to assert my dominance. Now that I'm in complete command of the pack, this ridiculous feud with the Adolphus pack and coven will be put to an end. And then, once the blood is cleared from the forest, and we call ourselves the rightful victors, I'll come back and have you standing at my side."
The information scores the blood from my face and triggers my intraflora. I suck in a sharp breath, hoping to distract from the fact that beneath the blankets, the whirling of foreign vines and flowers refuse to calm.
"I will not—"
Noah snatches my jaw, the pressure he exerts bold and bruising. A noise of alarm eeks from my throat, followed by a whimper. He ignores my suffering, trespassing closer with eyes lit gold in their authority.
"I don't need your permission, fairy." He waits until I attempt to nod before releasing me. With another broad smile, he rises fluidly from the bed and wipes away the nonexistent dirt from his dark jeans. "This evening we're going to put on a show for our guests that arrived last night. Hmm, perhaps 'show’ isn't the right word." His eyes gleam. "It will be a demonstration. We're going to show them exactly what we plan on doing to the Adolphus pack. Thankfully, we already have one of theirs on hand to accurately depict the scenario."
"Leave Keenan alone," I snarl.
Noah makes a tsking noise. "I don't suppose your lover would appreciate the enthusiasm at which you defend that Adolphus scum. Perhaps, I'll use Adrian in part of the demonstration as well?" I balk, and Noah chuckles as he makes his way to the door. "Someone will be by later with your outfit. Try to make yourself presentable."
With his parting words delivered over his shoulder, he leaves. I glimpse a large man standing just outside the door before it closes, his posture militant as he plays the role of guard. When the door clicks shut my intraflora relax at last. I can't say the same for my heart.
Chapter 12
The day is filled with a callous longing, rubbing me raw from the inside out. Though I lean into my faith and hope that we will succeed against the odds, a dull ache echoes through the bonds of my heart's content. I worry for Adrian.
Such a concern is unsettling, for it brings me to a conclusion I cannot deny any longer. I care for him. Whether it be our heart’s contents’ influence, or something else, he has taken a piece of my heart.
I'm afraid of exiting the cabin, though inevitable necessities make me on two different occasions. The monstrous man stands guard the entire time at the cabin door. I keep occupied by pouring over each of Adrian's sketches and praying to whatever Gods and Goddesses will listen to see us through tonight.
A knock sounds on the door later in the afternoon. I startle as the guard opens the door halfway after the second knock, a pink bag in hand. He holds it out to me with a scowl so fierce I cringe.
"Everything you need for this evening is in here," he says and shakes the bag once for emphasis. The contents rattle. "First, I'm to take you to shower. You'll have ten minutes,"—his glare intensifies—"no more."
"Okay," I manage to say, slipping from my seat and retrieving the bag.
I take my time looking through the contents of the bag when we return from the showers, spreading everything out on the bed. A dress with cutouts on its back and sides. Heels that are a dangerous height. An assortment of beauty products, more than half of which I have no idea as to their use. I scrunch my nose. I would never wear this strange assortment, here or in the Hollow Woods.
Sitting near the heater, I pick up a familiar orange tube and twist it open to reveal the hidden black stick inside with its bristled end. Mascara. I frown at the substance, thinking back on the few nights where Quinn and I spent evenings together. Her sure hand had brushed various cosmetics across my face, the experience pleasant, minus the part where she insisted on attacking my eyes with the eyeliner and mascara.
Brushing back my damp hair, I set down the tube and choose a select few products that don’t intimidate me. By the time I finish, the completed look is passable.
My violet eyes stare back at me through the small mirror face attached to one of the beauty applicators. The tops of my cheeks have a pretty iridescent shimmer that reminds me of Celosia's wings in their full glory, and the "apples," as Quinn calls them, are rosy. The dark circles under my eyes and miscellaneous bruises I subdue with a pale concealer, but no amount of product could cover them completely.
There is nothing to announce Noah's arrival. No knock. No heavy crunch of snow. He simply enters, his hazel eyes arresting me at once. My heart hammers against the inside of my chest. At least I am dressed. I squirm under his scrutiny and rise carefully, tugging the end of my dress down as much as I can without compromising the position of the top.
"You're... acceptable," Noah surmises after dragging his regard up and down my body. My insides wrestle about under his continued examination. "Why aren't your shoes on?"
I glance at the pair of killer heels with a grimace. "I can't walk in them," I admit with a delicate flush.
"Put them on."
A ripple of foreboding trickles down my spine. I go rigid as Noah snatches the shoes and kneels before me. He holds out a hand with little patience. In tandem with a shaky inhalation, I press my weight onto my right leg and lift my left. Noah's hand is hot around my ankle as he slides the open-toed heel onto my foot and fastens the ankle strap.
"Tonight, you are to be seen, not heard. I don't want to have to ruin your pretty face because you can't hold your tongue. Especially when I have very specific plans for that mouth later."
