6. Chapter 4 Arden

Chapter six

Chapter 4: Arden

T wo more weeks in our cell, and I finally know why the subjects of this kingdom stared at Dira and I with such hatred when we first arrived. The kinder of the guards was willing to tell us when we asked.

They believe that King Ardeth caused King Esrend's death. According to the rumors, Ardeth sent a man to challenge Esrend in order to take over Solardin and combine the two kingdoms. So to the people of Solardin, we're the spawn of an evil man who caused the death of their beloved king.

And now, with Iona in custody in Feldorn, they believe that I am the reason that she is going to be put to death. And, technically, they're not wrong. Falmir isn't as appreciated here, but Iona has the city wrapped around her little finger.

I haven't told Dira who our grandfather is out of spite. If she's going to hate the people of Feldorn so much, she doesn't get to know the kind ones. Not even the one related to us.

I'm pissed that I was stuck with Todd while she was here in the company of our people. And that she used that time to enact a vendetta against the people of Feldorn instead of doing something productive like uniting the kingdoms. I'm furious with her for letting the vampires know about Livarius and me.

There are other prisoners in the cells around us. Most of them are women from Feldorn, and most of them are pregnant. Dira maintains that she doesn't know how they got here, but I don't trust her. Nevidian's disregard for other fae made it clear that none of our people are safe with him.

Our people. They are still my people even though I was banished. They're the ones that keep me going. Airen, and Helena, and Jobie; my mates—even Zorvan.

Camus is due for a visit as he's been coming to the dungeon more frequently the last few days. Each day his touches, though still possessive, become more tender. And yesterday, time with him was almost pleasant.

The brothers couldn't look more different, and yet, aside from Camus' eyes, neither of them resembles Livarius. Where Camus has blonde hair and hazel eyes, Gormon favors his father with dark hair and amber eyes. If you combine their appearances, and slap a long wig on them you end up with Iona.

They enter the cell together and the guard locks the door behind them. Camus approaches me as Gormon stands in front of Dira. Experiencing this situation is hard, but knowing Dira is experiencing it too is unbearable. Despite all of her failings, she's still my baby sister.

Camus strokes my cheek with his thumb. "You ready for me, Arden?"

"Fuck off."

"Speak nice to me or I'll take Grandmother up on her offer to find a 'proper mate'. One who won't embarrass me in public."

A growl rumbles low in my throat startling me, and drawing the attention of the guard, Dira, and Gormon.

"Stars," Camus breathes. "Your eyes are even more beautiful when your animal comes out to play. What beast lives inside of you, love? A doe? A rabbit? Or maybe a sweet little manticore cub?"

"I wouldn't know. I never had the chance to shift."

"Shame. Maybe we can remedy that soon. You just have to prove to me that you're willing to obey me."

He threads his fingers through my unwashed slightly matted hair and pulls as hard as he can. He's trying to get me to scream, or at least whimper. He tips my head back and growls when I refuse to give him what he wants. He slaps my cheek lightly before grabbing my chin and sniffing along the column of my neck. I'm sure there are puncture wounds all along the flesh there.

"You need to eat and bathe more," he growls when he finds my scent unappealing.

"Take that up with your grandmother," I say through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I will. But for now..." He pulls my dress over my head and licks his lips as he takes me in. "It doesn't matter. I would take you no matter what mess you were in."

He palms my right breast with his hand and hums at the softness. I accept the pleasure of his touch. I fought him the first few days, but that just resulted in more pain for me and for Dira. They learned pretty quickly that I would fall in line if they threatened her. Not before I got a good shot in at Camus, though.

His rough fingers move over my skin. He grabs my hand and presses it to his growing erection. "I hate that I can only do this a couple of times per day. Those Feldorn idiots don't know what they're missing," he purrs in my ear.

"I still don't know why we have to do this. I'm not in heat and I won't be for another two months at least."

"We're working on a fix for that. But in the meantime, I'm just enjoying our new bond. Don't you feel better when I'm around?"

I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that my soul feels more at ease with him here, so I ignore his question and ask my own. "What kind of fix?"

