Word Count: 2659

~Aesira

I'm not going to do anything stupid tonight. I hope.

The manor is unbearably still this evening. It's well past midnight, nearing on the hour of the devil as I pick my way slowly through the claustrophobic halls.

I'm not breaking Lincoln out. Not tonight. I'm going to find a viable vantage point on this property and stake out for most of the night. My hope is to learn guard patrol routes around Everin's front entrance, and flesh out any weaknesses I can exploit later.

Too bad this house is insanely complicated. It's practically inescapable at this hour.

I feel like I've been walking for two long. I can't see a damn thing, my hands planted on either wall beside me as I navigate the long corridors. I should have encountered the side door by now, but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

At this point, I may as well continue walking. I have to be spat out at an exterior door or window at some point.

The carpet feels like velvet under my feet as I walk. Occasionally I feel the ridges of doors and the slopes of handles, but I continue walking straight.

Suddenly, I reach the end of the hallway. I can feel a solid door and see light leaking out from below it. Well shit, I've walked too far in the wrong direction.

"Aesira?"

I yelp, whirling around. I can't see much but the silhouette of Everin's body in the hallway. It's absolutely, bone-chillingly terrifying. His form consumes the entire space, blocking any exit.

"Fuck." I plaster myself against the door behind me. "Everin...why are you so fucking quiet? You're the size of a building yet your ability to disappear in shadows is uncanny."

He reaches beside him, cracking open another door. It fills the corridor with light, making me blink warily until my eyes adjust.

There he is, in all his form. Tall, broad and glaring at me.

"I think I liked it better when you were afraid of me," he murmurs darkly.

I almost laugh. He doesn't think I'm afraid of him? I'm terrified of him, I just try not to spend too much time thinking about all the ways he can kill me. In this dark hallway, however, it's hard not to.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" I blurt out stupidly.

He folds his powerful arms over his muscular chest, which is obscenely naked and glazed in sweat. I allow myself a fleeting moment to register the tattoos on his chest and arms, that are visible despite the lack of lighting.

"Here? As in my home?" He leans a shoulder against the wall. "In my quarters?"

"This is your..."

I'm In a foolish, careless idiot. The realisation is dawning on me now, that I can scent him everywhere here. He smells like the sea on a cold day, and right now, like sweat and musk.

"Personal wing of the house? Yes, and that's my bedroom door you're standing in front of." He gestures behind me.

"Oh shit." I quickly sidle past him so he can get to his door. Instead of entering it, and saving me anymore shame, he pauses right in front of it and turns to face me.

Why is he so slick with sweat? It's dampened his forehead enough for dark strands of hair to stick to it, and there is a hasty rise and fall to his chest, like he's been exerting himself physically.

"Here to assassinate me?" He asks.

"No." I wish.

He turns his gaze downward, inspecting my clothing. I try not to fidget under his severe, unabashed scrutiny. I'm dressed in all black clothing I requested from a sceptical Maven, a hood draped on my shoulders that's ready to be pulled over my head when needed.

"Going somewhere?" The accusation hangs heavy in the air between us.

"Just outside for some air. I must has taken a wrong turn," I say breezily, hoping it isn't obvious that I was planning to spend most of my night camped out by the bushes near his front gate.

His eyes narrow. "A bit dressed up for some air, don't you think?"

"Considering it's my clothing, I think that's up for me to decide," I bite back.

It's taking a great deal of effort not to let my eyes devour the sight of his body. If he were anyone else, I would boldly admire it and wonder what it would look like beneath me.

Instead, I keep my eyes trained on his, only letting them drift around his face. Shadows sulk beneath his prominent cheekbones, making him even more imposing and wrathful looking.

"Why don't I take you to get some air myself? I could use some." It sounds less like an offer and more like a threat.

"I'll take a very, very hard pass on that, Alpha." Even if I weren't doing something suspicious, I don't prefer to be alone with him. "Why are you sweating anyway? It's freezing tonight."

He looks over himself, seeming to realise he's half naked and glistening with sweat.

When he looks back up at me, there's a dangerous glint in his eye. "Not in my room, it's not."