I gag at the sordid remark. Noah smirks, releasing my left ankle and taking my right calf in hand. He hefts it up to place the other shoe on, hazel eyes gleaming with sin as he takes in my horrified expression. His efficiency vanishes with the second shoe. Noah takes his time. His fingers digging circles into the taut muscle of my calf.
I remain tense throughout the ordeal, and he chuckles, bowing his blond head to finish the task. When he rises, he keeps himself in my personal space,
Smugness radiates off him like toxic fumes. "No backtalk? No resistance?"
I arch back as his hand lifts to my face. His fingers graze the underside of my chin, and I flinch, snapping my head to the side to avoid his touch. He chuckles again, the notes patronizing.
"That's the spirit, not that I mind you coming to my hand so readily, but where's the fun in that?"
"You make me sick." The hoarse confession falls like stones between us and I watch the skin about his eyes stretch tight while his smirk freezes.
That precarious, volatile line all lycans balance on turns in favor of Noah's baser nature.
Fingers seize my throat, and my arms are pinned under the steel of his. My furious attempt at dislodgement is met with a grunt and then caustic laughter.
"Got it out of your system?" He pants as his fingers constrict.
Holding myself still in the prison of his arms is the worst kind of torture, but battering down the unbridled momentum of my magic and intraflora is far worse. It rages through my veins and demands retribution, though what it could accomplish with the collar still on is questionable.
"That's it. Settle down. I won't be as gentle if you pull something like that in front of our guests."
I fume and somehow corral my fury, lest I break and ruin all chances of escape or endanger my friends. If I can endure this humiliation for their freedom—for all our freedom—I must. I slam my eyes shut, and center myself to reserve my energy.
"Listen to me." Noah grips my chin and forces me to meet his hardened eyes. "I want you to understand that under no uncertain terms if you disappoint me, your friends will pay the price for your insolence and disobedience." Noah passes me an easy smile, but it does nothing to soften the maddened sheen his eyes take. "You'd never guess what might set me off, which is why you won't take a step out of line. Will you?"
I make myself nod. Although the action is stiff, Noah is satisfied.
"Good. Now say it."
"I understand," I growl.
Noah relinquishes my jaw and pats my cheek, and then unlocks my subjugation collar. My jaw drops as the metal clatters against the floor behind me.
I don't move. I don't breathe. The crisp air meeting the full length of my neck makes my legs tremble.
My abilities flood my better senses, knocking me to my knees. The rush of my intraflora unwinding and flailing about my skin forcing air into my lungs. I suck it in greedily, hands clenched at my thighs as the surging of leaves, thorns, and flowers rake up and down my body finding their rightful place. With a gentle sob, I buckle, wings fluttering against my back as all that has been denied me returns.
"Come now, surely you're stronger than that," Noah murmurs as he kneels in front of me.
I cannot tell whether his concern is genuine or false. All I know is that my wings bear the strangest tingling sensation as if they've been asleep far too long, and awakening is its own sort of agony.
Warmth floods my body. Strength, pure and true, kindle my hope to new heights.
"Enjoy this gift, and remember, one step out of line and your friends pay the price.”
My head bobs in acknowledgment as I lift a hand to my neck. Noah intercepts, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth.
"I've got something to replace it."
My head jerks up. Noah takes a flat square box from an inner pocket of his suit jacket. He opens it with little ceremony, tossing the empty velvet box behind himself as he takes out a diamond necklace. I swallow. The necklace comes with an attached thin leather band, wound up like rope.
"Your leash and collar for the evening. If you so much as attempt to give me a splinter tonight, I'll take a baseball bat to your shins." He sniffs and thumbs the bottom of his nose with a casual air. There is no mercy to be found in his lazy lupine appraisal.
Fury blossoms in the core of my being as the press of cold stones kiss my neck.
"Good girl."
I glare back, allowing my anger to build inside confident in the knowledge I will release it tonight.
++
The last time I set foot in Trammel House it was packed with people. Tonight is no different.
Confronted with the boxing ring once more, I stand on Noah's left-hand side. I scan the room; packed is not the correct word to describe the scene. Lycans and sorcerers are jammed together. There's no room to breathe, let alone move. Even the upper mezzanine is stuffed with bodies. A cold wind sweeps through the wide-open doors at the front of Trammel House, but it makes little difference against the accumulated body heat of the pack. Perhaps if the rear barn doors located behind the boxing ring were left open as well, the light sheen of perspiration would not line the back of my neck.
I scan the crowd above and below. I see no familiar faces, not even Deval or his sister, Eva. A caw rings out from the rafters. I crane my neck to spot the birds rustling along the wooden beams restlessly. They're large blackbirds. Crows, perhaps. Whatever type of bird they are, they're clearly unsettled by the boisterous activity below.
Noah flashes me a broad smile as the crowd produces a zealous cheer. He's been speaking for the past few minutes to them, riling them up. I stare with indifference into the manic mob. Noah continues his speech.
Though my intraflora and wings are unshackled, I pool my focus into keeping them calm. The temptation to fly away or will the earth to protect me is far too great, even with the consequences explained to me by Noah.
