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9: She has no idea
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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
Sold to the coldhearted beast 15: Gifts for breakfast
*Everly* I awake feeling as though a heavy thunderstorm has taken up residence in my skull. That I have slept at all is a miracle. I try not to think about the bargain I have struck. With the pale morning sunlight easing in through the window, I consider dressing, then quietly leaving, seeking sanctuary somewhere else. Surely some sort of shelter exists for she-wolves in my circumstance, but even as I have the thought, I know he wouldn’t let me easily go. He would find me. He would make me pay for staying in his residence through the night. I have no doubt about that. He is a man of his word. I am beginning to understand why the alpha’s avoided him as though he has the plague. If he dealt with them as he deals with me, he would have few friends. No one likes a bully. Rolling over, I come up short at the sight of a young maid standing there. The girl curtsies. “Good morning, miss. I’m Lila. I’ve brought your clothes, freshly pressed. The master is hoping you will join him for brea
Sold to the coldhearted beast 16: His sister in-law
*Tristan* The table is too blasted long, but even with the great distance separating us, I could see the joy light her eyes when her gaze fell on the jewelry. I can only imagine how bright they had been when she had first been given them. She would have not expected them. She seems not to expect anything. Mistresses are supposed to be demanding, by the Goddess. She should be demanding things from me. She shouldn’t make me urge her to accept things; she shouldn’t make me want to stop off at a jeweler’s to find a set of stones that more accurately resembles her eye color. The sapphires are close, but a shade too blue, a little lacking in violet. Amethyst perhaps. No, that would not have enough blue. Pity I do not have the power to create stones. I shake off the thought. What is this mooning about ? My carriage comes to a halt in front of Rafe House, my oldest brother’s pack house. After getting out, I march up the steps. I have not been here in some time. Still, I know my brother
Sold to the coldhearted beast 17: What’s in his room
*Everly* I wander through the corridors and rooms. Tristan could not possibly have meant that he intends to give me this residence. He must have meant that he would purchase a smaller one, maybe even a cottage somewhere. This place has been built to accommodate a large family … a pack, someone who entertains often. There are salons with crystal chandeliers, and I imagine the light from the candles flickering over dancers. The library contains numerous sitting areas and walls of books. Chairs and draperies are dark burgundy or hunter green. Everything is exquisite. No, he could not possibly intend to give me this place. What truly fascinates me is that every room contains a globe, or a picture of one. I stroll to the window of a small sitting room and gaze out on the luxurious gardens. I can well imagine the lady of the house doing the same thing, finding herself filled with peace and comfort. Closing my eyes, I fight not to open the nearby doors, step out, and keep walking throug
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