"Our alchemists are trying to create something that will cause the heat to come on early." He gives me a devious smile. "Within a month, you should be incubating my child. Grandmother wants you pregnant so if those damn shifters come sniffing around, you'll be spoiled for them.

"Won't that be fun? I do hope that Grandmother allows you to stick around after that," he says, roughly shoving two digits inside of me. "I quite like having you here. Maybe I can convince her to keep you around to make a spare. Who am I kidding? I won't let her get rid of you."

"I promise you that even if I do become pregnant with your spawn, I'll kill the damn thing before it breathes its first breath."

It's an empty threat and I think he knows that. I could never harm a child, especially not mine. Even if it were his bastard. And even though Camus is far more terrifying than Falmir, Livarius turned out okay. Though he was away from the influence of his father.

The horror of Camus' words sink in—less than a month. That's all the more time I have to get away from this place.

Camus chuckles darkly and forces me on to my knees, the hard stone colliding with my skin. "Well if you kill the child, we'll have to do this all over again, won't we?" I risk a glance at my sister who is being tenderly loved by Gormon as Camus frees his hard length from his pants. The fresh and clean scent of his body that hits my nose is in stark contrast to the dank rot of our cell. I can't grasp how he enjoys being with me in this state.

He shoves himself past my lips. He pistons his hips, gliding himself back and hitting my throat over and over again. The first time he did this I bit him. And then he stabbed Dira in the calf and wouldn't let the healers fix her for almost a full day. Gormon wasn't here, but when he found out he was furious. Camus returned that night with a black eye.

Once he's satisfied with fucking my throat he pushes me on to my stomach and lifts my ass into the air. With one solid thrust he's inside of me. I drift away in my mind. Because while he's attempting to put an heir in my belly, I'm back in my room in Feldorn.

Livarius' arms are wrapped around me while Lysander smiles at me and absently plays with a lock of my hair. Jarrah and Tavin are laughing together, while Emyth sits in the corner, watching us with those beautiful, kind eyes. All is right in the world. Except Zorvan isn't there. Then again none of them are, really. I'm on the cold dirty ground of my cell, and a wicked vampire is spilling his seed inside of me, hoping I'll give him a son.

I have about one month before I'm pregnant with his child. There's a primal part of me that wants that, but Camus is not who I would choose to father any of my children.

Most of the fae men are not men I would choose to raise a baby with. I miss the gentleness of my sweet Livarius. I miss the way he knew exactly how rough he should be with me. Livarius would be the most kind and loving father to any child.

Each of the Keepers would bring something amazing to the table. Together we could raise a sweet little family. I lose myself in daydream after daydream. Jarrah, teaching our child how to fight, and Lysander teaching them how to read the stars and the bones. A little tiger shifter like Tavin running around and chasing after Livarius and me in the woods. Or maybe a beautiful blonde boy with dark shadows and healing hands.

But that's all out of reach. It's been three weeks and they still haven't shown up. I expected them to find me by now, but there's been no sign. I wonder if they've forgotten me. I wonder if the distance made them realize that Zorvan was right and that I wasn't a worthy mate. Surely Livarius wouldn't ever think that way.

Tears pool silently beneath me on the stone floor. I'm glad that Camus can't see my face because the tears only turn him on. He's terrifying. But I think the most terrifying thing about him is that he is actually starting to fall in love with me.

***

Camus is gone all of four hours before he comes back to take us to the public bathhouse. Everyone in the castle in Feldorn had their own bathrooms so I assumed that smaller homes did as well, but apparently that's a luxury reserved for royals. Most homes in the villages have outhouses, and commoners share a bathhouse.

"It's kind of late for a bath, isn't it?" Dira asks as the guard shackles us.

"Gormon and I wanted privacy with you two. It wasn't fair to close the bathhouse when people use it most."

"Why not just take us to your quarters?" I ask. My stomach turns sour when I realize that I don't hate the idea of alone time with him.

"Grandmother insists that if we take you to our rooms then we need to take the guards with us, and I don't really want them in my room. I'm a private person." He smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and whispers, "That's why I haven't told anyone but my brother about our mated status. You're my little secret. And Grandmother is already convinced you'll be our downfall after you stabbed my poor cousin."

"He deserved it," I say.