It dawns on my suddenly, what he has been up to. Mortification stains my skin a variety of shades of red and pink. How did I not realise it the moment I saw him.

"You were having sex," I deadpan.

"I wasn't having sex, I had sex," he clarifies. I'm not sure why the distinction matters, but I get the feeling he's implying he wouldn't be standing here otherwise.

I shift from foot to foot, hating the thoughts that keep coming to mind the more I look at him.

I wonder what it would feel like to have someone as physically proficient as an Alpha in my bed...Especially if he's fucking me hard enough to sweat like this.

Shaking my head, I force the thought out of my mind. There is a much larger issue to focus on.

"Is it Tarnia in your room?" I point at the door behind him.

He folds his powerful arms across his chest. "So what if she is? Our union is hardly traditional, so I shall share my bed with who I like."

My eyes narrow. I'm not sure why that digs under my skin so proficiently, but it does, and now I'm irritated.

"Shall I be given the same courtesy?" Not that I'm here for that. My focus will always be on Lincoln, and resuming our relationship once he's free from prison.

"That is your prerogative, however, you shall be put on a tonic immediately." His eyes drop to my stomach, like he can see to my womb. "I can't have a bastard born roaming through my halls."

My jaw hardens, teeth pressing together tightly. I won't let him goad me.

"Is Tarnia naked in your room?" I ask.

He frowns in that dark, broody way of his. "Of course she's naked. We just established that I fucked her."

It is so unfair. She is here, favoured by an Alpha, sharing his bed, and yet Lincoln is rotting in prison for her actions, for her deception. It casts a sour taste on my tongue, my stomach stirring with nausea. Why does she get to win, and someone I care about so much has to suffer?

"You know what, her state of dress doesn't concern me. I want to see her," I demand. It's been some time since I've seen her, and I want to lay my eyes upon her.

"I don't think so." He broadens his stance, entirely blocking the door. "She won't be up for visitors. Not after the way I had her."

"Oh please, I doubt you're that good." I roll my eyes. "I want to speak with her."

He levels a look. "That might be difficult considering she's mute."

I sigh, exasperated. "She doesn't need a tongue for what I'm going to do to her."

Pushing forward, I aim for the door. My hand barely touches it before Everin has my forearm in his grip. I'm angry now, frustrated. I need someone to take it out on, and I would prefer it be Tarnia.

"Aesira. Stop," Everin orders coldly, his grip not loosening no matter how hard I tug.

"Let me go," I snap. "That rat bitch is going to pay."

I wrestle with him some more, desperately trying to get past. He manoeuvres me to the side, pressing my back into the wall. I attempt to break away, trying to remember Lincoln's instructions for escaping restraint, but Everin is an Alpha. He's too large and strong, both his hands on my arms, forcing me still against the wall.

"Pay for what?" He demands.

"Let me go!" I shriek, trying to kick at him, but he doesn't move an inch.

His face is marred with confusion. "Aesira, pay for what? She lost her ability to speak because of your father."

"She should have lost her life, because the intel she gave you is the reason my friend is going to lose his!" I yell.

Everin visibly recoils, but not enough to loosen his grip on me.

"What?"

I'm so angry, I'm seeing red. All I can envisage is my lover, locked in a dingy prison cell, being treated like shit. He'll be living with the weight of his imminent death on his shoulders, waiting for his execution day.

"Let me go Everin, I swear to—"

He shoves me into the wall harder. "Enough. If you feel this way, take your anger out on me. I'm probably the reason your friend is going to die."

"Oh trust me, you have it coming, and so does she," I growl harshly.

He's looking at me like an animal, and maybe in this moment, I am. I want to hurt Tarnia for her part in this. She actively led Everin's forces to my lover, knowing he would be alone and without protection.

She is the reason why he suffers. Her and Everin.

"Who is your friend?" Everin asks.

"Like I would tell you." I pulls at his arms, but they hold me steadfast. "He's to be executed."

His eyes shutter. He really has the gall to look surprised. I'm sure those waiting to be executed is numerous, meaning he would have a near impossible task tracking Lincoln down as who I'm referencing.

