Chapter 6 : The Stranger's Kiss

*Ember*

The Grim pack had only just arrived, but the party was already in full swing. Warriors laughed and talked with pretty females in colorful gowns. Goblets of ale and wine were passed around freely through the crowd, along with a variety of dishes popular with the packs from the north.

I scanned the throng of people, but there was no sign of the hooded stranger. Was it possible that he was one of Lukas’ warriors, or even his Beta? I had never seen my savior’s face and realized with a sinking feeling that he could be right in front of me and I wouldn’t know unless he chose to reveal himself.

As I walked deeper into the hall, I felt the others’ curious eyes on me. I did my best to ignore them as I approached the Alpha King, who was deep in conversation with a male that I guessed to be Lukas’ Beta.

“Alpha King, your daughter has arrived,” the shifter said, nodding towards me.

My father, with his back still turned to me, waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t make a fool out of herself tonight,” he smirked. Still not even bothering to glance at me, he commanded, “Dance.”

Saying nothing, I drifted out into the crowd and began to sway in time with the music. As I swirled to the beat, I started to hear whispers flooding the space around me.

“Who is that?” one of the warriors asked another.

“She’s lovely,” a female commented in an awed tone.

“Is that…is that the princess?” another shifter mused.

My lips curved into a small smile as I danced. Nobody had ever complimented me before. While I had certainly been the subject of many leers and crude comments over the years, this was the first time anybody had ever spoken of me with such reverence and admiration before.

Was this what it was supposed to feel like to be a princess of the Silver Crescent?

The moment, however, was short-lived, as the music was quickly overpowered by a roar of rage emanating from the other end of the hall.

I turned and saw my father loping towards me, his face red and contorted with fury. Lukas followed on his heels, glaring at me.

“How dare you?” my father bellowed, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. “How fucking dare you?”

I began to back away, but I was walled in by a sea of Grims, and there was nowhere for me to go.

“How dare you defy me in my own castle!” he raged, grabbing me by the wrists and shaking me violently. “I say what you do, where you go, what you wear. When I tell you to put on a fucking dress, I expect you to do it!”

“Leave me alone!” I shouted. My father gave my wrists a sharp yank, dragging me forwards and towards the door to the antechamber. I had a terrible feeling that if he took me out of this room, I would never survive what he planned to do to me.

As I struggled against the Alpha King’s iron grasp, I frantically tried to make eye contact with the people around me. Most of them averted their gaze, though a few of the females watched with wide, fear-washed eyes.

Where was my savior? He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to stop this from happening. Where was he?

My father managed to drag me into the antechamber, Lukas still trailing him. The Alpha King pushed my back roughly against the sharp castle wall, pinning me.

“Alpha King, how can you ever hope to control the throne of the Silver Crescent if you cannot control your own whore of a daughter?” Lukas spat, his eyes blazing with anger.

My father rounded on him, shoving the younger shifter back. “Watch your tone, pup,” he snarled. “I am your elder, your Alpha, and your King.”

Lukas looked like he wanted to say more, but he clamped his jaw shut.

“Go back to the party,” the Alpha King commanded. “I shall rejoin you shortly.”

Growling something under his breath, Lukas nodded darkly and stalked back towards the hall.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, my father slapped me hard in the face, sending the back of my head smashing against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. “You’ve ruined the alliance. Lukas will never take your useless body now.” He slapped me again, and another burst of pain lit my nerves.

The pain shocked me into a sudden realization: my hooded savior was not coming. I was alone.

My father stepped back, and I thought for a moment that he might leave me alone, but then he brought his boot up and caught me with a swift kick to my gut.

Groaning in pain, I doubled over as my back slid down the wall. My father took the opportunity to swoop in again. This time, he clasped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze.

My hands flew up to his, my nails scratching desperately at his fingers as I choked and gasped for breath. Laughing cruelly, he only tightened his grip, and my vision began to fray at the edges.

He leaned his head close to mine, a sick grin pulling his face into a twisted mask. “This is what you deserve,” he whispered into my ear.

I didn’t think. My hand just seemed to know what to do. I stopped fighting against my father’s grip, and instead reached up to grasp the ornate ivory handle that was nestled in my hair. Before the Alpha King could even register what was happening, I drew the knife out of my hair and down towards his exposed arms.

