- Pique His Curiousity
Kier
I 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.
1 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 what her back is and I feel my rage build.
Reaching for her, I hesitate. Where do the lines begin with this woman. and where do they end? Touching her…is that crossing a line?
Hell if I know.
My fingers graze her cheek, turned to the side, and she whimpers, muttering something incoherent. Her skin burns like fire and I snatch my hand back.
She tilts her head slightly, and I note the sweat that dampens her pale hair, causing it to stick to her skin. Lush, dark lashes flutter open, and
*25 BONUS
stunning violet eyes stare at me, glazed. Her full brows furrow and her lips, seducing now, even as they are pale and bloodless, part and she whispers, “I’m sorry, mother. I’ll never leave again.”
Delirium. Not a good sign.
I lift her off the floor, avoiding her back and she sobs as I lower her unto the bed, placing her on her stomach.
“Jessamine,” I say softly, and her eyes open again. She squints, though her eyes remain glazed.
“Kier,” she responds, burying her head into the pillow. Her hair spill over her face like a curtain and my fingers twitch, eager to tuck the wispy strands behind her ear. “Goddess bless me, I’m the luckiest woman in
the world.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Even now?
“The doctor’s on his way. The straps of your dress are cutting into the wound further, restricting the healing process. I need to-”
“You want to take my dress off?” she whispers, eyelids drooping heavily. “Please do. Take my clothes off, Alpha.”
Heat pricks my skin as her vile words plant obscene images in my head.
Claws slicing off the frail fabric, fingertips bracing her slim waist, my groin pressed flush against her backside, my tongue on her earlobe, tasting her soft skin, my teeth nipping on the spot between her neck and her shoulder…
I pull away swiftly, putting five feet of distance between us.
She chuckles softly, though it sounds more like a whimper. “Do I frighten you?”
“No,” I lie.
yenbung siy arbid
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She cracks an eye open. “Stop running from me then.”
Crossing my arms, I lean back against the wall. “You have a fever,” I tell her, steering the topic from the dangerous course it’s taking. My head hurts thinking hard about other things that could steer my thoughts away from the skirt of her dress riding up her golden thigh.
How long has it been since I’ve been with a woman? Very long. It’s the only reason why my thoughts are razed with images of my tongue tracing the outline of a maid’s thigh.
Goddess, I’m slowly losing my mind.
“The whip tends to bring a lot out of people. Fears, fevers… Her voice. trails off as she shudders and her small fingers grasp the pillows hard.
Even that small movement tortures me. Would she grab the pillow like that when her lover pushes into her from behind? It’s the most arousing thing I’ve seen in a while.
Fuck, even the woman’s smile is arousing.
I turn away sharply, heading for the door. “I’ll see to it that the doctor tends to you till you are healed. The Selection will be halted until your are recovered—*
“Kier,” she whispers, cutting me short, and I hate that my name on her lips sound like a benediction. An answer. A prayer. A plea.
Against my better judgement, I look back. Her eyes are silver–lined, and they sparkle like gemstones. “Please, stay.”
My fingers tighten around the doorknob, and I let them fall to my side. Damn it all. Mother did this. This is all Mother’s fault, I think as I return to the bed, settling on the flat mattress that offers little to no comfort from the wood underneath.
I should change the beds at the servants‘ quarters. Not because of
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Jessamine. The change is long overdue.
Keeping my gaze on the wall, I rip the back of her dress, mindful of the cuts, and I hesitate when I reach her waist. The whiplash wounds run below. My fingers curl into fists.
I’ve seen women naked before. This shouldn’t be difficult.
The silence is heavy and filled with dreadful promises as I shed the last of her ruined gown, pulling it out gently from underneath her, and toss it on the ground.
I go in search of a duvet in a wardrobe and I find that the woman has nothing but a pair of worn pants and heels in her wardrobe. Heels she had worn to the ball to sta
my attention.
When I return to her side and drape my coat over her petite form, I find that she’s fast asleep. She looks so young right now, defenseless and innocent–nothing like the woman who has been haunting me. I let myself study her for a moment.
Her hair, a dazzling blonde that reminds me of platinum, catches the light in a way that’s hard to ignore, and as I raise my fingers to push the light strands back from her cheeks, the door opens.
Startled, I pull back, straightening as Adolf walks in, kit in hand. Randale’s standing by the door, watching me through narrowed eyes.
“Alpha–” Adolf starts, but I hold up a hand, silencing him.
“Carry on. I’ll have someone check in a few hours,” I say as I walk out the door, Randale hot on my trail.
“You were touching her hair, Kier,” Randale says. It isn’t a question. Or al statement. It’s a query.
“It’s just hair. Shall I touch yours too? Would you be happy then?” I mutter dryly.
“This isn’t a joke, Kier.”
I toss him a withering glare. “I am your Alpha. It’s a joke when I say it is.
My lips tug down. “Did you find anything on her?”
Randale sighs. “It’s a dead end. Her mother was mad, and her father is a complete mystery. Sources claimed Matilda had said severally that her husband fought in the Third Rogue War and never returned. I checked the records on every warrior and sentinel. There is no mention of any Nathan Everhart. Not even in the birth records of Neredia
“You think he was a figment of Matilda’s imagination?”
It is hard not to think so. No one else saw him or met him in the time of their acclaimed courtship Randale pauses. “Why are you interested in her life, Kier? A maid can’t be Luna
growl. “I do not plan on making her Luna. I’m curious is all. Now, more than ever. The blood–her blood, there’s nothing in it that reeks of submission of fear. She isn’t an Omega, Randale.”