Tarnia's deceit led to the apprehension of plenty of my fathers soldiers.

"If he's to be executed, then he must have committed a heinous act." His forearm braces across my chest, keeping me pinned. I can feel the muscle flexing. There's no way I can fight my way out of this.

My eyes narrow. "Being a solider in my father's army is such a terrible crime to you, isn't it?"

"What do you think happens to members of my army across your fathers lines?" He angles his head. "Do you think he's so forgiving of their loyalty to me?"

Shamefully, I don't know what happens to members of Everin's army once they are captured by my father's forces. I can't imagine they befall a positive fate, but that doesn't mean what Everin is doing is right either.

"Get off me," I demand, pushing at him again.

He leans forward, his eyes endlessly dark. I press harder back into the wall at his nearing proximity, at the vicious look cleaving across his features.

It's a goddess damned curse that he's so fucking attractive. I hate that he's half naked, I hate that he smells like sex, and I hate...I hate everything about him.

"Do not touch Tarnia, or I will tear your throat out, do you understand?" He says it so softly, the threat almost sounds like seduction. "Being my wife doesn't protect you from me. If I find out you're here to act against me, or if you harm anyone within my home or circle, you're dead."

He words cast a chill over my skin. I match his stare, refusing to cower.

He angles his head, gaze brushing against my mouth. "And if I catch you trying to sneak out, I'll drag you home and tie you down to your bed until you get it into your head that you're mine now, and your fate is in my hands."

He releases me, giving me the space to finally breathe.

I'll never be his. I'm giving him the illusion that I'm under his control, but he'll learn soon that he's the one being walked over.

"I'll be escorting you to your room," he announces, nodding down the hallway.

"Fuck you."

"You are a pleasant person, aren't you, Aesira?" His smile is tense and hollow. "I bet your father loved your spirit."

My spirit, so to speak, was my fathers least favourite thing about me. He attempted to beat it out of me on many occasions, but I learnt to not mind after a while. Sometimes it was the only time he would spend with me for months at a time.

"You have no idea," I grumble, deciding Everin doesn't need to learn about my colourful past.

Reluctantly, I allow Everin to walk me back to my room. Our footsteps are all that can be heard as we pass through the massive manor, darkness cloaking the halls, making them difficult to navigate.

Everin has no problem, leading me up the stairs and to the room.

I step inside the living space, flopping down the couch. I've decided my mission for tonight has been thwarted. Guards will suddenly become more cognisant of my positioning in the house after this interaction, I imagine.

Everin lingers in the doorway.

"Tarnia...she has had unfortunate luck in her life," he says softly.

I rest a cushion on my stomach, draping my arms over it. "Ah, so the goddess doesn't smile upon her then? What a poor excuse for a high priestess."

He sighs, bowing his head.

"She was raised in your father's pack, and forced into her role. When I met her...the state of her took my breath away." His voice sounds strained. "She was so broken. Her soul, her body...it was unbelievable."

"Yes, it sounds like it," I mutter.

"She didn't feed me intel initially. She was preaching in neutral territory when our relationship began," he explains solemnly. "I coaxed it out of her. Not because I wanted information to harm your fathers reign, but because I needed to know what was happening to her, who was doing these terrible things to her."

I pause.

"What terrible things?"

"That's not for me to tell," he says simply.

Perhaps terrible things did befall. Perhaps she was abused once it was revealed she was a traitor. Were that a fact alone, I would not revel in what she has endured. But knowing what she has cost me, what she has done to my life...I refuse to feel pity.

"Her intel lead to my friend being arrested, his village being burned down. In one moment, I lost him," I whisper harshly. "Because of her. Because of you."

"That is how you see it." He's uncompromising, refusing to even consider what has been taken from me.

It is not how I see it, it is how it is.

"I'm going to sleep. You can leave now." I cannot bear to speak to him a moment longer. His face reminds me of pain, of loss.

He goes pushes off the doorframe. "We marry in two days. You must prepare yourself."

He vanishes into the shadows, leaving me to ponder my future, and how I shall shape it around Everin's death.

❤️••❤️

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