One
Hey everyone, thank you for choosing to read this story (: This story idea has been in my drafts for what feels like years. I would develop it for a while and hit a dead end, then scrap it. Usually if I can’t keep writing momentum with a book idea, I retire it. My OneNote is probably filled with over fifty retired ideas that never came to anything! For some reason, I couldn’t give this idea up, and I’ve reworked this project four times now :|. I’m finally happy with the story as a whole and am able to post it! I truly love this story now, and I love Aesira and Everin as characters.
Thank you for the support, and enjoy this story (:
~Aesira
Had I been told a month ago that I would be willingly walking to my death, I wouldn’t have believed it.
Yet here I am, marching across a polished oak floor toward the most vile, vicious Alpha these lands have ever seen. A floor that is the very one my blood will likely be spilt on in mere moments.
What a dutiful daughter. Voluntarily thrust into the arms of her father’s greatest enemy. All while dressed in the most ridiculous, frothy white dress I’ve ever seen.
“So, where is he?” I ask at the woman walking in front of me.
She doesn’t look back, nor does she respond. I pull a face at the back of her head, hating how perfectly her sleek brown hair has been fashioned.
Her job is to bring me to the Alpha. She was waiting in the driveway as the transport pulled up out front, ushering me out while ranting on about how little time we have.
I have to see him, even if every ounce of my body rejects the notion.
I’ve only ever seen one account of him. A servant back home was caught with an illicit newspaper copy, and I caught a glimpse.
They had been merciless with the shading, generously shadowing the lines of his cheekbones to the sweeping angle of his jawline. I remember his eyes staring intensely back at me, a burnished gold unlike anything I had ever seen. The artist expertly translated bitterness, a coldness lingering in them that I knew was accurate.
That illustration haunted me from then on.
So when my father came to me with this mission, it terrified me. But I wasn’t given a choice.
My father has ruled over my home pack for 30 years, and during that entire time, he has been on the brink of war with this pack — even before Everin became Alpha here.
Now, I’ve become a tool to end the conflict. I’m here to assassinate Alpha Everin.
A unique poison crafted by our greatest physicians sits dormant in my body. It will only be released if someone deigns to mark me.
The hope, is that Everin will.
I shrug off the guards heavy hand on my shoulder, exhaling irritably through my nose.
The two women behind me aren’t anything like the guards I’m used to back home. Tall, lithe with their blades sharpened and glinting, strapped to their backs.
“These guards are making me nervous,” I tell the woman in front of me. She steps with purpose, her shoes scuffing against the floor as she hastens her pace.
“It’s protocol, I’m afraid,” she responds blandly.
Am I that much of a threat? I can’t run very far in this dress, which tangles around my legs with every step. I’m convinced that’s by design.
How I’ve made it this far into Everin’s private residence is beyond me. Father assumes his plan is brilliant, and in his arrogance, has failed to consider how deeply Everin’s hatred for him runs.
My father’s plan has been to offer me as a bride to Everin. He will then marry me, and on our wedding night, will dig his teeth in my neck to complete a marking ritual that will kill him as the poison transfers from my veins to his.
Unfortunately, there are far too many ways this plan can fail.
“What is your name again?” I ask the cold, indifferent female.
“Maven.” She says it like it’s a great pain to share any part of her with me.
“Is he going to kill me?” I quicken my steps as we continue through Everin’s manor. I should be keeping track of my path through these great halls, but I’m too focused on my impending doom to pay attention.
Maven looks over her shoulder at me, a sneer cleaving apart her impassive features. “He should kill you. You’re filth.”
I scowl back at her. “You don’t know me.”
“I know of your father.” Her shoulders tighten. “I know your pack.”
I’ve been fed all sorts of information about Alpha Everin’s Pack that has sullied its image permanently in my mind. I’m sure Belinda has had a similar experience.
“Your Alpha isn’t so benevolent either,” I mumble under my breath., glaring at her back.
