Page 1 of Wolfkissed
PART I
WOLFBITTEN
CHAPTER ONE
ROSAMUND
There is an unusual commotion at the heart of the manor.
Della, my lady in attendance, glances up from her painstaking work of brushing out my dark hair, alarm written all over her thin features. “The men are back.”
“The hunting party is back.” Pursing my lips, I gesture for her to continue. My oval mirror shows my reflection, but I avoid it as much as I can, preferring to gaze down at the dark pleats of my long gown.
“Do you think they might have caught anything big?” Della asks, separating my hair into parts and grabbing the hairpins. “A boar, or a deer?”
“From the sounds of it,” I mutter, aware of the cheering and yelling echoing through the manor, “I’d say yes.”
“They were talking about going into forbidden territory.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Dark fae territory. Because the bounty there is more plentiful.”
“Men are idiots.” I instinctively lift a hand to make sure the stiff, high collar of my gown is buttoned up to my neck. There will be many people at the banquet today, and I don’t want anyone staring—well, no more than the usual amount.
“They said they’d go into the werewolf kingdom, up on the mountain slopes.”
“Good Gods above and below.” I do my best to suppress a shudder. “That’s beyond idiotic.”
Della sucks in a sharp breath. Her hands go still on my head. “Apologies, my lady. I hadn’t meant to remind?—”
I slice my hand through the air to silence her. “Never mind that. Better hurry up with my hair.”
Nodding, she twists up sections and lifts them to create an upswept hairdo, then pins gems and silk butterflies into it. It’s a new fashion among human aristocrats, I’m told, one I couldn’t care less about.
Which is as much as I care about this banquet.
“Do you think the Lord of Enjou will be here?” Della recovers quickly. “They say he’s very handsome. And unmarried as yet.”
She’s used to my abrupt mood changes, knowing the reason for them. Everyone does around here.
“I’m betrothed to someone already. I don’t need to look at unmarried, handsome lords.”
“Ah, but the heart rejoices at the sight of male beauty, doesn’t it?”
I cover up another sigh. Sometimes, even knowing all about me and my past won’t stop people from sending little stabby jabs my way. Not only because I’m not beautiful, not anymore, but also because she just reminded me that I’ll never get my own pick of a man to marry. My father—stepfather, that is—announced that he was giving my hand to Lord Orvyn Eorl.
That was many years ago, right after he married my mother, when I was too young to understand my fate. And after the attack, well… He was all too happy Lord Eorl didn’t annul the agreement. Because who in their right mind would want me now?
I should be grateful, I suppose. Niele, my stepfather’s wife, never misses a chance to remind me of that. I wish I could embrace the sentiment.
Even though Lord Eorl has pushed off the wedding quite a few times. I’m about to turn twenty-three, kind of old for getting married in this age and time, but I’m sure he has his reasons.
“Do you think the House of Fireflies will attend the banquet?” Della is still talking, I realize, and has already added a number of decorative pins to my hair. I frown at my reflection, then look away quickly.
“The noble fae will want to honor their promises,” I mutter. “They have been careful to keep good relations with us since the War of Justice.”
That was the war between humans and fae over four hundred years ago that toppled the fae sovereignty over this world and changed fae magic, either diminishing it until it became almost non-existent, or distorting it, resulting in the dark fae who roam the mountains close to the rim of the world… changing them in terrible ways, either forcing them to shift into animals, or trees and plants, or else giving them power over the dead and dark things.
“Yet, they are arrogant, my lady, always thinking they are better than the likes of us.” Della walks around me, hands on her hips, surveying her work. Then she grabs a jewelry box from the commode and opens it for me to choose. “I think the pearls, my lady. They complement your skin.”
“Because I’m pale like a wraith, you mean?” I ask wryly, picking the pearls she suggested.
