Reconciling With The Wrong Man In Bed
Selena’s POV “I could not hold on anymore, I’m sorry.” I playwith my fingers expecting to hear a reply. “It’s fine.” I squint my eyes in confusion. Nikolai rarely ever accepts to let things be. He dictates things to go his way or no other. Silence looms over us and I decide to drown myself in alcohol and have a temporary escape from this hellish side of the world. I grab the cup on the table careful not to spill it over and still conscious of the looming eyes fixed to my body. “I do not intend to drag a drunk woman up tonight.” He removes my fingers from the cup slightly and downs it in one go. “If you can do that, I can as well.” I take the drink between sips, the contract rules and regulations fresh in my head. “Your parents do not seem to have a very bright impression of me. They prefer Priscilla. Why?” I swallow another sip of the drink ignoring how light headed I am starting to feel. “Don Carlo, Priscilla's father, is strengthening his base. Only two things can be done, form an alliance or one of the families cease to exists.” He relaxes on the chair and watches me drink. “They can go ahead to get him together with your brother. I’m still yet to see him and his date for tonight.” A sharp glint flashes in his eyes. I shake my head and I take it as the reflection of the light on his face. “He has none and he is a whole lot mischievous than I am.” He chuckles slightly. “In what way?” “Don’t you owe me an apology, Selena?” Something about the way he pronounces my name does not feel right. It almost feels like it’s someone else with the same face. That’s not possible. It must be the alcohol taking effect already. “I’m sorry.” I stop myself from hiccuping and I walk up to no particular place. He follows. “I deserve an extra apology Selena.” I try to force my dizzy eyes to see who exactly is taking to me. Again, I see Nikolai’s face. “I know you want to punish me.” I dig my feet deeper into the floor so I do not fall. “The second door by your left.” I navigate through the hallways calculating the room till I get to it. I press the door knob and it opens immediately. Nikolai is extremely observing and cautious. Could this be because of the drink as well? I definitely cannot be the only one intoxicated. We’ll realize everything after all of this. “Come.” I walk towards him skeptical. His fingers graze over the back of my neck down my waist. His eyes darken and I know I’m in for one hell of a ride. “Your punishment today…do not utter a single sound.” I dig my fingers into his shoulders. I hate giving him the satisfaction of seeing the control he has over me but over time, he eventually ends up winning. His hands trail from the back of my waist to my stomach. I clamp my legs together shut afraid he will realize I gave up way earlier than him. “Selena, what a lovely name.” His hands go up to my breast. He runs his hand up and down teasing me. The heat from my leg travels all around my body and I can’t wait to be let go. I should have given the contract a second thought before I agreed to sign it. “Bend over.” He presses me down with his palm. “Touch your toes.” His voice deepens and a slight smile hangs on my lips. I have the same effect he has on me. I stay there bent over for eternity. “Nikolai?” “What exactly did I say your punishment would be?” I face palm myself on the inside when I realize just how much danger I’ve thrown myself in. “I don’t do things without consent.” He pulls off his shirt and goes to sit on the bed. “We signed the contract,” I say. He smirks. “I was not referring to that. If you don’t ask for it, I won’t give it to you.” “Please…” I'm drunk and I need him. He chuckles darkly and stands from the chair. His hands grip my breasts and his thumbs play magic on my nipples. “Please what, Selena?” He flicks my nipples so hard, I bite my tongue to stop myself from shouting. “No answer? Then I should go for the ass perhaps?” He slaps my ass hard, it stings even after he has stopped. “I want you.” I force myself to say it without panting. “What do you want from me Selena?” He inserts two fingers in my hole. “Sex. I want you to f**k me.” He wriggles the fingers in there like it’s a joke. “For disobeying me,your punishment is going to be a hard one. I’m going to fuck you till your lose your mind. You will talk dirty now or else we will start this over.” He inserts all of his glory in me and I see stars. “Who am I?” He drags me back and forth slowly. “Nikolai.” I follow his slow pace as against my wish. “I asked you to talk dirty.” He pulls my hair roughly with second ride. I keep quiet as I struggle to withhold my tears. “You will regret this.” He pulls out and he inserts in with more force. I immediately scream out in pain and pleasure when he pulls out again. “Shh, bellisma. Be quiet.” He rides me until I have no more air in me before he finally lets me go. “I’m sorry.” I say it again because I do not want this to ever happen again. “You will be very sorry when you wake up, sister in law.” But I don't hear what his says, drifting off to sleep without a single care. I feel at peace.And the Roots Remember Selena's POV The orchard's frost broke for the last time the morning after they buried the final crown. Selena stood barefoot at the trench lip, boots abandoned behind the brine pit where the last Thorell crest lay sinking into black mud. The hush was warm today , not the bitter hush that bit bone, but something that breathed through her veins like old blood. She could feel it in the soles of her feet, roots pulsing up through the churned soil to wrap around her toes, tugging at her skin like a mother smoothing back a child's hair. She tipped her head back and let the orchard wind cut its path down her throat, the taste of pitch smoke and thawed brine thick on her tongue. Overhead, the broken chapel tower sagged against the dawn. The frost that had rimed the stone beams since Calor's throat was split now dripped steady into the orchard trench, each drop a pulse in the hush. Behind her, Kieran's boots crunched through the last crust of snow, heavy but sure.
