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As I often do, I give myself a few minutes of fruitless mental raging over being born into royalty instead of normalcy. I need a drink so I get up from my desk and open a new bottle of Absinthe. I’m about to pout a water glass full but I just drink it straight from the bottle. I down it all and the familiar warmth appears. Drinking a whole fifth won’t make me feel any better. The buzz won’t even last longer. There’s something psychologically fulfilling about it, though. I put the bottle down and make my way back toward my desk.
I can’t get any work done, though.
Now, I need air.
I feel like I’m flailing about, just searching for one thing and then the next in order to get a moment of respite. I head up.
There are four stories to my home and then an attic with a spiraling tower about another story high. I climb to the top and stand in front of the floor to ceiling length window, breathing deeply of the alpine air and trying to get my mind to calm. There’s no hope of that. This window faces the outside of the estate. It’s risky but the need is too great. I strip and stand naked in the doorway for a moment. The house will obscure the sight of me unless someone knows to look for me. I don’t believe there’s any likelihood Brooke will see.
I leap from the window and shift in the air. Five seconds later, I’m over the abutting mountainside and in the valley beyond, letting the air currents soothe what the absinthe could not. I feel a measure of calm and peace settle over me. In dragon form a sense of timelessness settles over me, an understanding that feelings and even events are transitory and allowing myself to get worked up about them is an unwise choice to be unhappy without cause.
I fly faster than I ordinarily might because continued exertion is helpful when it comes to dealing with any kind of trepidation. I see a small flock of wild goats, feral and not indigenous. Some shepherds lost them decades ago. In any case, I need to resist the urge to snatch a few up for no other reason than the joy of the hunt. I don’t, though. A dragon consumes a great deal and it’s possible if I get started, I might eat every one of those goats. I have no desire to do that at the moment. I just want to fly.
Flying doesn’t help, though. Not really, anyway. I make it back to the tower and get dressed. It troubles me that time in dragon form doesn’t quiet my thoughts. I make my way down, though, and a pleasant surprise awaits me. Petyr, who always seems to know my comings and goings, meets me on the second-floor landing and says, “Miss Patterson arrived a short while ago and waits for you in the parlor.”
I am far more joyous going down that flight of stairs than I was going up and the troubles of my betrothal fade to the back of my mind. There is even a bit of spring to my step as I make my way through the house to the parlor. It occurs to me this is the first time she’s been in this room and that it must seem more like a grand ballroom to her than a parlor.
She sits on a chesterfield sofa. When I arrive, she pats next to her and says, “Have a seat.”
Sitting next to her is all that flying with Amelie is not.
And when she’s on her knees with me a few seconds later, there is far, far more than that.
ChapterTwelve
Desperation
Brooke
This feels strange, actually.
Not having Adrian’s cock in my mouth. That feels as wonderful and sexy as it always does. I never imagined I would reach a point in my life where giving a blowjob feels wonderful. I mean, I really enjoy it. There are times when it almost feels just as physically fulfilling to me as actual sex. I don’t mean that I have orgasms giving a blowjob but, to tell the truth, I won’t be shocked if I end up with one.
But I don’t.
He cums and it’s fine and blah blah blah blah fucking blah.
Yeah, it feels more than strange. I can’t think of a single time in my life that I give a blowjob because I need to reassure myself that the man I’m with really wants me. I think about what Courtney says to me about the Vipera family having old blood and about the marriages being arranged and political rather than emotional.
I guess I’m more willing and ready to accept that from an intellectual standpoint than I am from an emotional standpoint. I suppose that’s the situation. Hell, I don’t know. What I do know is that I just sucked a man’s dick in order to prove to him and to myself that I’m worthy of his love. This is the first time in my life I’ve ever done anything like that and I feel sick about it.
I don’t really do a good job of hiding how I feel. I mean, I don’t talk about it but I leap to my feet suddenly and say, “Damn. I forgot I had to get something done.” Then, I just rush from his parlor, grateful that I never got undressed for this. I rush down the hallway, into the foyer, and out the front door. I see a bunch of people so I turn to my left because I need to run. I need to cry, and I need to get the hell away. I don’t want anyone to see it, of course.
I’m not so naïve that I might believe nobody here at the estate knows I’m having an affair with Adrian. I think, though, it’s much more likely that people just suspect it. Of course, I mean everyone other than Courtney. She knows. She also spends more time with me than anyone else, Aiden included.
Anyway, I make it to the tree line and break into a run. The tears come and I keep running. I run right up to the outside wall and stop there, crumpling to my knees and crying like a baby. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Aiden and I’m always going to be the other woman. I’m in love with a man I thought was a prince who would make me his princess. Instead, I’ll always be the peasant girl the prince fucks when he’s in the mood.
You know what hurts most of all?Always be.
I willalways bethe other woman.
I willalways bethe peasant girl the prince fucks when he is in the mood.
Do you know why those words are important? They’re true. I will always be those things because despite the way I feel and the terrible nature of the feelings, I know for a fact that I won’t end things with Aiden. I won’t end things and I won’t do anything to rock the boat. I will always be second to Amelie because I won’t remove myself from the situation.
This is my fate.
I almost laugh as it occurs to me that I’m his fated second girl, his true second mate, whatever the fuck all that means. Of course, I don’t laugh. I just cry more.
