Chapter 9 : Breeding with the Enemy

*Gemma* Connor left me with the feeling that he'd dunked a bucket of cold water over my head. Aeryn? I closed and locked the door, resting the back of my head on it. I'd never prayed to the Moon Goddess as much as I did in the past few hours, but damn, did I need her luck. *** I stood on the shore, white sand between my toes, eyes closed to the midnight breeze, breathing in the brine. The lapping of the sea lulled my restless heart. The ocean was where I belonged. A lonely, bored she-wolf who longed for the freedom of the rest of the world. I sensed a presence behind me. I whirled around. Above him was the silky blue sky dotted with dim stars. The moon was huge and full, blindingly bright. It limned his leanly muscular frame in a halo of white as he padded toward me. But I wasn't afraid of the stranger. I waited for him, waiting to see his face as he came closer. He stopped a foot away; he was a foot taller, too, so I tipped my chin up while he tipped his down. I matched his fond smile. "Hi," I breathed. It was the male from the square in Niburgh, the one with white hair and gray eyes. He was so handsome up close–strong nose, strong jaw with a shadow of stubble, a kind mouth that spread into a wider smile. "Hello," he said. "This is a far cry from that sad city, isn't it?" I asked conversationally, gesturing to the endless beach and sea. He laughed. "That's for sure. It's beautiful here. I've always wondered what the ocean looked like." My smile faded. "You've never seen the ocean?" "No," said the handsome stranger with a somber shake of his head. I almost couldn't comprehend that. "We can't have that!" Without thinking, I took his hand and tugged. "Come on, the water's beautiful!" "Alright," he laughed, setting into a jog to follow me into the shallows up to our ankles. "Oh! It's cold!" I laughed too, very aware of the fact that I was still holding his hand. "You get used to it. Feel the sand between your toes? It tickles, doesn't it?" "It does! It's slimy and dry at the same time. How does that work?" I shrugged one shoulder. My smile was so wide, my cheeks ached. "Who are you?" He didn't seem to mind holding my hand. He splashed around in the water a little, reminding me of a curious pup. "I was wondering the same thing about you." "I'm Gemma." "Gemma," he repeated warmly, the reflective glow of the waves making patterns dance on his face. He was beautiful, and suddenly my chest constricted, because… what if I never saw him again? "My name is—" I jerked awake with a dragging gasp, sitting upright, sweat beading my forehead, my heart pounding. The moonlit beach was just a dream. I was still in my prison cell room. I fell back on the pillow as my vitals settled back to normal. Why had such a peaceful dream wakened me as if it was a nightmare? "You're awake finally." I jumped again at the voice of the maid from yesterday. She was standing a few feet away, which was rather disconcerting. "Were you watching me sleep?" "No. I was about to shake you awake. I am glad, for my own sake, that I did not have to. Now, get up and get ready for the day. Hurry, or there will be consequences." I did not want to face any consequences, not from this scary, tiny female or Connor, who I prayed had come down from his drunken state. So I climbed quickly out of bed and took the clothes the maid already had in her grasp to shed the skimpy silk slip that I'd slept in behind the separation screen. "You missed breakfast, so you will have to wait for lunch, which is in ten minutes," the maid said. "Alpha Connor instructed me to tell you to forget his words and never speak of your encounter to anyone. Miss Raisa asked me to bring you down to the garden after lunch, which she will not be joining. She will instruct you on what your days will look like from now on. If you need anything, simply ring one of the bells, and an attendant will come to assist you." I addressed each of her sentences mentally: it was hard to forget an encounter like that. I hoped Raisa was okay; who knew what happened between her and Connor after he ordered me out of her room? And I wasn't aware of any bells, but I supposed I would see them eventually. I dressed in a surprisingly modest outfit of black pants and a dark red shirt, even if it bared much of my breasts. The maid ordered me to sit on the vanity stool. I looked quite terrible. I thought I'd struggle to fall asleep with all the unfamiliarity, but I'd passed out almost immediately out of exhaustion. "You slept for eleven hours," the maid remarked, her voice steadfastly flat and emotionless as she made my hair into a single long braid and not a gull's nest. "I guess I needed to recover a little," I laughed under my breath. She didn't find that amusing. "What's your name?" I asked her reflection. "Sharen," she said tersely. "That's pretty—" "I do not like small talk." "Sorry." With a final rough tug, Sharen tied a red ribbon at the end of the braid. "Follow me." She turned on her heel and set a brisk pace. I hurried to keep up as she led me back down the spiral staircase onto the floor below where the hallway only had two doors, one on either side directly across from each other. One was just a regular-sized dark wood, but the other was a double set of black wood with the Hazel Coast sigil carved into it. Sharen opened them as if they didn't look like they weighed a hundred pounds. What was behind them took my breath away just like every other room I'd been shown so far. Just how much