Chapter 278. Sweet Julie I

Chapter 278: 278. Sweet Julie I

Quinlan

It wasn’t totally unheard of in the royal houses to be handed a bedslave as a peace offering. It was a messed up, outdated tradition, sure, but not uncommon.

But Tessa doing it? That was a calculated, sick joke.

She had literally sent a girl with the exact same height, the exact same build, and the exact same terrified blue eyes as Maisie. But this girl’s skin was flawless. Unblemished. It was Tessa rubbing her victory right in my face, parading a shiny, unbroken toy while my actual mate who had barely escaped death, still fought for her life even now when she was safe.

Traumatized. Brutalized. She couldn’t even go one night without screaming in her sleep.

The fever had begun right after her burn out, but even that and the herbs she was given to aid her recovery wasn’t enough to give her one night of peace.

This wasn’t just a sick joke. It was salt to her still healing wounds and the vitriol in my gut expanded.

The plastic of the phone groaned, a sharp crack echoing in the quiet room as my knuckles went stark white. "When I find you, Tessa," I snarled, "I am going to peel the skin off your face while you scream."

A soft, breathy laugh echoed through the speaker. "Gods, Quinn. You’re always so dramatic. I thought you’d appreciate the thought. I mean, your little stray is looking terribly mangled these days. I figured you needed something soft to keep your bed warm until her execution."

"And when I’m done flaying your skin," I continued, "I’ll let you heal, just so I can do it all again."

Tessa sighed. "You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? How much we enjoyed playing these games of tag when we were younger. Someone always did get hurt in the end."

Every muscle in my body locked up, shaking with the sheer effort of keeping my Lycan from tearing the room apart at the sound of the threat.

Maisie was safe at the mansion, I assured him. The guard detail had been increased through every corner. Jericho hadn’t left her side once since she passed out four days ago, and Soren hadn’t left home either. She was safe. No one would ever come close enough to hurt her again.

"You can’t touch Maisie," I hissed, fangs lengthening. "You so much as breathe near her, and you’re fucking dead."

"Breathe near her? Why would I go near a corpse?" Tessa laughed, the sound dripping with pity. "Let’s be real, Quinn. We both know how this plays out. Without Koen to finish the bonding, your mark on her means nothing, as does hers on you. You are mine. You all are. And when this trial is over, that bitch executed for her crimes, the hold she has on you will be broken, her brainwashing undone, and things are going to go right back to normal.

"We’re engaged," she added with a bored yawn. "I’m just giving you space to get this little tantrum out of your system before you come home and claim me."

A disgusted, rattling snarl escaped me. "I wouldn’t mark you if you were the last female breathing. I wouldn’t touch you if you were bleeding to death in front of me."

"You will," she stated, her arrogance so absolute it made me sick. "But until then... I suppose I could do you this one favour. For the sake of our blooming relationship, of course."

A pause. "Her Majesty is losing her patience. She knows you’re up to something. And she believes your little rebellion phase needs a reality check. And since your whore is so heavily guarded..."

The boiling rage in my veins instantly turned to ice.

"The Queen wants to send a message through someone a lot softer," Tessa continued, and I heard the smile in her tone. "Someone way easier to break. Someone so perfectly, stupidly unguarded."

Juliette.

My heart flatlined.

"If you touch one fucking hair on my sister’s head--"

"Tick-tock, Quinn," Tessa cooed. "If you leave right now, you might actually make it in time. So, you can come hunt me down and finally get that revenge you’re frothing at the mouth for... or you can try to scrape your little sister off the pavement before the Queen’s men finish playing with her. The ball is in your court, fiancé."

The line went dead.

***

Juliette

His hard, wet body glistened in the moonlight as he emerged from the dark. Brilliant eyes of stormy green met hers, and her heart raced.

He stood naked, as always, before her. She had never asked what he was, but she knew no one should make her feel this way.

Breathless.

He walked over, the slits in his eyes pulsing with every step he took toward her. His eyes, devilish as they were, promised everything, promised an eternity of pleasure.

The wind caressed her skin, making her shiver. Her skin was far too hot for an evening as cold as this one, and she was burning up, even without a fever.

When he cupped a strong hand at the nape of her neck and drew her close enough for her to catch the scent of spice and burned amber clinging to him, she knew the exact words that would tumble from his lips.

It felt as though she had been hearing them since the day she was born.

"My sweet Julie," he whispered.

Her lips parted on a sigh of dreamy anticipation. She had been kissed once before, by a girl. She had always been a curious creature. Her mother had told her so on several occasions, and as he brought her closer, his tail wrapping around her left calf, she wondered if this would be better.

Somehow, she knew the answer before his lips even touched hers. She would never be the same again. She would be ruined for anyone else.

His first kiss was gentle. He tasted like himself. Something wild, something forbidden, something she couldn’t name. Her skin prickled with awareness, the silent thing in her chest stirring, purring with recognition.

Yes, it mewled with pleasure and excitement, like a housecat when its master had finally returned.

One hand became two, burying themselves in her hair. One kiss became a second, fiercer, hungrier, sharp canines nipping her bottom lip before licking the wound, sucking hard until she was burning with passion and desire.

He pulled away, his thumb hovering over the curve of her bottom lip.

"Won’t you tell me your name?" she whispered breathily, struck by the vague impression that she had asked this man this exact question many times before, and had always received the same answer.

His thumb pushed past her lips, and without thinking, she wrapped her mouth around his skin and sucked.

The slits in his green eyes expanded. "You know exactly who I am, sweet girl."

***

The sound of glass crashing jerked her awake, and she sat upright, panting.

She was covered in sweat. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t woken up this way. Gasping, wet, consumed by a shame she would carry to her grave. It was a secret she could never tell a soul, lest they looked at her like she was sick in the head.

She blinked back the fog of lust, suddenly becoming aware of the thick darkness permeating the bedroom.

She froze, cold sweat breaking across her skin. She never slept with the lights off. They must have gone out at some point in the night. The power had been unstable ever since the school had gone under repairs.

Still, she was more likely to eat dirt than go back to living with her brother, who was controlling enough to have her outfits vetted every single day before she could step outside. That was to say nothing of the fact that he kept her cellphones bugged. It didn’t matter how many times she replaced them. Every time she had a prospective love interest, he somehow found out and paid them a "friendly" visit.

It would have been fine if they simply stopped talking to her afterward. Instead, they ran from her like she was diseased.

’Controlling’ didn’t even cover it. He was insane. She really needed to get her own place.

A sharp hiss drew her attention toward the open windows of the small room.

Open? She distinctly remembered shutting them.

Philip stood in the center of the bedroom, hissing at something hidden in the dark corner. Pieces of broken glass littered the floor.

The wind must have knocked the vase over and woken him. He was always more alert than she was. There were times she swore she woke up just to find him watching over her.

"Come here, Philip," she murmured, tiredly yanking back the sheets. "You’ll hurt your paws--"

She halted when she noticed it. There was a smell in her room. Foreign, like leaves and earth. And the moonlight tracked down on the floors, revealing the muddy trail in the room that disappeared into the darkness Phillip kept hissing at.

Pulse pounding, she stared at the dark, long and hard, and when something moved, she screamed.