Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Ashlyn’s POV

“No one.”

The answer to my question shuddered through me as my hand gripped the staircase rail for support and my fingers curled into the hard wood.

Absolutely no one.

Here, I was utterly and truly alone.

The temperature in the hall began to drop. Cool air biting my skin with the force of Hunt’s fury. And the tempest raging in his eyes— my stomach dipped in fear.

But before Hunt could reach the base of the staircase, another figure broke from the crowd.

Lucinda.

Her brown eyes burned with murder as her grey dress cut through the sea of black, straight for me.

Goddess save me.

My stomach dipped again and I had only a second to breathe before she was at the staircase. Shoving past the shocked announcer and marching up without hesitation.

Then she was in front of me.

“Have you lost it?!” Lucinda hissed, her jaw trembling with rage as her hand clamped around my wrist.

“Lucinda, I—“ I started to pull my hand back but she held steadfast, and scoffed shaking her head.

“I don’t know why I’m asking.” She muttered furiously. “You’ve clearly lost your mind. You—“

Then she froze and her gaze sharpened with venom. “Did you plan this? Did your father make you do this?!”

“Lucinda, stop—“ I tried to hiss as her nails dug into my skin. Bruising and sending pain up my arm.

But her eyes had gone wild with the belief of her words.

“You witch!”

Then made to start dragging me down the stairs. “You’re coming down with me. You’re—“

“Stop it!!” I snapped, breathing through the pain and lowering my voice as much as I could with the whole court staring at us. “I didn’t know! I didn’t even know what tonight was. The dowager chose this dress, she—“

“Lady Grace?” Lucinda’s eyes widened in disbelief then narrowed.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

Below us, my words set the court on fire.

“She’s blaming the dowager now?!” Hot whispers began to spread.

“What an evil girl!”

“So convenient.”

“Liar! What an insult!”

My chest tightened and my breath began to shake.

But none of this mattered. None of them.

“Let go.” I growled darkly, pulling my hand from Lucinda’s wrist and looking to the bottom of the stairs where Hunt was standing.

He was one the one who mattered. He—

“Really, child.” The dowager’s tinkling voice cut through the air as she slid from her place in the crowd. “To accuse me while I’m in mourning?”

My gaze cut to her. Horror and disgust burning through me.

But she wasn’t done with theatrics. Not by any means.

In front of the whole court, her shoulders began to shake, and her voice broke with a sob.

“I’m just trying to- to remember my dear husband in peace. T-the memorial was supposed to— oh dear.” She burst into full fledged sobs.

Shaky fingers dabbing at her cheeks with a flowery handkerchief.

“How could you?” She paused, lifting her eyes to me.

Her voice was so filled with hurt that for a moment, my pulse stopped.

Her acting was very convincing.

“Wearing this—“

“That’s enough.” I bit out, cold laughter clawing from my throat.

No wonder the Ashlyn in this world ran away.

“What is this?” My voice rang through the hall. Not caring what they all thought of me anymore as I faced the dowager head on. “You gave me this dress. I resisted but you insisted that I wear it. Who in their right mind would willingly wear red to a memorial?!”

If possible, Hunt’s mother dissolved into even more sobs. “Y-you.” She raised a shaky finger towards me. “H-how could you—“ she hiccuped, unable to speak through her tears.

Sharp whispers and hisses went through the crowd.

Quickly, some court ladies moved to the dowager. Holding her hand, rubbing her back, lending her support.

It was ridiculous to watch.

And Hunt—

I turned my gaze back to my mate.

My stomach swooping in fear. But he just had to believe me.

“Please.” My voice sounded thin to my own ears. As on my own, I moved down the stairs until I was before him.

“Hunt, I didn’t know. I swear it.”

But before he said the next words, I knew in my heart that I was doomed.