Chapter 197. Sick
Maisie
Margaret’s silent footsteps brushed against the marble outside and Bastian shook his head, baring his teeth at me. "With that bloody scent of yours all over the place, this isn’t going to fool her."
He sneered down at me, murmuring so softly, I barely heard him, "We’re going to have to try for something a little more intimate. Can’t say this is how I imagined I would have you in my bed the first time."
I was still trembling, still in too much shock to process any of his words, to fight against him when he gripped my shoulders and dragged me further into his carven of a bedroom.
He tossed me roughly onto the large mattress, and my back hit maroon sheets that smelled faintly of cedar, and I barely had a moment to twist aside when he climbed over me and he grabbed my wrists and yanked them above my head, pinning me into the mattress.
The sudden weight of his body over mine made my stomach lurch. His thighs bracketed mine, caging me in. The cedar scent of his sheets filled my nose as he leaned down, close enough that our breaths mingled.
I couldn’t breathe.
All I could see was the dream. The woman running. The bodies by that rock, dead, drained of all life and warmth. And now, in their place, I saw my mates. Four of them. Lifeless.
The door swung open just then. "Sebastian," Margaret was saying as she stepped in.
And froze.
For one long second, the only sound in the room was my own ragged breathing.
Bastian’s chest was pressed against mine. My nightdress had ridden up. His face was inches from mine. The dimly lit bedroom. The rumpled sheets. To anyone walking in, it looked exactly like what it was supposed to. Compromising. Intimate.
And I knew it was enough to dismiss Margaret’s suspicion that I had overheard her conversation with Kisten.
As if proving the point, Margaret’s eyes brightened as they moved over us slowly.
Then, her lips curved into something that almost looked like satisfaction. "Carry on," she said softly, and closed the door behind her.
The moment the latch clicked, something inside me snapped.
I twisted violently beneath Bastian, yanking one wrist free. "Get off me."
"Maisie, wait—" He tried to grab me again, but I shoved hard against his chest. He was heavy, but the surge of panic gave me strength. I drove my knee up and he grunted, rolling just enough for me to scramble out from under him.
I didn’t look back.
I ran.
Bare feet slapping against cold marble, I tore out of his room and down the hallway like something was chasing me. My heart was slamming so hard it hurt. Everything felt wrong. Broken.
Margaret’s voice kept replaying in my head on a loop.
Being mated to four of them should be more than enough to keep the gate open for long enough.
When they die, she will be far too weak to refuse the bond.
Why do you think I accepted the truce in the first place?
Ryder’s words joined the mix, echoing in the back of my mind.
Enjoy your time with them, princess. However long it lasts before you become their ruin.
I turned the corner and my heart jolted.
Margaret was waiting for me at the end of the corridor.
She leaned against the wall in her black night robes, watching me with quiet amusement as I came to a halt. When she took in my dirt-streaked feet, the wild panic and bone rattling fear I couldn’t hide, her lips curved into a small smile.
"Ah," she said softly. "So you did hear."
She pushed off the wall and began walking toward me at a leisurely pace. "I was wondering how long it would take you to piece it together. Sebastian tells me you found the books and could read them. You’re even cleverer than your father was."
I took a step back. "Stay away from me."
Margaret didn’t stop. "You look just like him when you’re afraid. Your father. He had that same look in his eyes the night I told him what my plans were. I suppose that’s the real reason he ran."
She tilted her head, her blonde brow furrowing. "Did you know it took me years to find him? The bloodline you carry is rare. Only one keeper is born in each generation. I searched for years. When I finally found Silas, he was weak. An Omega. His blood was so diluted it was barely worth anything."
She stopped a few feet away from me, eyes gleaming.
"But I knew what the gate required. A sacrifice. A strong vessel. Silas could never survive the change. So I made one that could."
My blood ran cold.
"You," she said simply. "I had hoped you would be strong enough. And you were. The moment you were born, I saw it in your eyes. That flash of crimson. You keep asking why I had no interest in your sister. Now you know why. You inherited that drop of power I needed. She was nothing. Ordinary. But you..." Her smile widened. "You were perfect."
