When we finally return to the estate, I fly up to the window ledge and watch as Ella struggles to unload all the parcels and packages. She carries them up the stairs of the estate and to her stepfamily’s rooms.
Her stepsisters make her dress them and fix their hair. All the while they make comments about her tattered clothing, bragging to her that they will enthrall the prince this evening with their feminine charms.
I’m not sure what they are speaking of because there is absolutely nothing charming, feminine, or beautiful about either of them. There is a reason why they are still eligible.
She helps her stepmother ready herself as well, and by the time she returns to the tower, it is easy to see she is exhausted.
Having observed how she readied her stepfamily, each of us decide to do the same for her.
“Please.” I bow low. “Allow us to help you get ready for the ball.”
She smiles. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
When she opens the package with her dress, her eyes widen, and she beams across at Devon. In this moment, I am utterly jealous that she directs her gorgeous smile at him. How will I bear it when she looks at her husband, the prince, in this way?
“It’s perfect, Devon!” she exclaims, and then wraps her arms around him in a hug. “I absolutely love it. The prince is sure to notice me in this.”
His expression falls slightly, but he quickly recovers and bows low. “I am pleased you like it.”
Cash and Finn draw her a bath, filling the old washtub she has in the corner. I hate that this is the best we can offer her. With no way to heat the water, I’m certain it must be cold, but she does not complain. Instead, she thanks us from behind her room divider.
I was glad to note, however, that the poultice worked. The marks on her back are now completely closed.
When she emerges wrapped only in a towel, her long silken hair is wet and clings to her body. Tiny rivulets of water run down her neck to the valley between her breasts, disappearing beneath the fabric of the towel, which seems to hug and accentuate every curve of her form.
She takes the slip gown from my hands and goes behind her divider to dry off and change into it.
When she emerges, it takes all my effort not to gape at her. The slip, although it covers her body, only comes down to mid-thigh. It is made of fine white silk to go beneath her dress, but the fabric is so light it is almost completely sheer.
My hands ache with want to touch her. I have never been with a female. None of my brothers have either. It is easy to see in their gazes the same desire and longing I’m sure I express in mine. I force myself to look away as I gather her dress.
She is not mine.
She is ours to protect and defend, but that is all. We can never be more than this to her.
I do not know him, but I already dislike the prince. He had better treat her like the great treasure that she is and never take her for granted as royalty is oft to do when given something so precious. If he does not, he will answer to us.
The sound of a carriage below draws my attention as a shrill voice cries up toward the tower. “Don’t bother waiting up for us, Ella!” one of her sisters mocks. “I’ll probably call for you in the morning after I’ve married the prince!”
Ella’s eyes lock onto mine. “How will I get to the ball without a carriage?”
Nyx bows low. “Leave it to us. We will get you there. Do not worry.”
I love that she trusts us enough not to ask anything further. She accepts what we tell her to be true. It is good that she has this deep connection to us. I’ve heard that it can take guards and their female many moons to form a bond as strong as this. The fact that we have one already means fate was wise in choosing us to be hers.
Chapter 11
Kai
I stare at Ella as Nyx fixes her hair. He pulls it up into an intricate design of twists and braids atop her head, leaving half of it down to cascade over her back and shoulders. The dress, made of fine silk, is light blue and seems to sparkle and shimmer like pale starlight.
Her shoulders and neckline are bare and exposed as the fabric dips to the “V” of her breasts, accentuating the soft, creamy mounds that peak over the material. My fingers ache with the want to touch her delicate skin. But I must quell this hunger and desire that burns brightly in me because she will never be my mate.
The clip-clop of hooves downstairs draws her attention, and she turns back to us with a questioning gaze.
Devon steps forward. “I have procured a ride for you to the castle, along with two chaperones.”
She gives him a puzzled look and starts for the stairs, but he stops her abruptly. “I have something else for you as well,” he adds.
“What is it?”
Closing his eyes, Devon calls upon magic to materialize his possessions. A pearl necklace appears in his hands. He smiles and offers it to her.
“This is for me?” She stares at the necklace in wonder. “It’s too much. I—I cannot accept this, Devon.”
“Please.” He bows low. “I want you to have it.”
She hesitates a moment, and then turns her back to him. Carefully, she lifts her hair from her
