Dionne
The silence inside the car was heavier than any scream I'd heard back in that auction house. Not even the hum of the engine dared to interrupt it. It was just stillness, and it sent shivers down my spine.
Nora sat curled in my lap, fast asleep, her small hand tangled tightly in the fabric of my dress. Her face was red and puffy from all the crying.
Every second felt borrowed. Every moment that passed without someone screaming orders or trying to drag us apart made my stomach twist tighter.
I didn't see the man with the gray eyes after we left the building. Instead, we had been handed off to two stone-faced men dressed in black. They said nothing as they ushered us into a sleek, black vehicle.
We weren't told where we were going. We weren't told anything, and I didn't ask. I didn't care anymore.
What did it matter? It wouldn't change the situation for us.
I clutched Nora tighter, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. I needed to protect my child better. We both had the rogue burn and were now heading into an unknown territory. No matter what happened, no one could know where we originally came from and why we were rogues.
Being a rogue was one thing, but being an accused murderer who had escaped sentencing was something that would mark me for life, making it almost impossible to find sanctuary or forgiveness anywhere in this world.
We drove for a very long time, long enough that the sun faded and the world around us turned black. At some point, I noticed we were no longer on paved roads but winding, forested terrain. The trees were taller and denser.
Eventually, the forest gave way to stone. Massive stones.
The car came to a halt before a massive iron gate carved with sigils I didn't recognize. They glowed faintly under the moonlight.
The gate opened without a sound.
The air shifted as we passed through the open gate. It was subtle, but I felt it. Like the entire world beyond the estate had exhaled, and this place had inhaled, swallowing us whole.
The estate that we entered was vast, impossibly so, its walls and towers stretching far into the distance, before disappearing into the tree line.
Golden lights flickered along the outer walkways and terraces, casting the courtyard in a warm glow.
I didn't realize I was trembling until Nora whimpered and shifted in my arms. The car slowed as we moved into a wide circular courtyard. The fountain at its center was made of black marble, and carved into the shape of a great wolf's head, mouth parted to spill water into the basin below. Even something as simple as a fountain, felt so menacing.
The engine purred to a stop. The door opened, and one of the men motioned with a nod.
"Out."
I hesitated. Then I moved.
I was led into the fortress and inside the walls, it was quieter than any place I'd ever known. No barking of orders. No shouts or snarls or chaos. Just stillness. Cold, deliberate stillness.
A woman in a black dress exited one of the rooms, she had her hair bound in tight braids, her eyes unreadable and her lips were pursed into a thin line. She reminded me of Matron Shaw, only slightly younger.
"I'm Margaret, the head maid here. This way." She introduced.
I said nothing as I followed her, Nora's arms were now wrapped around my neck, her eyes were wide open as she took in the space.
"Are you okay baby?" I whispered to her and she nodded her head.
"Look mommy, pretty," Nora commented, pointing towards one of the paintings on the wall.
"Shhhh." I hushed her, noting the stink eye that Margaret sent our way. "It's beautiful baby, but be quiet and don't point." I whispered softly to my child, hurrying my steps so I could meet up with Margaret who was already at the far end of the hallway.
The woman was surprisingly fast for her age.
The corridors were long and tall, carved in pale gray marble veined with blue. Beautiful portraits lined the walls and for a second I wished I could stop and admire them. But I didn't try to.
I hated how clean everything was. Hated how soft my bare feet felt against the carpets. I felt too dirty being in the space.
Margaret cast a glance over her shoulder. "Is the child useful?"
I stiffened. "She's mine."
"That's not what I asked."
Before I could respond, a new voice spoke from down the hall.
"I'll handle them from here, Margaret."
A tall man with ocean blue eyes and a kinder expression approached and Margaret gave him a small bow, her eyes lingering on my frame with disapproval before she walked away. The man approached, he looked no older than thirty, but his presence felt suffocating. It was less commanding than the man with the grey eyes, but still pretty heady.
"Silas," he said with a nod. "Beta of the Obsidian Falls. The King's second."
The words echoed in my head and my knees went weak at the same time that my stomach flipped.
We were in the Lycan Kingdom?