“You better hope he is today.” I hear the hint of amusement in her voice. “Your life depends on it.”
We reach a tall, dark wooden door that Maven presses open, revealing the other half of the home.
Every step deeper into this sweeping manor we get, the more it stuns me. It’s dark, hauntingly beautiful. The architecture is large and sweeping, with minimal furnishings. It makes everything I see appear more purposeful.
Father would be pleased to know the layout of his enemies home, even if it reveals little about Everin himself.
“Through here.” She leads me past a sprawling staircase. The dark wood of the home is only ever disrupted by rich landscapes depicting frames of war or incredible scenery I don’t recognise.
We stop abruptly before another set of large doors. These one’s have been cut into, stained glass fashioned through the centre of each door.
Maven opens the door an inch. A resounding creak rumbles through the space, making me shiver. She mutters something to someone through the door before she leans back.
“Wait here. He will be arriving shortly.”
She slips through the doors, leaving me alone with the guards. I shift from foot to foot, anticipation creeping up my limbs, causing me to shake uncontrollably. I offer a trembling smile to one of the guards in hopes I may coerce her to get me out of here when things become tense, but she only stares bitterly back.
Soon enough, Maven’s arm snakes through the door and she yanks me inside.
The room is large and sprawling. The ceilings are vaulted, painted with imagery that has my breath catching in my throat. Deities I’ve never heard of are sprawled out naked, animals and nature depicted around them. One half of the ceiling is a dazzling sun, while on the other is a round, unsettling moon.
I’m dragged to the centre of the room and positioned there by Maven, like an offering.
The silence is cold and endless, until the far door creaks open, and Alpha Everin stalks in, followed by six others who seems to be vying for his attention.
My blood turns ice cold.
There is no mistaking an Alpha in a room of mortals. He stands at least six foot five inches, his strides long and purposeful.
There was once an old legend that Alpha’s were made by gods. My father proved such stories to be false, due to his crippling ailment held from birth – one that he does not publicize.
However, seeing Everin has brought such tales back to life.
He doesn’t look at me, even as he strides in my direction. Despite my atrocious garb, I don’t draw his eyes at all. I would be offended were that not ideal.
It gives me time to assess the most prolific man ever known.
My mother was right when she warned of the insidious cold that shrouds him. It has me shrinking back as he approaches, the power of his position nearly knocking me back a step, despite me being used to my father.
He wears common royal attire. His tunic is as black of obsidian, with the filigree adorning the shoulders and breast of the shirt as gold as the cunning eyes that are narrowed ever-so-slightly in concentration.
My lungs squeeze. Those eyes. As bright and resplendent as they have been so lovingly described in articles about him. Not like honey, or even like the sun. They are gold like the metal, if not a touch darker.
I stiffen, noting that he is about to breeze past me without notice until Maven slides in his path.
He halts, looking down at her with vague disinterest.
“Alpha, I have someone here that you have been expecting.” Even her voice is shaky as she steps back to motion at me.
I freeze, dropping my gaze. I have no respect for this man, but showing him my submission may save my life.
“Who?” His deep voice rumbles through me, my skin tingling. Why must members of this Pack have such silken, sultry accents? They are nothing like the abrupt, grating ones from other packs.
“This is Aesira Ashwood,” Maven exclaims.
I risk glancing up at him, nearly fainting as I feel the full weight of his stare on me.
I’m so fucking dead.
“Ashwood.” He says my last name slowly, like he’s tasting it on his tongue. “Tobias’s daughter.”
“Yes, Alpha. She is the gift he promised you, remember?” Maven grabs my arm with a grip so tight I could wince. I don’t though, knowing how easy it would be for this male to revel in my weakness.
My father’s plan is frankly ridiculous. I knew it before I was sent off, and I know it more so now.
