Merci
Devlin is second largest male I've ever been in a room with alone. His elder brother being the first. I've been put in these chambers which are all dark wood and lush green wall hangings to hyperventilate in my coat while he prepares for whatever it is he's about to do to me.
I've an idea. It's not like I didn't see what Ren was doing to Netta. Well... not entirely. Some of the girls at market have whispered about their husbands, but I'm not wed so they won't tell me what it is they do.
He'd fed me tea and biscuits, apologizing for not having a
proper meal
at this hour, then left me in his room while he
tidied up
.
He's hardly touched me so far. Which is good. Maybe I won't be ruined come night fall. Maybe I can escape, return home, and take what things I have to town. I could stay with my friends. Claim Netta's been stolen if she won't leave.
Something tells me she's here to stay.
Shifting on my feet only brings me closer to the bed.
The Sveril's bed.
It's silken coverlet is tangled, heavy with his woodsy scent. While the oak floor is clear of debris, about half his bureau drawers are askew. There's a small framed painting of a pair of girls on the end table next to his bed. I'm reaching for it when the door opens, and Devlin steals my attention.
He's in his sleeping things. A set of thin grey linen sleeping trousers and a tunic with a deep loose cut down his chest. Through it, coarse black hair peppers fine muscle. He's got nice arms. The way his sleeves are rolled up sends a flush through me. When I meet his gaze, I'm reminded how incredibly foreign he is. Devlin's cat eyes glitter.
My skin pricks with fear.
Devlin
I've no idea what I'm doing so I give myself a few good slaps to be sure I'm not in a dream and pace the hall.
There's a girl in my chambers. One with big hazel eyes fanned in dark lashes and loose chestnut hair that's dressed in large shaken out curls. One that my brother has somehow delivered to me and asked me not to breed.
It must be a joke.
She's in there filling the room with the smell of her heat and I've no idea how to keep my hands to myself.
Fuck, I'm not even fully awake. My cock's got all my blood currently. Hard and dampening my trousers, I'd rather be using it than the deck of cards in my hands.
Ren's growl comes through the wall answered by breathy feminine sounds, and I find myself blinking at the door. Clearly, he knows what he's doing.
I need a plan. I've no idea if she's willing. If she is, this will all be easier. It's doubtful. Human girls don't just show up in Sveril lands of their own accord. Prejudice and fear runs deep in them thanks in large part to creatures like my eldest brother.
I've plenty of belts in my chambers. Should she fight I could simply strap her to the bed. My cock pulses at the thought of her laid out like a feast on my sheets.
Lost to reason, I throw open the door and inhale her heat. I make a sound deep in my throat—something like a growl. It's so primal it startles me. It startles her too.
Merci, the girl, takes three steps back, putting her legs against my bed. "Please—I don't want it to hurt."
My shoulders melt. She's my bride and she's scared out of her wits. This is the creature I'm to cherish all my days, the blessing of the Gods I do not deserve, and she's trembling. I hold out my hand and ask, "Would you like to play cards?"
"Is that all you want from me?"
"For now." My cock calls me a liar.
"Just be honest with me. I—I don't know what's going to happen..." She scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand.
I set down the stack of cards on my bureau and urge her to sit on the coverlet. Her rough wool coat is wrapped so tightly around her I've no idea what the rest of her looks like. She stares right into my eyes though, playing at boldness. "I want to go home."
After drawing a deep breath, I struggle to find the right words. "Merci, this is your home for now. Maybe in a year or so I'll build us our own longhouse but for now this is where we'll live."
"I don't—this isn't what I want." She bites her lip. It's distractingly attractive. Her loose curls are lovely, and the way they trail along her long neck... She reads my thoughts. "You're going to ruin me, take my maidenhood."
I crook a brow. "That's a ridiculous concept. Our females are rarely virgins when they become brides." At her look of confusion, I explain, "There are so many of us and so few of them, they tend to try a few males out before they settle on their favorite."
Her eyes flash with anger. "So you only abduct and force those outside of your tribe?"
"It's better for those females than being sold like veal. Unmarked females are fair game, and when they're here, they're worshiped." Sveril males may be territorial, might be willing to fight or fuck a female into submission, but we know their value. "How old are you?"
"I turned eighteen just before the solstice."
Old enough to know what her near future would be like, regardless. "Do you have a betrothed? Are you promised to another?"
She shakes her head.
"Then I'm not giving you up. You're too precious. Too stunning."
Merci searches my face, cheeks turning pink.
"You look flushed, won't you let me hang your coat?"
Reluctantly she nods and shrugs it off, allowing me to carry her woolen shield away from her and store it out of reach. She's in a thin shift, maybe her nightgown. It's insubstantial and hardly hides the curves of her breasts. The outline of her pert nipples teases me.
She folds her arms over her chest and gives me a hard stare. "I think—I think we should discuss some things."
"Likely a good idea." Stuck with inspiration, I decide to distract her. I return to her but put myself on the far side of the bed and take up the pack of cards. "Aces and pairs?"
"I don't know what that is."
