“How can we do that without being discovered, if the marking is supposed to take place in front of witnesses?” I asked.
“We could say we decided to do it privately,” Kassian murmured. “It’s unconventional, but then, I’m the Silver Wolf.” He smiled faintly. Bitterly. “And everything about this match is unconventional.”
Ollan gestured at the closet. “I’ve taken the liberty of choosing a gown for the ceremony for you, my lady, from the shops. I apologize that we haven’t gotten your entire wardrobe finished yet. The tailor was able to make a veil, however.”
“We should do the temporary markings now,” Kassian said. “There won’t be much time later.”
Ollan went to see about proper dye materials in the house storeroom, and Kassian and I were alone together in the room.
The silence felt like a living, pulsating thing. We’d hardly spoken since the night of the match.
I stole a look at him as he faced the windows, back straight, gloved hands clasped behind his back. He wore his dark cloak and plain silk shirt and leather trousers. His dark hair coiled around his ears and at the bottom of his neck, and one stubborn curl hung over his forehead.
He looked every inch the werewolf prince that he was.
A shiver worked through me.
“Vixor,” I said, and then name was thorny and all wrong in my mouth. I should be calling him Kassian. I should be reminding him who he was.
Patience. Not yet. To call him Kassian now would spike his ire.
His cool gaze found mine.
“Meredith,” he responded. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“You look troubled,” I said.
“I have many things on my mind. Military strategies, decisions regarding political matters. Nothing that would interest you.”
“We used to discuss military strategies for hours as children,” I said. “Don’t you remember?”
His jaw twitched. “That was nothing but silly games. It is not the same.”
“You were as earnest as I was,” I said. “We were deadly serious. We wanted to be soldiers.”
Kassian’s lashes flicked downward, hiding whatever expression might have been in his eyes. “It is not as glorious as we imagined then. And you never wanted to be a soldier. You wanted to be my cousin, Penelope.”
“I wanted to be whatever and wherever you were,” I said.
He turned away as if my words paused him pain.
“Please talk to me,” I said. “If we don’t talk about this—”
“There is nothing I wish to discuss right now.” He flicked a glance at me; his expression was cold and remote.
Anything else I might have said was interrupted by Ollan’s return.
“I will have to order the materials,” Ollan reported.
“Then do it quickly,” Kassian ordered, and swept from the room before I could speak to him again.
~
Two lonely days later, Ollan found me walking the halls of the upper levels and beckoned for me to follow him. He brought me to Kassian’s study and rapped lightly on the door before opening it.
Kassian waited inside. He stood gazing out the window, one arm propped against the pane, his hair falling over his forehead. He was a perfect portrait of brooding displeasure.
“The dyes have arrived,” Ollan said. “I will go and get them.”
He left us alone, and the silence that filled the room was thick as summer heat.
Kassian did not turn.
“Have you memorized every inch of the halls of the upstairs yet?” he asked dryly.
Was that his way of telling me he was keeping a close watch on my movements?
“I’ve made friends with all the spiders and mice,” I responded.
He snorted softly.
Ollan returned, a wooden box in his hands.
“Here it is,” he said, setting the box on the bed. “The dyes for her skin. They will remain for a few weeks, and then, we shall have to redraw them.” He glanced at me. “My lady, if you could lie down on the bed.”
I took a deep breath. Once again, the sense of claustrophobia tightened inside me, and flashes of the day when I was forcibly held down and marked as Chosen played across my mind.
Kassian noticed. He was at my side in two steps.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I took another shuddering breath and resisted the urge to vomit.
Kassian touched my chin with one gloved finger. “Red. Look at me.”
I dragged my eyes up to his.
He must have seen the fear in mine, for his gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “The last time you were marked, it was a traumatic time, wasn’t it?”
How could he know me so well and yet adamantly maintain that he was no longer Kassian? How could he be so cold one moment, and so kind the next?
I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice not to quiver.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked away.
“I should have guessed. I am sorry.”
Ollan had the dyes and brushes ready. He looked between us, not speaking.
“Can you do this?” Kassian asked softly.
“I can,” I said. My voice came out hoarse. “I just truly, deeply don’t want to.”
He touched my wrist. “How can I make it easier for you?”
Gone was the cold, distance Kassian since our ceremony.
“Just… stay?” I whispered.
“Of course.”
I sat on the bed, pulled my right arm from my sleeve, and then laid down, head on the pillow, lying on top of the coverlet, my arms at my side. I closed my eyes. Kassian took my hand in his gloved one, hesitated, then peeled away the leather between us. The warmth of his bare skin met my palm as his hand engulfed mine, and bolts of electricity sparked up my arm and into my chest.
“Here, my lady,” Ollan said. “I’m going to start painting. It will be a bit cold.”
I felt a wet tickle of a brush dipped in dye along my shoulder. Then, the sensation slid down to my upper arm, damp as the tongue of a cow. A dab of dry cloth whisked away a drip, and then, the wet tickle again. I breathed out.
Ollan muttered something under his breath and made another stroke.
I shivered.
“Tell me,” Kassian asked, his voice low and calm beside my ear. “What was your favorite place to play as a child?”
His words were slow and hypnotic. I let them pull me back from the edge of panic.
“The forest,” I said. “Right beside the creek, because the treecrawlers could not cross the water. I felt safest there. There was a large rock in the shape of an elephant. At least, my father said it was shaped like an elephant. I’ve never seen one. It was covered in moss, and I liked to sit on it and make leaves float down the stream like boats caught in a current.
He didn’t know this story, because I didn’t discover that rock until the summer after he was gone. After I thought he’d died.
“I found this rock after I turned ten,” I added, and felt the way his hand stiffened a moment in mine as he understood.
I’d spent many summers after lying on that mossy rock, with the murmur of the stream all around me, and the sun on my face, and the whispering chatter of the forest overhead. Thinking of Kassian. Missing him. And later, thinking about other boys. Planning my life, daydreaming about the future, mourning the past.