I’m disposable, replaceable. My older sister is my fathers heir, and I’m the risk he’s willing to take. If he’s wrong about Everin, and I’m killed right in this spot, then no great loss has been suffered.
I wouldn’t have accepted this great mission if I had a choice. No matter how ardently my father touts this as an opportunity to cement my name in history, to be the tool used to bring a powerful Alpha to his knees, I don’t want any of it.
If I denied him, though, I would have been ostracized, or forced into this position anyway.
Everin doesn’t respond for a long, painful moment. I risk another glance up. His raven coloured hair is slightly too long, all messy around his ears. He obviously keeps most of it swept back, like his stressed hand can’t help itself, although a few errant pieces brush against his forehead, reaching his eyelashes.
“She’ll do,” he says abruptly.
My mouth falls open as he continues past me. He’s dismissed me, like I’m nothing.
That was not what I expected.
I whirl around. I can’t accept those two words. What will come of me? I can’t go another moment without knowing, being forced to fear for my life until it makes me sick.
“Alpha Everin, I would like to speak with you,” I call out, although my voice is weak and shaky.
Maven shoots me a worried glare, although it’s her she’s concerned about, not me.
He doesn’t respond, waiting as one of the guards opens the door for him.
“Hey!” I yell.
My voice rings out loudly in the room. Maven physically recoils at the sound, squeaking in fright, and everyone, including Everin stiffens.
He turns slowly, his gaze capturing me with its intensity as he steps toward me again.
“You will not speak to me through your cronies. Tell me your intentions here, now,” I snap before I lose all my confidence.
It’s been a long, arduous four day journey to get here. I haven’t slept properly since I left, and every inch of my body aches. I’m dressed in this hideous dress and I will not allow anything to hang in the air until I’m eventually murdered.
He tilts his head imperceptibly, his gaze condemning me. “What entitles you to speak to me like that?”
“What entitles you to the belief that I have any reason to respect you?” My nerves have dissolved entirely now, replaced by a vicious, burning anger that I’ve repressed since I left home.
To my surprise, he laughs roughly.
If I thought that perfectly structured face was beautiful before, it truly presses the breath from my lungs now. His smile isn’t cruel, but truly amused, lighting up his entire face.
“You’re spirited.” His voice is thick like molten honey. “There’s no doubting you’re an Ashford.”
“Are we to be married?” I demand.
He angles his head, taking a step closer. “Your fathers offering is laughable. It is pathetic, to believe you’re enough to compel me into political submission.”
My scowl deepens. Asshole.
“I’ll take that as a no, then.” I turn to leave, although I’m not sure where I could go. Even if Everin let me return home, there would be no place for me there.
His hand lashes out impossibly fast, grabbing my forearm.
“You don’t move.” His tone carries enough of a warning that once he lets me go, I stand securely in one spot.
This is where he kills me. It would be so easy for him, just a quick snap of my neck and this small, irritating interruption is dealt with.
“I’ll take his offering as nothing more than a suggestion of peace. Of his good faith.” He looks past me. “It remains to be seen whether—”
“I am more than just a suggestion,” I hiss, my fingers curling into fists.
I will not be kept here for amusement, as his possession. If he cannot promise me a marriage, then this is all for nothing. He won’t mark me without a ceremony.
He takes another step forward and I resist the urge to recoil back, the cold horror of his power settling on my skin.
“You have an awful lot of respect for yourself considering you’ve handed yourself to me to be used for my amusement,” he comments lowly, intending for the words to only be heard by me. It seems, however, that everyone watching on is engrossed by how this is unfolding.
“I’m doing what is right, what is my duty.”
He laughs, but it’s cold and unamused. “You’re doing what is right for who? Your father, who thrust you onto my lap when I want nothing more than to tear your throat out?”
His gaze dips to my neck, like he can see my pulse rapidly fluttering, or the poison stalking beneath my skin.
I wonder how Ashwood blood would look as it stained his floors. It would paint the marble vibrant red, coating Everin’s black boots while he looks down with grim satisfaction.