wealth and labor did Connor abuse to build this much luxury? It looked like the dining hall at The School with a stupidly long table with a dozen chairs on either side and ends, large dishes lined in the center, all below three black chandeliers. The floor was black marble with red veins, so polished that I could see my reflection. Around the perimeter of the hall were three Epsilon guards, each wearing their uniforms and intimidating masks. They gave off a presence that dimmed the lively mood coming from the six chattering and laughing girls at the table. And just like last night, when they saw me, they went silent and cold. "Sit here," Sharen ordered, pointing at the seat at the head of the table. I sank into the seat, its back a full foot taller that me, feeling like a crab surrounded by hungry gulls with all the girls glaring at me. I looked down at my empty plate. But then, I gritted my teeth and looked back up, straightening my shoulders. I wouldn't be intimidated. I just had to keep reminding myself of Raisa's advice before I was eaten alive. They seemed unimpressed with my shift into determination but did go back to their conversations. I sighed inwardly and turned my attention to the bountiful selection of food. Large plates were laden with several kinds of meats, a stack of a fruit I'd never seen before, black metal jugs of whatever drink, all set amongst desert flowers, artfully placed ribbons, and tiny black glass figurines of wolves. In the midst of a war, Alpha Connor Herrick still had someone to make glasswork. On the other end of the hall was yet another set of double doors. One cracked open and a male stuck his head in to announce, "Alpha will not be joining today's meal. You may eat." The girls squealed and started loading their plates. As they stood to reach for things, I got a better look at all of them. They all wore skimpy black silk that fit their hourglass figures and their hair was long and softly curled. Two of them, however, were obviously pregnant. They didn't look much older than me. "Eat," Sharen barked at me suddenly. I jerked into motion, grabbing the closest meat and fruit with large tongs. The jug an arm's reach away was water; I poured it into a goblet and chugged the entire thing, ignoring more stares when I set it down. If they were going to stare unabashedly, then I was going to be equally shameless. Without using utensils, I tore the meat apart with my teeth, sinking them into pieces of fruit, downing it all fervently to make up for the lack of food the past few days. I didn't know what animal the meat used to be or what the fruits were, but they were equally delicious and rich in flavor. Juice from both dribbled down my chin. But I couldn't give a damn. If I was going to be given a feast, then I was going to enjoy it. "I thought Easterners were supposed to be… cultured," I heard one of the young females murmur. The one beside her huffed a judgmental laugh. "She probably thinks we are the savages." I swallowed the last bite of fruit. I met the gaze of the second girl, not breaking eye contact, and licked the juice from my fingers. Her jaw clenched, and she went back to her plate. "Alpha Connor treats you well. You're all very beautiful. Are you all from the West?" I made my voice as conversational as possible. Raisa couldn't be my only friend. If I was going to live here amongst all the other consorts, there was no use ducking my head or pretending I was better—because that's what they were thinking, weren't they? I was an outsider from an at-peace continent. They must think I'm of higher value to Connor than them if he plucked me from there. No one seemed to want to answer me, but the girl who was the first to judge said, "Yes. We were all…" Her gaze flicked to the Epsilon guards ahead of her and then continued, "Gifted… by our Alphas." Gifted? Or stolen? Picking up on the careful choice of words, I was equally careful to ask, "Are you all daughters of Alphas?" Their attitudes subtly shifted from mild dislike to solemn. They all gave imperceptible nods. The first girl quickly covered it up by saying, "We're better off in the safety of our Alpha lord's fortress. It's impenetrable, so the war can't touch us." She smiled; it was only half forced. "As his breeders, we're happy to exchange our bodies for protection from Syrus's forces." One of the pregnant girls rested a hand on her belly. "He gives a safe future for our pups." "Are you ready to give him offspring?" the judgmental girl asked with a challenge. "I hope you're not as fragile as you look." Did I look fragile? I used a cloth napkin to clean my mess civilly. Before I could open my mouth to respond, the male who had come in earlier appeared again to announce, "Miss Raisa's asking for Gemma Brooks in the garden." *** The garden was a large square of flourishing desert plants and flowers on the north side of the fortress and overlooked the bluff. In its center was a black velvet chaise upon which sat Raisa. As Sharen walked me over, an older male rose from crouching in front of her, patted her shoulder, and nodded to me as he passed by. Something felt off. I hurried to Raisa and sat next to her. I was tempted to take her hands in mine, the way I used to with Cari when she was upset. Because Raisa was upset; when I met her eyes, they glimmered with tears. Sharen had already gone. "Raisa," I demanded quietly, "what's wrong? What happened?" I knew she didn't trust me, yet she didn't skirt the truth when she whispered, "I'm pregnant."