My pulse hammered erratically and I shook my head, voice barely above a whisper. "You’re insane."
"I tried to get you back," she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. "I would have raised you here. Bonded you to my sons when you were old enough. But those princes hid you too well."
She waved a hand dismissively. "When word reached me that you were changing—a wolf becoming a Lycan femaleI knew fate was finally on my side. But you slipped away again."
My legs felt unsteady. "But if you bonded me to them..."
"No great power comes without sacrifice," she shrugged.
Oh goddess. I was going to be sick. I thought I’d looked in the eye of the Queen and seen evil. But this... this made her look like a saint.
If she saw the disgust written all over my face, she didn’t show. She continued, like she was drilling important knowledge into me.
"It nearly drove me mad, trying to figure out how to get you back here. But when I heard of your mating rite..."
Her eyes glittered in a manner that made my skin crawl and she let out a soft, pleased breath. "Four strong bloodlines. Powerful mates. It was even better than I could’ve hoped for. The stronger the bloodlines, the wider the rift. I suppose by the expression on your face, the dreams must have begun. I hoped it would, this close to the very place everything began."
I felt like the floor was tilting beneath me. The cliff. Oh god. Oh god.
"Why?" I croaked, even as I tried to understand everything she had just said to me.
If all of this was indeed real, if this wasn’t just some horrible dream I couldn’t wake up from, why would anyone want to open the rift?
I remembered the dream. The creatures in them. How hard and cruel they were. What could anyone stand to gain from bringing them here?
Margaret only stared at me and for a moment, I thought I saw something dark slither in her eyes. But it was gone in the next blink.
She didn’t answer the question. I knew better than to expect that from her. So, I asked a different question. "Why tell me all of this? I could go straight to Soren and tell him everything—"
"You could, but you won’t. Not for the fear of sounding insane because we both know they won’t believe you." She shrugged. "And besides, it would be a lot less tedious if you chose to join us, rather than forcing you into it. Though, you do not really have much of a choice in the matter."
My throat felt tight and I could barely get the words out. "What do you mean?"
Ryder had said the same thing. You will aid our cause, whether you want to or not.
Margaret took one more step closer and I fought the urge to flee from her.
"On the night of Samhain, I will have the Queen assassinated and you enthroned," she deadpanned.
I went still. "The crown—"
"Is nothing but a steel coronet," she cut in. "The power lies in the ruby, and it is sentient in the sense that it finds the best line, the best path that will take it back into the hands of its owner. When Lysandra dies, it doesn’t matter where you are. The crown will find you."
She smiled and there was such hunger and longing in her eyes as she said, "And when it does, the gate will open."
And I was going to lose everything. Them. And goddess knew what would happen. I was going to lose my friends. Everything I ever held dear in my life.
And maybe I was selfish of thinking about that first over the fact that the world was going to fucking end.
I shook my head, voice hoarse. "I won’t let you do this."
Margaret laughed. It was a sound of genuine amusement.
"Oh, my dear," she said fondly. "You already have."
She reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, her touch cold and I fought the revulsion in my gut, even as terror paralyzed me.
I never noticed it until this very moment, how much aura she was throwing off. Or maybe she’d kept it hidden to make herself appear almost harmless.
It rubbed against me like poison. And it suffocated me like a hand around my neck. That darkness was in her eyes again and I wondered if she knew she looked like a demon.
"Naive little thing," she cooed. "I’ve had every piece in place since the moment you transitioned. The gate will open on Samhain. And you will be the one to open it for me. The bonds you share with them is already far too deep. When they die, you’ll be too weak to resist what comes next. There’s nothing you can do to stop it."
When her hand dropped from my face, I fled down the stairs.
I barely made it to my bedroom, barely saw them sitting up, agitated, like they’d been looking for me, barely heard Soren growl, "Where were you?", before I lurched for the bathroom and threw up all of my dinner.