I bite my lip, thinking of the moment in the garden. Though I’m inexperienced with men, I’m not a fool. I know desire when I see it. And Kane wants me. I simply have to show him how much.
Chapter 8
Kane
I drum my fingers along the table, irritation coursing through my veins like a slow fire. I glance at the clock on the wall. She’s almost fifteen minutes late. A growl rumbles in my chest as I bite back my temper. I don’t know why I expected Briar to come to breakfast this morning after what happened yesterday. I was too confident in my hold on her already, and Briar is either too stubborn or frightened. It will take more time. A little more kindness. I curl my lip in disgust.
Suddenly, the door opens with a soft click and I hear skirts rustling. Briar enters with a whisper of silk, her footsteps nearly silent. I take her in silently, my broiling anger softly overwhelmed by her quiet presence. Her black hair is pulled back in a braid, twisting over her shoulders and breast with elegance. Her soft figure is draped in a simple gray gown, likely one of the ones I had my servants prepare for her. She slips into a chair, finally turning her dark eyes on me. They’re cold and stubborn, but I see a question behind them; uncertainty.
I try to summon my anger towards her brought on by the pain she caused me last night, but I can no longer find it. My lips pull back into a frown at the absence of the familiar emotion. Servants have already laid out a spread of breads, jams, fruits, and meats. Briar helps herself and I pour her freshly squeezed juice.
“I was beginning to think I had scared you away,” I murmur. Always kindness, I remind myself even though it has my stomach turning. Kindness until I have her.
She looks at me sharply, a fear flickering in her eyes. "I thought perhaps you would punish me for striking you."
I press my lips into a thin line. “Is that what your father did? He punished you when you displeased him?”
Her lips twitch. My little princess is holding back a secret. “No.”
“Have I told you yet that you aren’t a good liar, Briar?” I pop a grape into my mouth, relishing the sweet taste. I wonder if her kisses are as sweet. “In either case, I should apologize for my outburst yesterday.”
“Apologize?” She looks surprised.
“I was out of line. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I swallow my pride. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”
Briar bites her bottom lip and looks at me through her thick lashes. “I’m sorry for what I did.”
“Don’t be. I deserved it.” The atmosphere in the room changes. Her shoulders, strong and squared with stubbornness and prepared for whatever onslaught of punishment she expected, relax. And I find myself easing back into the velvet chair, the tendrils of darkness slink further away. “We’re holding a masquerade ball soon, to celebrate your Claiming. And my mother will be returning, she will expect a fanfare.”
“Your mother?” Briar’s attention is instantly on my family, rather than the party I’ve planned—cleverly masqueraded as a celebration of Briar, but in fact, designed for my mother. “When will she arrive?”
“The night of the ball, perhaps the night before. My mother is unpredictable and willful,” I say, stretching.
Briar’s eyes rove over my chest and biceps, sparking an ember of desire in me. It’s easy to forget that Briar sends my blood roaring. I feel a surge of predatory energy, the shadows calling me to hunt her until my teeth close around her neck and my tongue laps at her porcelain skin. I’m pulled from the reverie by her full lips parting and a sigh escaping.
“Excuse me,” I say gruffly, standing. “I have business to attend to. I trust you’ll be fine for the day.”
“Actually.” Briar rises hesitantly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I was hoping I could perhaps observe.”
“Why?” I cock a brow, a slip of suspicion in my tone.
She licks her lips. “If I’m to be your wife, and your Queen, I think it would be wise for me to understand your role here. Your passion. The way you rule.”
Her interest seems genuine and deep in my black heart I know I’m pleased. But I know mortals always hide their true motivations under pleasant disguises such as this one. I study her, searching for that flash of dishonesty. I can’t find it in her grey eyes. “Alright,” I quip, snatching my structured black coat from the back of the chair. “Follow.”
I stride out the door, not bothering to wait for her. I hear her footsteps tapping hurriedly behind me and I grin wickedly out of sight. As I expected, she’s rushing to keep up with my long strides—a little princess on a leash. I shrug on my jacket, leaving my tunic unbuttoned to expose a swath of my chest. We turn down a narrow hall, leading down and down into the bowels of the castle. The air changes here, sparkling with dark shadows and as cold as ice. The gothic opulence of the upper levels is lost here, giving way to grey stone and black metal torches to light the drab halls and rooms.
“Where are we going?” Briar asks, her voice rattling as she shivers.
I flick my wrist and a fur-lined cloak appears in my hand. I pause for a moment and Briar runs into my back, bouncing off of it with a small yelp. She freezes, her entire body stiff and I catch a whiff of her fear. Ignoring the rise of disappointment I can’t explain, I drape the cloak over her shoulders, securing it around her. She stares up at me, lips parted in surprise.
