13. Beauty and Bloodshed

When they returned to Apollo’s Keep hours before midnight when the gala was supposed to end, Kiran stormed off on his own, leaving his Delta Sienna in charge of sorting the Omegas out.

Seff weighed a thousand pounds. The Delta sorted them into groups of two—Seff with Allium—and sent them off with a Beta each. Their assigned Beta’s name was Sol, and she was as brisk as winter. She tossed them each a white armful of fabric.

“You’re to wear those at all times. There is a belt in your rooms. Keep it clean.” She strode down the hall ahead of the line, expecting the two Omegas to match her wide stride. “There are several bottles of glitter in their drawers. You are to paint it on your arms, legs, and chest—above your breasts”—

Allium leaned over to whisper, as if to prove some point, “It’s edible.”

For licking, Seff assumed.

—“every morning. When Kiran calls for you, paint it more thickly. Here is your room, Seff Bastan.” Sol halted and gestured to a wood door already labeled with her name at the juncture of two hallways, right in the corner. With a few twists and turns down corridors, Seff assumed they were already in the harem—which meant it wasn’t too far from the courtyard, unlike the Moon pack’s entirely separate building for Selene’s harem. “Come to the courtyard at six o’clock sharp. The Chosen will be given a tour of the keep. Goodnight.”

Sol took off down the next hall. Seff turned the knob but looked back to see if Allium was still there. No, her back was already turned and following Sol. Seff’s heart cracked.

The room was huge and decorated, of course, with nothing but gold and white. A small sofa pit occupied the center with a dozen fluffed pillows, a massive four-poster bed with sheer curtains and a wide gold belt as promised, a dresser and vanity with a chair, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the apple orchard. Soft yellow light emanated from several lamps atop side tables. The carpet was plush, like sinking into tall grass. It smelled like apples and fire smoke. It smelled like…a home. Comfortable and cozy, like she wanted to curl up in from of the lit fireplace and nap by the flames.

There was a long table set with a bowl of fruit—just gold apples—and a pitcher of water with two short glasses. Seff poured herself one and threw it back; she was absolutely parched. And despite her stubbornness, she devoured two apples. Then she tugged the magnolia clip from her hair, setting it lovingly on the vanity, and changed out of her dress.

Naked, she fumbled with her new “outfit” that really was just two long, wide strips of unadulterated white silk. Though ridiculous, Seff figured out how to wear it so it covered her breasts and privates: one piece thrown over each shoulder, and secured the gold belt that was more of a curtain rope—easy to untie with little effort. Or teeth.

She searched the vanity and dresser drawers and, praise the gods she didn’t believe in, pairs of white panties—small lacy things, barely able to be called underwear—were stacked in the top drawer. They were Seff’s new saviors. And the straps on the sides accented the outfit.

Seff looked in the mirror and found herself just as surprised when she wore that red dress. Of course, she looked beautiful. But she wanted to be beautiful for herself and for Hawthorn, not two Alphas suddenly lusting her after only meeting them less than twenty-four hours ago. She yanked off the gold ribbon.

There was nothing left to do but sleep. But there was no lock on the door.

She wedged the vanity chair under the doorknob. Kiran could easily destroy whatever his considerable strength could, but it still gave her a sense of security, even if it was slim.

Having figured out the outfit, she didn’t want to entangle herself in it, so she slipped into the four-poster naked. The mattress and abundance of pillows sighed and sunk underneath her. It was a far cry from her bedding at the Leftovers. Much improved, she admitted begrudgingly.

Her body was wired with energy from the past day’s events, but exhaustion from the same adventure won over—she was fast asleep in minutes. Not tired enough to not dream.

Seff dreamed she was back on the Frisk Floor in a bedroom with Hawthorn. They were actually on the bed this time. His head was between her thighs, hands gripping the backs of her knees. Each lap of his tongue was sending Seff closer and closer to the edge. Closer, closer, closer—

Then he was suddenly atop her, hungry kisses to her jaw. “Seff, I’m in love with you.”

Then his naked body was lying on the floor, drenched in blood from his torn-open throat. Hawthorn spasmed as blood and air bubbled from the gore. Seff screamed but no sound came out. She fell to her knees and weep for his blank, unseeing eyes.

“Get up.” A strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her to her feet, shaking her roughly. “You fuck me now.”

She whirled at the cocky voice to find Kiran behind her. He was gold and beauty and bloodshed and cruelty.

Seff tried to free herself, but his grip was too strong. He didn’t like that. Kiran’s expression turned murderous. He Shifted into his wolf form and lunged for her throat.

From a different vantage point, Seff watched her own body sprawl on the floor and bleed out.