The blade flashed through the air and then hit its mark. My father let out a great howl of pain and released me, staggering back and clutching at his arm. Rivulets of blood trickled from where I had wounded him, trailing down his arm and cutting crimson veins down his fingers.

Coughing and gasping for air, I clawed my way up the wall until I was standing and then waited to see what my father would do next.

I had expected him to charge at me, to beat me senseless, but he just stared at me. His eyes were wide, and there was something unfamiliar shining in them–fear.

His gaze flashed down briefly to the knife I still held. My hand was slick with his blood, the ivory hilt stained pink.

Finally he spoke. “Go to your room,” he croaked, backing away from me slowly. “You’ll be Lukas’ problem in the morning.”

Horrified at what I had just done, I turned and fled. My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest. The smell of blood–the Alpha King’s blood–swirled around me in a sickening cloud.

Nobody would get away with raising a hand to the Alpha King. I had seen my father have people executed for less. But now I had committed one of the ultimate crimes: I had drawn the blood of the Alpha King. There was no way he would let me live now.

A strangled sob escaped my lips as I reached the door to my chamber. Panicked, I threw myself inside and slammed the door shut behind me. My father had never allowed me to have a lock on my door, so I ran to the vanity and grabbed the chair. I wedged the piece of furniture tightly against the door, hoping that it would hold when the guards came for me.

It was only then that I realized I was still holding the knife. With a trembling hand, I set it down on the vanity. I could barely see it in the dark, and I was glad for it. I didn’t want to see the bloody smears that my hand had left on the hilt. I didn’t want the reminder of what I had done.

I stood there for a long moment before forcing myself to enter the bathroom. Earlier in the evening, the maids had washed my face with a basin of water, but they had forgotten to empty it. Grateful for their oversight, I dipped my bloodied hand into the cold water and began to scrub. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I used a cloth to remove the evidence of my guilt, watching the water blossom pink around my skin.

After a while, I dried my hands on my dress. Then I snuffed out the lone candle that lit the bathroom and returned to my darkened room.

I was about to slip the straps of the silver dress off my shoulder when I heard the window open from the outside. My breath hitched in my throat, and I tensed. Not daring to move, I listened as I heard the slightest rustle as the hooded stranger slipped into the shadows of my room.

“Are you here to save me?” I asked bitterly, thinking of the look in my father’s eyes as he tried to wring the life out of me. “Or are you just here to bring me gifts and false hope?”

The stranger didn’t answer, but I could feel his presence as he approached. Still, I didn’t turn to face him, even when I felt a warm, gentle hand squeeze my shoulder.

“He tried to kill me tonight,” I told him, my voice shaking. “Why didn’t you come for me?”

Wordlessly, the hooded stranger spun me around. I could barely see his outline against the velvet darkness. His hand left my shoulder and ghosted over the hand-shaped bruises that were forming on my neck. I shivered at his touch, warmth prickling across my skin.

He moved slowly, as if to tell me that I could stop him at any time, and bowed his head to my temple, where he planted a gentle kiss. My eyes fluttered closed as his lips trailed a series of kisses down across my bruised cheek where my father had slapped me so viciously only minutes before. To my disappointment, the stranger stopped just before his lips met mine.

And then, just when I thought he would pull away, his lips came down on mine in a passionate, searing kiss. Heat flared in my belly as he snaked his arms around me and pulled me close. I could feel the straining muscles of his chest against my breasts as his lips ravaged my own.

Feeling empowered, I began to respond, deepening the kiss and wrapping my arms around his neck. My affections earned a deep growl of approval that purred alluringly through his chest. He caught my bottom lip with his teeth, and when I gasped, he took the opportunity to slip his probing tongue between my parted lips.

A moan escaped me as our tongues danced, and our hearts raced. My whimpers only spurred him on. One of his hands glided up my back and toyed with the strap of my dress. Slowly, he slipped the strip of silk off of my shoulder and traced where it had been with one burning finger.

He broke the kiss then, and we both panted into the space between us, our breath mingling. He moved his hand to the other strap of my dress and toyed with it, and I realized with a jolt of longing that he was silently asking me for my permission.

I had never felt like this before. Desire raced through my veins like a drug. Warmth pooled low in my belly, and I found myself blushing at the thought of what I wanted the stranger to do to me.

“I want you,” I breathed, closing the distance between us and capturing his lips with my own.

As if those were the magic words, the hooded stranger slipped the strap of my dress off my shoulder, leaving fire in his wake.