The Offering

She’d expected to find him here; the anticipation had kept her from panicking. Still, her body responded instinctively, a flutter stirring in her chest and an ache gathering low in her belly. Her skin prickled with the memory of his touch, the way his warm finger had pressed to her lips, his large hand cradling her face with a possessive tenderness.

As if he sensed her thoughts, his lips curled into a devious smirk, and Caelia ducked back, a flush heating her cheeks. Hidden beneath the hood, she had wondered if he could truly see her, though she was now certain he could.

From this new angle, she glimpsed the man who had met them at the door. But he wasn’t approaching the stranger as she’d assumed; instead, he was speaking with an older woman seated across the room. The woman’s stern expression turned expectant as she gestured toward the door.

“Things can be arranged any time,” the woman said curtly, her gaze sharp as a blade. The room fell silent as she added, “The opportunity is rare; bring her in. Let’s hope they’ve finally found something valuable.”

Caelia’s escorts stiffened, casting uneasy glances her way, and it dawned on her that the situation might be more significant than they or the stranger had let on. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to settle her nerves, painfully aware of the intense gaze waiting just beyond the curtain. Her heart pounded, and she swallowed, struggling to compose herself as the man returned, barking, “You, come.”

The shorter of her escorts stepped forward into the room, his steps echoing against the stone floor as he moved straight toward the man whose molten gaze seemed to sear through the curtain. The background chatter softened, tension thickening in the air, and she felt the anxiety radiate from the taller man who stayed at her side. Her breath quivered as she fought to stay calm, nervously chewing on her lower lip.

Did she want him to accept her? Based on what she had overheard, she knew it wasn’t possible, but the question gnawed at her. She could hardly imagine herself as a match for such a beautiful man. Her life had been confined to the shadows, born in the maids’ quarters on her father’s estate, and by the time she could speak, she’d been put to work there too. Over the years, the other girls had occasionally complimented her silvery hair, her vivid green eyes, or her blossoming figure, though her beauty had always felt more like a liability. When the other maids had failed to appear unappealing, they caught the attention of male residents or guests and were often forced into degrading acts.

Thankfully, Caelia had always been kept away from the guests, lest they notice the master’s unmistakable eyes on someone of her low station, and his sons had long ago deduced her true origin.

She’d been ripped from the servants’ quarters just days before her engagement and subjected to hurried lessons in wifely duties. The woman hired to teach her had told her that her husband would enjoy her appearance and gave her only one instruction—submit in silence. She’d wondered if she should cast off her cloak here, revealing herself in the hopes that this man had the same preferences as Dunsmore, but she hesitated. Maybe rejection was her best hope, a swift denial and a journey to some distant town where she could forge a new life and perhaps someday free her mother from her own servitude.

"Draken," the shorter man’s voice traveled from the room, his tone carrying a rare reverence. Caelia peeked in, catching a glimpse of his head bowed low.

Even his name sounds powerful, she thought, a tremor of excitement mixed with trepidation as she tried to see his face more clearly.

"We offer you a gem" the man continued, his voice edged with nervous anticipation. "We hope she is what you've been searching for." He kept his head bowed, casting a hopeful glance toward the doorway, as if silently pleading for things to go smoothly.

At a subtle nudge from the man beside her, Caelia took a shaky step forward. The shorter man, noticing her entrance, stepped aside, relief evident in his expression. Despite their impatience on the journey, they had shown her a surprising measure of respect, far gentler than the treatment she’d braced for. She hoped, perhaps selfishly, that they’d be the ones to take her back again, calm and relieved when this ordeal was over.

Pulling her hood down further, Caelia tried to shield herself from the eyes of the room as she passed through the light fabric into the dim, richly scented space. She kept her gaze fixed on her feet, on the worn white slippers she’d been given for her almost-wedding. Each step felt heavier than the last as she inched forward, finally stopping when a large plush mat came into view, and then, a pair of feet—clearly belonging to a towering man, sprawled leisurely on the lush cushions.

She swallowed hard, her heart the only sound, as she dared to look up slightly, taking in his long, powerful legs stretched out from the pile of cushions he leaned against. The room fell into silence, her limbs trembling as she willed her body to stay upright.