“If you kill me, my father will have every reason to wage war against you,” I counter rigidly.
“Would he though?” Everin’s perfect features morph into a look of mocking sympathy. “Would he even miss you?”
Anger mists my vision blood red. How dare he. He knows nothing about my relationship with my father. I’m feeding into exactly what he wants, but I can’t reign my feelings back in.
Maybe it’s because there is some truth to his insult.
“Fuck you.” My voice betrays me, cracking between the two words as traitorous emotion claws up my throat.
I’m so tired…so painfully tired. These may be my last moments, yet I can hardly function before him.
“Were you raised knowing you were nothing more than a commodity to him? Someone to be reduced to nothing more than a gift for someone like me?” He’s relentless, almost…angry. Is he angry at me, or for me?
It’s can’t be the latter. It just can’t.
“I’ve always known I would serve my Alpha. I’ve always done what it took to…” I drift off, a barrage of words coming to the forefront of my mind, but none sound like what I intend to convey.
His golden eyes narrow. “What? You’ve always done what it took to what?”
I press my lips tightly together.
“Appease your Alpha? Obey?” His voice is cutting now, for more than one reason.
“He’s my father,” I say quietly. “What was I supposed to do?”
Beneath his fine attire, his entire body is tense. Silence ticks on, seeming to have its own sound in this expansive room. Everin’s cohorts shuffles uneasily while their Alpha weighs the value of my life.
His gaze travels down my person, taking in the old fashioned dress and all its lace and puffy sleeves. His eyes darken. He’s disgusted.
“Pitiful,” he says eventually.
I recoil. I figured it would be my body that is wounded by now, not pride, my ego. While I’m ashamed of my own compliance, I’m just trying to survive.
From two Alpha’s, not just one.
“Would you serve me so dutifully if I am to be your Alpha?” It’s a taunt, a challenge.
“Yes,” I spit out begrudgingly.
If Everin and I marry, I become a member of his pack forever. He’ll be my Alpha. It will be his command I’ll be subjected to, although I won’t give him my compliance so easily.
It won’t matter, anyway. Not on our wedding night, where his teeth will sink into my neck, and he’ll be exposed to enough poison to end his life.
His next step forward is enough to leave us almost touching. I stumble back a bit awkwardly. He smells like the forbidden depths of the sea, like lavender and cedarwood.
His hand reaches out. My breath catches in my throat, a faint tremor starting in my fingertips as I anticipate that hand wrapping securely around my neck.
Instead, he grasps my chin, lifting until my eyes meet his.
“I should send Tobias’s gift back to him in pieces as a warning to never think me a fool again,” he murmurs, gently tilting my head from side to side as he examines me. “Such a shame, for it to be you.”
I swallow my fright, my stomach pitching. I’m going to throw up. Everin is prolonging this torment, feeding off my fear so that when he finally ends me, he’ll enjoy it even more.
“I know you’re a ruse, a trap. I know some part of you is designed to kill me, or disarm me,” he continues.
I don’t so much as blink. He’s smarter than father gave him credit for. He’s unveiled my plan, but I’m not going to let it be my word that confirms it.
“Just do it already.” My mouth is dry, each word tasting thick and leaden. “Kill me already.”
Slowly, he lowers his hand. We stare at each other for a moment, or perhaps an eternity — it all feels the same.
“We marry in a week,” he announces, looking pointedly at Maven.
She looks about ready to faint. Everyone else gasps at Everin’s sudden and unexpected proposal.
“Wait, what?” The shock is so overwhelming, I’m unsteady on my feet.
He starts off to the door which opens for him on command. He pauses at the threshold, looking back over his shoulder at me.
“Don’t let me down, wife.” And with no more clarification, he walks from the room, followed by his entourage.
I shift my gaze to a stunned Maven, who appears just as devoid of answers as I am.
What the fuck?
