Another Revelation
*Hezzlie*
I’ve been locked in this room for several days, and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m on level 682 of this stupid game on my phone where you have to sort different items into groups of three. That’s how I’m spending my time these days–not out with my friends or in school or even running around outside. I just play shitty games on my phone, occasionally read a book, eat whatever food is brought to me, and stare out the window.
I probably spend more time staring out the window than I should, honestly. I imagine myself over there, in that castle, away from this place. I like to pretend that my father has been looking for me, that he’s glad to see me, that he welcomes me into the family. He tells me why he had to kill Rowan’s father, steal his girlfriend, and slice him in half, and it all makes perfect sense. Turns out, my father is the good guy, and Rowan is a monster.
Except, I’m supposed to marry Rowan, which makes it hard for me to accept he isn’t justified in some of what he’s doing here. I just don’t know what’s taking so long. Has he even asked my dad if he wants me? What was that recording they made of me shifting the other night about?
And why the hell can’t anyone come in here and talk to me? Since James left a few days ago, when he explained what a mate is, he hasn’t been back. I haven’t seen Dean since that night I shifted, and Natalie only brings me my meals sometimes when Wilma is busy. She refuses to say more than a few words.
If I wasn’t crazy before, I’m getting that way now.
I look out at the darkening sky. The moon is rising, and while it’s not full yet, it gets larger and rounder every day. Now that I know I’m a wolf shifter, it seems to be affecting me differently, too. I know it’s stupid to think that my wolf would really be controlled by the moon, it seems like, whenever it rises across the sky, she gets more antsy. Like she wants to run.
She also seems to be whining more about my mate.
There’s a knock on my door, and then Wilma comes in, bringing my dinner. I try to force a smile and thank her, but it is obviously disingenuous. I’ve tried to prevent myself from taking advantage of her kindness by asking questions of her that she might get in trouble, so I try to steer away from that. But tonight, my boredom comes out a bit mischievous. “I’m sure going to miss you when I’m gone, Wilma,” I tell her as she sets the covered tray down.
“Oh, I’ll miss you, too, dear.” She looks at me for a moment, her mouth downturned, tears in her eyes. “It’s just too bad that you have to go over there.”
“Is it?” I ask, not sure what else to say. “I mean, I know he’s the enemy of the king, but he is my father.”
I see a shudder go down her spine. “Oh, honey. I don’t think that will matter. Darksky is such a horrible person. He’ll probably lock you up the way he’s locked up our poor Princess Mara.”
“You don’t really know she’s locked up, do you?” I ask, not sure why it matters to me. The jealous part of me wants to imagine Rowan’s love over there in chains. The rest of me thinks that no one could be so cruel as to lock someone up who did nothing wrong, except for being in the wrong place at the same time. Could someone who is evil enough to do that actually have their blood rushing through my veins? “Did he send pictures or something?”
“Well, no,” she admits. “But you don’t understand how awful he is. It’s a wonder you’re so kind and sweet.”
It almost makes me laugh that she says such a thing while I’m trying to manipulate her. I”m not as sweet and innocent as she is trying to make me sound. “Well, I hope everyone is happy when the princess is back.” My stomach is rumbling, so I pull the cloche off my dinner, revealing mouth watering pork chops with gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans. “Do you think the wedding will take place right away?”
Wilma’s forehead crinkles as she stares at me. “What’s that, dear?”
“The wedding.” I pick up my fork and knife and slice into the pork chop. It smells even better as I lift a bite to my nose. “Between Mara and Rowan.”
I’m chewing when Wilma gasps and then starts to laugh, so I can’t ask her what’s so funny. She doubles over at the waist and has to hold onto a chair. “Oh, no. You’ve got it all mixed up again, dear. My, my. You do have a habit of taking bits and pieces and running with it, huh?”
“What?” I set my fork down, thinking whatever I’ve said that’s ridiculous is important.
She wipes tears from her eyes for a different reason now. “Sweetie, Rowan and Mara can’t get married.”
“Why not?” I stare at her for a moment. “I mean, he’s obviously in love with her, or else he wouldn’t be trying so desperately to get her back, right? He threw her a birthday party. She stayed here at the castle…”
“Yes, while it is true he loves her very much, he did throw her a party, and she stayed at the castle–that’s because this was her home. But not because they are getting married, you silly girl.”
I’m not sure what to say. I just stare at her, trying to work it out. If he doesn’t want her back because he’s in love with her, then why? I thought I was told she was from another kingdom–is that what they said?
No, they said her grandparents were from another kingdom.
Maybe her mother’s parents?
“Oh, my god,” I mutter.
Wilma is still chuckling as she turns to walk out the door. She hasn’t explained it to me yet, but I”m already there, so when she says, “Princess Mara is King Rowan’s sister, darling,” I’m not so shocked as I would have been a few minutes earlier.
And if I’d been chewing, I would’ve choked.
He’s her brother–not her lover.
*‘See? I told you he’s ours,’ *my wolf says in my brain.
And if she’s fucking right, what happens now?
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