"... without further ado, let's bring in tonight's entertainment!" The lights dim overhead and the horde of muscle and coiled magic part to make a path.
Several sorcerers enter in grim black robes, taking up space between both arenas. The last of their numbers make a show of transporting two tall cages and the frightened fairies inside of them. A hand glides across the dip of my lower back and ushers me forward.
"What do you think?" Noah’s husky whisper breezes past my hair and into my ear.
My jaw locks as I refrain from spitting out profanities. Noah laughs and steals his hand to my side. "Don't tell me you're upset? We got them all cleaned up for the big night."
I study my friends from afar. They are clean and donned in fresh clothes, but they’re still in cages. My body quakes as fire boils my blood.
"Calm yourself, you don't want to miss what comes next."
I study the crowd. Half of them cheer and gawk openly at the presentation of my friends who do their best to stay balanced. The other half monitor the main entrance with fevered anticipation. Jeers begin to cross their lips and scowls crease their features. My heart falters when I glimpse the next form of entertainment.
Tattoos. A dark head of hair. The gleam of metal around the man's neck.
Keenan.
Three men hover around him. One trailing at the back, while the others herd him forward by the biceps. Not once does Keenan raise his head to the heckles that greet him.
A scream crawls up the back of my throat, but I keep my lips stubbornly shut. Be strong. I must be strong for him and my friends. I cannot afford to make a single false move. It is with these thoughts that I stand my ground and hold back my howl of rage.
The lights adjust to spotlight the room's newest inhabitants. Keenan a lump of battered muscles on his knees in the pit near the front entrance, and Alekos and Celosia on display in their cages in the middle of the room.
A delighted cry comes from behind, followed by several more.
Noah turns us, his grip unrelenting even as I buckle at the sight of Jax being dragged in from the back and forced into the ring with us. Two men toss him to the ground. His bound hands do little to cushion his fall.
Jax grunts as he hinges up to his knees. Unlike Keenan, he summons the strength to keep his chin elevated and stare down the room with his right eye. Despite his bound state, Jax is clothed in fresh clothes, and the marks of his abuse I saw the day before are gone. I cannot fathom why he’s been healed and cleaned, but I worry some sinister reason lies behind the act. I pull in a deep breath and straighten as Jax’s glower reaches me. The veneer of apathy he dons for his captors dissipates as he catalogs my state of dress. A fierceness alights his face and his lips flatten.
“Prick,” one of his captors says, and plants his boot in the middle of Jax’s back, kicking him to the ground
“No!” I shout, as Jax groans. I jerk forward, but the chain attached to the necklace I wear yanks me back into Noah’s side. I gasp and stare up at the alpha aghast.
"You know the rules," Noah says, leaning close to my face.
I shake my head, lips forging together by sheer strength of will, and duck my head. Another yank to the diamond choker forces my attention back to Noah.
"Eager for the fight to begin?" Noah purrs and nuzzles my cheek.
I bend my back to painful lengths to dissuade him, but Noah merely barks out a laugh and suddenly aims for my chest instead, encouraged by the symphony of the crowd. My hand shoots out and connects with Noah's cheek before I can stop myself.
The silence that follows is heart-numbing.
I stare at the red mark left on Noah's face, mouth hanging open. The leash slips through his hand to the floor as he inches into my personal space and sound reignites in the room. First, by the fitful state of the birds above, followed closely by the snarls from the lycans in attendance.
I expect the hit that comes, but the speed and strength of it are more than I could have imagined. The sharp clap of Noah’s blow strikes my ears before the sting of it reaches my nerves.
In a blurred moment, I'm crumpled on the ground clutching the side of my face. A ringing throbs across my skull as I struggle to gather my bearings. I make no move to stand. No one offers me help.
With my right eye already swelling shut, I look over to Jax. His shoulders are slumped forward, and his head, half bowed, studies me with a calculated expression. His eye darts to the rafters up above then back to me several times, but I do not understand what he wishes to convey. Just as I catch my breath, fingers scrape against my scalp and latch onto my snow-white hair. I stumble as I am pulled to my feet.
"Don't think you're getting off that easy," Carrie hisses before flinging me into the ropes of the ring. I grapple at the chaffing ropes to maintain some semblance of balance. The crowd declares their approval with loud applause.
"Enough," Noah instructs and waves Carrie off. "Leave her and go back to your place."
Carrie sneers at Noah but does as she’s told, going back into one of the corners. I stare at her livid expression and wonder if she knows how little it covers her embarrassment and shame.
Had she really conceded all power to Noah?
"Let the dog fight commence! Bring in the challenger!"
All eyes turn to the front of Trammel House where the crowd splits enough for the challenger to enter. From my vantage point, I can make out the fighter easily. It's Deval Mangal. His shaggy dark hair is pulled into a tight bun atop his head, and his patchy beard is shaved away to reveal a strong jaw and impassive expression. My heart plummets inside my chest.
