66: A Normal Human, Not

Quincy St. Martin

“It is expected of us, Your Highness. It’s your duty.”

Lady Celeste’s voice sounds half pleading.

“Your mother expects us to be mated before we go back, and they expect us to be back soon. You have to do this for our kind.”

“I don’t have to do anything. In case I haven’t been clear enough all these years, Celeste, listen to this, and listen well. I will never make you my mate. Now get out!”

His voice is loud enough that I’m sure that every werewolf and lycan in the vicinity can hear.

“Why do you hate me so? Am I not beautiful enough for you?” she asks him.

“Is it that new woman downstairs? You had your fun with her, but now it’s time to get rid of her like you did others. She’s nothing but a lowly commoner—”

“Enough!” Caspian snarls. “Watch what you say about her.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to anger you, but I’m just reminding you of your obligation as the crown prince—”

“Again, you’re forgetting your place. I don’t need a reminder from you!”

“Please, Prince Caspian, give me a chance. Just mark me. Keep her if that pleases you. Keep any woman you want. I know kings and noblemen keep mistresses. I promise I won’t complain. I’ll be a good queen. I’ll bear you an heir. I’ll do anything. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“I do not want your sacrifice,” he yells. “Why are you still here? Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that I don’t want you? Why are you willing to be my mother’s little puppet? Why don’t you do what you want for once in your life? Why can’t you stop being a thorn in my side? Why?”

“Because I love you!” she yells back.

Silence. The whole house is now silent.

I can sense Caspian’s shock and momentary bewilderment. I think Celeste is stunned by her own outburst.

A full minute goes by before I hear her sobs.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, but you never gave me a chance. I did everything I could to get your attention, but you treat me like chewed-up gum under your shoe. Am I that ugly to you? What can I do to make you love me?”

It takes a while before I hear my mate’s quiet response.

“No, you’re not ugly, Celeste.” His voice sounds almost gentle, his feelings closed off to me.

“I’m sorry you’ve wasted decades of your life trying to do what’s expected of you, but this is not what you really want. I know for sure that you don’t love me. If you truly did, you would have sensed that I’m already mated. She’s my erasthai, and she bears my mark. You know what that means.”

“Nooo,” she wails. “I know what I want, and I do so love you! I do!”

Her cries sound heartbreaking. Now, I feel sorry for her. I know I’d be devastated if Caspian didn’t love me and marked someone else. I think I’d die of a broken heart.

Soon, the wailing becomes louder. It sounds quite ugly, and I feel embarrassed for her. As suddenly as the wailing starts, it stops.

She sniffles before she says something again, but this time her voice sounds steely and determined.

“Queen Sophia won’t like this,” she warns. “I’m supposed to be your mate. Me! I’ll tell Queen Sophia, and she will get rid of ~her~. It’s my place. I was born to be your queen.”

The warmth in my chest suddenly turns into a blazing fury, engulfing my very soul. The flame is so fierce it’s burning all reason and logic.

I clutch my chest as my vision turns pinkish. Instinctively, I know that the fury isn’t mine.

The scorching heat in my chest is so overwhelming that my feet give way. Vaguely, I hear footsteps running up the stairs behind me.

Two big hands grab me by my upper arms and yank me up before I tumble down the stairs. Lazarus! Everybody else is standing behind him.

A loud furious roar from the bedroom propels him to hurriedly haul me up a few more steps with him. The others are following behind us.

We are greeted by the sight of my mate with his hand around Lady Celeste’s throat at the foot of the bed.

“Caspian, stop!” warns Lazarus.

Caspian raises his black soulless eyes to us. They’re shiny like polished onyx. Black veins are decorating his otherwise flawless skin.

“She’s a threat to my mate,” he hisses menacingly and raises Lady Celeste’s writhing body higher. “She must die.”

“Quincy, stop him,” says Constantine from somewhere behind me. Why?

I stand back to watch. Her kicking and twisting feet are off the ground. Her long nails are clawing frantically at his hand around her throat.

Her eyes are turning black, and her stricken face is purplish-red. A funny gurgling sound is coming from her mouth.

“Caspian!” yells Lazarus again. “You have to stop.”

In answer, my mate makes a snarling sound. His upper lip lifts to show sharp white canines.

It’s a cross between a furious snarl and a menacing grin of a naughty child.

I know his eyes are on me when the sharp sound of cracking bones reverberates through the spacious bedroom. He snaps her neck like a twig. Her body goes limp.

“He’s not listening to us, and we don’t want to fight him. Quincy, only you can stop him,” says Constantine as we watch Caspian bury his fingers into her back.

Blood blossoms in the fabric of her white dress to slowly drip down her legs. I find it fascinating.

“Please stop him.”

“Why should I?” I ask Constantine defiantly. My mate’s anger is seeping in through our bond, and now his fury feels like my own. Now I want her dead.

“Quincy, believe me. You don’t want him to kill her,” says Lazarus. “This could result in a bloodbath. Stop him. Please.”

He’s digging his fingers in deep, ready to pull her vertebrae out. The only way to kill a lycan—severing their spine from their body.

I sigh and reluctantly say, “My prince, please stop.”

He raises his eyes to me in question. He’s pleased that I call him ‘my prince,’ but there’s not enough conviction in my voice telling him that I ~really~ want him to stop.

“Don’t do it, Caspian. You have to stop,” I tell him in a more forceful voice.

I sense his disappointment. He is still very angry that the woman threatened to get rid of me.

He’s eager to destroy her more than a little kid dying to unwrap a gift on a Christmas morning. His dark eyes stay on mine as he casually tosses her motionless body like a ragdoll at my feet. Like an offering. A gift for me to do as I please.

I must be sick for finding the gesture sweet and him so hot at this very moment. He is very strong. So much stronger than I am.

I admire his control over his raging lycan. I love that he’s willing to kill at the mere suggestion of a threat against my safety.