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6: The man stuck in her thoughts
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Sold to the coldhearted beast 7: Going to his home
*Everly* Late the following afternoon, freed from my lovely prison, I can’t recall a single time where I have ridden in a carriage with Orley. It is odd to have him sitting across from me, staring out the window at the darkening skies. It will no doubt be raining by nightfall. The air feels heavy and damp, as though it is simply waiting to unburden itself. I don’t even know where we are going, although I recognize the area as we have not yet traveled far from our home. When he had come to my room and commanded me to get ready for a carriage ride, I had almost told him to go to the devil. He had left me to worry all night, wondering if any of the alphas had hinted about an interest in me. But I had been too desperate to leave the house to risk upsetting him by revealing that I am angry with him for his behavior and lack of regard for my feelings. So I had simply donned a black walking dress, matching pelisse, and hat. I hate appearing so docile as it gives the impression that I a
Sold to the coldhearted beast 8: A brother’s visit
*Raphael*I am standing in the open doorway that leads into my brother’s office at the gambling hell. I can’t recall ever seeing the door closed. At his desk, my brother is bent diligently over his ledgers, his dark head bent in concentration, just as he had been the first time that I had seen him after twelve long years of separation. Tristan’s giant of a man had been waiting at the abbey ruins and he had brought me here, to this very doorway. My grip tightens on the large package I am holding, I shift my gaze to the shelves on the far wall where Tristan keeps his assemblage of assorted globes. He had once told me that he collects them because they give him hope of there being a place better than where he is. I am saddened to see that my brother has acquired a new one. After Tristan had helped me right a wrong I had stupidly done to Anne before she became my wife … when I had no expectation of her ever becoming my wife … I had thought we might be on our way to closing this rift betw
Sold to the coldhearted beast 9: She has no idea
*Tristan* I had never expected to be glad to have a visit from my brother, but for a few moments I had been spared thoughts of miss Everly. She has been haunting me all day, and I know that as of twenty-two minutes ago … if Littlefoot is punctual at all … she has arrived at my residence. Laurence will show her to her bedchamber, introduce her to the maid … Lila … who will see to dressing her, fixing her hair, and whatever else ladies’ maids do. Servants will assist in unpacking her things. They would see that she is settled and comfortable as she waits for my arrival. Spinning the globe, I suddenly wish I was somewhere else … someone else. If my brothers ever learn the truth about the sort of man I truly am, they would want little to do with me. I shove back the rancid thoughts. Mick, my main man, steps through the doorway. His slender physique hides a well-toned body that often gives me a good going over when we are sparring in the boxing room hidden away downstairs. “I though
Sold to the coldhearted beast 10: Realising the betrayal
*Everly* I run. And run. And run. My wolf's legs are churning, my chest aching as I fight for breath, the tears blurring my vision. The rain pelts me, seeping through my fur. It is lies. It is all lies. Orley wouldn’t be so cruel. In spite of the fact that he had never given me reason to think that he likes me overly much, he is innocent in this debacle. He had not known what that horrid Tristan Rafe had assumed, had planned. When I explain to Orley what the man had said, what he expects of me, Orley will call him out. He will surely insist upon pistols at dawn. In honor of his father, he will protect my reputation. He will not allow me to be completely ruined. Although he had never given me cause to believe that he would champion me, he is enough of a gentleman that he will not stand by while some bastard takes advantage of me. All I have to do is to get home. Thank God it isn’t that far. I remember the way. One street, and then another and another, and I will be there. The few
Sold to the coldhearted beast 11: Figthing his own demons
*Tristan* Hell and damnation! As soon as I am in my bedchamber with the door slammed behind me, I begin tearing at my wet clothes before they suffocate me. Buttons go flying, brocade and linen are ripped. I am fighting to draw in breath, I have been ever since I had made the awful decision to carry the woman back to my residence. I knew it was a mistake the moment she wound her arms about my neck and clung painstakingly to me. I couldn’t very well drop her at that point, no matter how desperately I had wanted to be rid of her cloying hold. So I had urged myself on with a mantra: One more step, one more step. Almost there. Knowing all the while that I am lying to myself, that I had a good distance to travel. Why the devil hadn’t I taken the time to have my carriage brought round ? I was almost certain where she was going. Instead, like a blundering idiot, I rushed out into the rain, changed into my Wolf and charged after her to ensure that she reached her destination without being
Sold to the coldhearted beast 12: The truth of things
*Everly* The room is warm, the fire crackling, and yet sitting in front of the fireplace, I feel as though I am carved from ice. My own clothes are a wet mess, so I am wearing one of the maids’ nightdresses and dressing gowns. I had soaked in a tub of hot water for what had seemed like hours. My hair is braided. I curl one bare foot over the other. I should strive to determine what I am to do about this unfortunate circumstance, but I seem incapable of managing little more than staring at the yellow and orange flames. Orley’s strange behavior in the carriage, his cryptic words … I was quite amazed that he had been able to meet and hold my gaze at least once. If I sought to destroy the very fabric of his being, I would not be able to face him. A mistress, not a wife. That is what I am to become, what he expects for my future, what he sought to give me. Not love, not a family, not a place in Society. It is not to be tolerated. What are my options? Literally, all I possess is the clo
Sold to the coldhearted beast 13: Her decission
*Everly* My stomach lurches at the truth of his words. my father had protected me from the gossip and rumors, and in doing so, he had given me false expectations. I thought I would marry a ranked wolf, an Alpha or beta, and now I am discovering I am not worthy of the lowest omega. Studying this man, I see no kindness in his features, no compassion, no sympathy. Yet he had come after me, carrying me through the rain. Because he thought he owned me, or is it because as he had said, he knows what it is to be where I am? But how could that be when he is the third son of a very high ranking Alpha? “I’ll have your answer now,” He says. “You won’t even allow me the kindness of sleeping on it?” I ask. He shrugs. “I told you last night that I am not kind.” But I can see that he is strong, implacable, confident. If I could learn from him to be the same, perhaps no one would ever be able to take advantage of me again. It makes my stomach churn uncomfortably to realize that all the men las
Sold to the coldhearted beast 14: Confronting her brother
*Tristan* Kissing her had been a colossal error in judgment. Her lips are like silk. Her mouth, smoky with my Scotch, had tasted particularly inviting. Her sighs are as low and throaty as her voice. The sounds had sent desire shooting through me. As a general rule I do not misjudge my actions, but from the moment she had walked into my life, I have been having a time of it when it comes to rational decisions. I had claimed her for my mistress. I had trotted after her into the rain like a misbegotten fool. I had carried her home, knowing the torment that would entail. I had promised to give her time instead of sinking into her molten heat tonight as I so desperately wanted. I had kissed her. And now I am heading to Littlefoot’s. At least this time I had the good sense to have the carriage brought round, it just looks better to arrive in style, than drenched. I tug on my waistcoat. I hate that I have to display myself fully dressed in order to be taken seriously. Clothing alwa
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