The Hush Devours the CrownKieran's POV Before the first crow broke the dawn hush, Kieran was already standing at the orchard trench. The wind pushed frost across the brine path in thin sheets, covering the blackened footprints they'd pressed into the soil when they dragged Thorell's last sons to the pit. It should've felt final. It didn't. His fingers rested on the old orchard fence , splintered rails tied together with scraps of old priest robes. Each knot was crusted in pitch. Each knot smelled like the night they buried Calor's crown so deep no lie could root itself in the hush again. He could taste it now, the hush , thick on his tongue when he opened his mouth to breathe. Somewhere beneath his boots, the orchard roots twitched in their brine cradle, drinking down what was left of every vow he'd ever carved into flesh. The hush was a hunger. He'd learned that the first time he split a throat wide enough to feed it. Selena's boots crunched through the snow behind him. She d
Where the Orchard Breathes LastSelena's POV The frost came back with teeth sharper than any blade she'd ever held. Selena felt it biting through her boots as she stood at the far edge of the orchard trench, the brine pit steaming like an open wound at her feet. The wind was so cold it turned the breath in her throat to knives, but she welcomed it , the orchard wanted her raw, bone-deep, skin peeled to the hush that breathed between the roots. Dawn was just a bruise at the horizon, a smear of pale violet behind the broken chapel spire. Wolves moved through the orchard in pairs, brine hoops lashed over their shoulders, oil casks dripping black lines that traced old scars in the snow. Cassius limped past her at the trench lip, spear butt crunching into the frost. "They're still crawling," he rasped, voice frayed. The hush swallowed the rattle in his chest. "Thorell's last bastards, huddled in the thorn brake like they think the orchard will forget them." Selena's mouth cracked int
Kieran's POV The orchard wind cut so deep it felt like it wanted to strip the marrow from Kieran's bones. He stood at the marsh path's last bend, brine muck sucking at his boots where the ice had cracked under the weight of the dragged bodies. Roots twisted up through the frost here, black veins that pulsed when the hush got thick enough to press on his ribs. Six banners flapped weakly against the tree line , splinters of old crests sewn into patchwork lies. What was left of Thorell's envoys lay in a heap behind the trench lip, their wax seals ground into the muck like bitter herbs. Wolves moved between the barrels and the split timbers, oil flasks rattling at their belts, pitch tarps slung across shoulders gone lean from weeks of brine air and roots that drank their warmth like blood. Kieran's fingers flexed against the hilt of his blade. He could feel the hush licking at the cut on his knuckles , the same gash that had split open when he cracked the last priest's jaw against t
The Thorn-Crowned PathSelena's POV The orchard wind tasted like old blood when it came down from the ridge at dawn. Selena felt it cut through the gaps in her cloak, slipping under the soot-stiff furs that clung to her shoulders like an oath she couldn't shake off. She stood on the narrow brine path that wound through the roots behind the marsh trench, boots sinking half an inch into the black mud that steamed in the first crack of sun. Somewhere far off, where the orchard's charred bones gave way to the low thorn woods, she could hear the hush breathing. A sound older than prayer, older than the crowns that tried to silence it. The orchard didn't forget. It waited. It devoured the kings who thought they could dig graves deep enough to hold what clawed its way back up every spring. Behind her, the keep's silhouette was a broken tooth against the sky, the battered ramparts just visible through the swirl of brine fog rising off the marsh. Wolves moved like shadows along the south w
The Marsh Where Kings Choke Kieran’s POV By the time the orchard frost melted enough to taste dirt again, the marsh was already whispering to the roots about the next crown that needed burying. Kieran stood waist-deep in the trench where the old brine pit had overflowed, boots sunk so far into the black muck that he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. All he could feel was the hush , that deep-bellied silence that made his pulse thud against his throat like a blade begging to bite. Overhead, the orchard’s bones creaked in the first thaw winds. The stumps, black and brittle from seasons of pitch fires and spilled blood, bent just enough to let the morning light slide across the marsh’s frozen reeds. It made the whole world look like a graveyard spun from glass. Behind him, wolves slogged through the sludge, dragging pitch barrels up from the chapel cellar where the last stores had been hidden beneath the altar’s cracked stone. Elric barked orders with a voice that rattled like brine-