"Indeed he did. If you hadn't put a knife in him, I probably would have. You're mine."

He places his hand on the back of my neck and squeezes as he leads me out of the dungeon. They took our shoes our first day so that we would be less likely to run. So we walk down the street barefoot. Thankfully it's only about a block from the dungeon to the bathhouse.

The guards at the bathhouse open the door and let us inside. As soon as the tumblers of the locks engage, Camus and Gormon remove our shackles.

"Go on. Get undressed," Camus says, pulling off his own shirt and pants.

I remove my dress and walk toward the large, steamy pool of water. It has steps leading down into it and my movements are intentional as I enter the water, careful not to slip. Camus laces his fingers with mine. When I glance up at him, he's smiling down at me. There's a softness behind his eyes—almost loving.

Once we're deep enough he ducks below the water and resurfaces, shaking his head like a dog. His blond curls throw water all over, causing tiny ripples in the surface of the water. He looks playful, and charming like this.

"What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head to the side.

"You were smiling at me. That's the first time that's ever happened."

"For a second, you just seemed...normal," I say with a chuckle. "Like you weren't a complete psychopath."

"I've got several qualities that don't revolve around being insane, but I don't like those ones as much."

"Well as long as you don't talk, I can pretend you're not evil."

He ducks down so the only parts of him that aren't submerged are his head and neck as I stand waist deep in the water with my arms held over my chest. He slowly wades toward me until he's directly in front of me.

"I'm not evil, Arden. I can assure you of that. And the only reason I know is because I've encountered true evil before. And it was not as kind or as good-looking as me."

He presses a kiss to my belly then stands so he's towering over me. Aside from their eyes, the only thing he has in common with Livarius is his height. I've never had a man make me feel small before I came to Feldorn.

He continues, "I may do things in ways that are unappealing to you, but I assure you that I do them all for very good reason."

He puts his hand out and waits for me to take it. My gaze shifts between the hand he's offering and his eyes. He waits patiently, never hurrying me or moving any closer. After everything he's taken from me, it feels like a trick. And taking his hand in mine, feels like an acceptance of our...situation. But he's the only hope I have of an ally beyond the walls of my cell.

I drop my arms from my chest and take his hand. He leads me deeper into the pool and positions us so that he's sitting on one of the benches, and I'm sitting in his lap. It doesn't escape me that he put us on the opposite side from my sister and his brother.

Dira and Gormon never talk—at least not while I'm awake. Camus on the other hand never shuts up. But right now, he's silent as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. It's not a sexual gesture. It's kind and warm, and for one fleeting moment, I allow myself to believe that he's not what he's made himself out to be.

"Let's get you clean," he whispers into my ear, and gently pushes me away from him so I can properly bathe.

I duck beneath the water and stay there for a few seconds before popping back up above it. Camus is watching me hungrily, but he doesn't move for me. When they brought us here earlier in the week, the guards made it very clear that prisoners didn't get soaps or even sponges.

They said 'the crown is not responsible for luxuries', and allowed us all of three minutes to dunk in the water and leave so the commoners didn't have to breathe the same air as us for too long. I stand there waiting for him to tell us that time is up, and he gives me a curious look.

"What?" I ask.

"You're just standing there staring at me. Do you need something?" He raises an eyebrow and gives me a smile.

Just like my other mates, that gorgeous smile could win him any girl in the kingdom. And here he is, mated to me.

"I just...we had a very strict time limit last time."

"Last time, I wasn't in charge. Wash yourself properly. There will be no more short baths. I even brought soaps and oils for you." He jerks his head to the right. "I didn't know which scent you preferred. But none of them are too strong. I prefer your natural scent."

My cheeks heat. Every time any of them mentions the way I smell, it makes me nervous and excited. Ever since Jarrah told me that the fae could scent my arousal, I've become very aware of when I need a bath.

I cross to where the oils are perched on the edge of the pool and brush my fingers against the fronts of them. There's a bottle with a purple liquid in it that looks like the one I used in Feldorn. I uncork the lid and inhale the scent, and when it hits my nose tears threaten to spill. The scent reminds me so much of Feldorn that it's overwhelming. The memories flood back, and I nearly crumple against the side of the pool.

