Chapter eight

Viola's room was at the end of the second-floor hallway. A young blonde handmaiden opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

Viola walked in, her eyes lifting with surprise. She didn't know where to look. The bedroom was huge. There were vases of fresh flowers, a bookcase full of books, a reading nook, a floor lamp, a sofa, and a desk. It was a dream bedroom of a librarian and book lover.

But what took her breath away was the back corner. There was a wooden easel, blank canvases leaning against the wall, boxes of new oil paints, and brushes arranged by size. Right next to it, on a low table, rested a camera and a stack of empty photo albums.

She approached slowly, ran her fingers along the edge of the canvas. Then she looked at the colors, the ones she had always wanted.

She didn't understand how they got there.

She thought it was a coincidence. That someone had tastefully decorated that corner without knowing that a woman who had wanted exactly that for years would arrive.

It had to be a coincidence.

"I will be outside if you need anything, Luna. Just scream Lizzy and I will come running," the youngest maid said gently before closing the door, leaving her alone.

A couple of hours later, some soft knocks startled her. She had already changed her clothes, using the first thing she found in the walk-in closet.

She walked to the door slowly and opened it halfway.

"Oh, come in!" she said, recognizing who it was.

The elderly woman entered, pushing open the door with her hip. She was carrying a golden tray with a porcelain teapot, a cup, and a saucer of biscuits.

"The king asked me to bring you this," she said, placing the tray on the small table.

Viola looked at her, puzzled.

"Do you have two kings here?"

"There are no two kings in Nightmore. Lucian is our only king," the woman said, wiping her hands on her apron.

"He also asked me to deliver a message to you," she added. "He said the wedding night wouldn't wait."

The room fell into a deathly silence. Viola felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks, turning them bright red. She lowered her head, gritting her teeth, waiting for the trick.

"Don't be afraid. It's what you must do."

"I'm not ready. I just need time to process all of this. I..." Viola's eyes filled with tears, though she forced herself to blink to keep them from falling. It was because she didn't believe a man like Lucian would ever be considerate of her.

Another soft tap on the door and old Madam Katty opened it.

Three handmaidens walked in with all the essentials needed for her bath. They ran the water in the tub until it was steaming

"My Queen..." Lizzy gestured, but Viola shook her head.

"I can handle myself. I'm not a child that requires to be bathed."

"It's tradition, your highness. The handmaidens are here to serve you. You don't need to lift a finger as long as you are here. Your main duty is to breed children for the Lycan king—as many as possible," Katty said.

Viola scoffed so loudly that she almost snorted. Her gaze filled with fury. Here she was puzzled by his sudden switch in attitude. Now she realized that all the act was only to make sure she performed well enough to hold his baby.

The three handmaidens bathed her anyway, their faces flushed from the plumes of steam as they gently scrubbed her body. Viola sighed relentlessly as they ushered her this way and that.

Her mind retreated into dark corners. What manner of things would she be subjected to this evening? She would be handed over like a wrapped gift to the devil himself.

But she would refuse him. If he was decent enough, he wouldn't force himself on a woman.

The usually dull, milk-pale skin of her thighs was red and scalded from the near-boiling temperature of the water, but she didn't utter any complaints. The pain was a welcome distraction from her aching heart, but only a very temporary liberation.

"You shouldn't fear it," one of the handmaidens said, interrupting her from her spiraling thoughts. "Use it to your advantage." Viola lifted her head in Lizzy's direction.

"It's no doubt his highness is a monster, especially during the full moon night. He devours, so I heard. But this is a woman's power. This is how we survive."

Lizzy's posture grew rigid as she trailed a hand over Viola's hip to further demonstrate her point.

They finally tugged her out of the tub, dried her, brushed the tangles out of her long, white hair, and fastened it into an intricate braid. They dressed her in a thin, silver, hand-embroidered gown specially prepared by the pack elders and infused with traditional oils meant for the mating ceremony.

As the moon became full, Viola approached the east wing of the castle. A pen knife hanging at the tight end of her underwear. Her hand shook as she wondered what she would even be able to do against a Lycan.

Yet she was convinced that anything was better than nothing

She touched the bristles of the artwork on the walls with her fingertips.

Suddenly, she heard a loud growling sound. It sounded distressful, like someone was in pain.

She tried so hard to ignore it but she couldn't.

She followed the voice, which stopped all of a sudden and continued almost immediately, this time louder.

The painful voice led her to underground stairs. She walked slowly towards them, her hands holding her waist where her weapon rested.

There was an oak door to a room she suspected the voice was coming from. She peeked through it, and a sight she couldn't believe startled her.

A man was wrapped in chains, his hands and legs chained to the wall. Half of his face was covered with grey scales, and she watched as the grey scales spread down to his torso. Soon half his body was covered with them.

She gasped as the man cried out in pain, but before she could enter the room, a firm hand touched her shoulder.

Startled, Viola jumped to her feet and looked behind her. Rosie was standing in her suit, her hands cradled to the front.

"You are forbidden to go to the fortress dungeon, Viola. I will lead you back to your chamber."