Camus approaches as I choke back a sob. "Shhhh don't cry, love. It's just soap. And you know how much your tears turn me on, darling. If you keep that up, you won't get clean at all. What's wrong?"

I wipe my eyes and he spins me to face him.

"I miss Feldorn," I whisper, trying to hold back another sob. And I can't help it as the tears spill freely from my eyes, joining the rest of the water in the pool.

Camus then does something I don't expect. He pulls me against his chest and holds me to him. His embrace is tight, as if he thinks it might push all my pieces back together. And when he rests his head on top of mine, I start to think it will.

"You will see it again one day," he whispers so quietly that I almost don't hear him. "I swear it to you. I just need you to help me out a little. At least pretend to fall in line."

He pushes me back just a few inches so he can look down into my eyes. "I do not want you to stay caged. You are my mate, and I will not have you locked up like livestock. But Grandmother will never let you out if she thinks you're a danger. Do you understand?"

I nod and wipe my eyes. "I'll do what I can."

He snorts and returns to his normal speaking voice. "And to think Grandmother sent my cousin to break you when all she needed to do was give you a bottle of soap."

His humor is dark, and I'm sure one day I'll have to process all of the trauma of being here. But for now it at least pulls a chuckle from me.

He gently takes the bottle from my hand, but I take it back from him. "Not this one. It'll make me too homesick. New castle, new soap. Which one is your favorite?"

His eyes light up when I ask him as if he's been waiting for me to willingly give him some of the control he's wielded against me for the last several days. He reaches for a bottle with yellow liquid and pours some of it into his palm. "Turn around."

I do as he says and he begins working the soap into a lather in my hair and I inhale the new but calming scent. It smells like him. It's as if he's marking me with his signature smell. I can't place it. It's warm and sunny and though it doesn't smell like his natural scent, it compliments it well.

"What did you like most about Feldorn?" he asks, likely as a distraction.

"The gardens," I say with a happy sigh as I drift away to memories of the warm sun and fragrant flowers. "And the library."

"No doubt because of my brother," Camus says, and my shoulders tense. He kisses the crook of my neck and whispers, "It's okay. I was angry at first, but I've had some time to reflect. It wasn't anger so much as it was jealousy. I've just waited so long for you; many centuries, in fact. And here, my baby brother went and got to you first. Rinse."

The last word is a command, and I dip beneath the water and run my fingers through my hair to remove the suds. When I resurface, he spins me to face him and tips my chin up.

"We got off to a rocky start. But you have to understand that now that you're mine, I will give you the fucking moons if you ask me for them."

He doesn't let me respond before he kisses me and wraps my legs around his waist. He's tried to kiss me before, but I've always resisted. This time I don't just let him, but I return the kiss.

I still don't trust him, but I need something to keep me going. I hum softly into his mouth as the sunshiny scent of him washes over me, and the rest of the world disappears around us.

But then, a feeling not of my own, courses through me. It doesn't feel like Camus' either, and I push away from him. I feel like I've done something horribly wrong by engaging with Camus because whatever I just felt was Livarius. It's as though it was a reminder that even with no other choice, I've betrayed him.

"What's wrong?" Camus asks, and he steps toward me, but I shift away. "Don't tell me you weren't enjoying that," he says with a scoff.

"It's not that..."

"Then what is it?" He's concerned. But I can't tell him the truth. It'll just piss him off.

"It was just a lot of emotions and stuff," I say and internally curse myself for being so vague and sounding like an idiot.

"Okay..." He's suspicious, but he doesn't push it. "Let me brush those tangles out of your hair and we'll get back to your cell. Grandmother won't want you out and about too long."

I nod. So thankful that he was willing to forget it so quickly. I know he doesn't believe me, but I'll take the small reprieve he's giving me tonight. I know that tomorrow we'll go back to him coming to the cell to fuck me, and me wasting away in that horrible place.

Another rush of Liv's happiness courses through me, and I can't help but to return that feeling of joy. I hope that he can feel it on his end. I hope it's enough that he can sense that I'm still alive. And I hope that whatever is making him so happy hasn't replaced his love for me.