The Usurper's Throne

25

Understandably, Berry and Eric were not going to the ball tonight. I should have been thrilled that they had a happy, healthy baby.

But all I could feel was anger. I was angry at myself for not knowing that Berry was having her child. I was angry that Damien had played god with my life. I was pissed that Damien had manipulated me. And joy that I felt was being violently shoved out by anger.

As I paced our room, waiting for my dress to arrive, I wondered why I was playing this game. I had lost trust in Damien. I had no reason to believe that Elijah was lying to me when he said that Damien had been stealing the light elemental's magic. I had proof that he was stealing from me. I couldn't trust anything that I saw Damien to be.

That jerk. Why was he doing this? Why didn't he ask me?

The glimmers of behavior that I thought were stress-induced were actually cracks on the façade. He was possessive and obsessed and full of fury.

I clenched my fists as the fire in my veins flickered through my body. Oh, today I would rival his anger.

My hand leapt up to touch the mark on my neck. That, at least, I knew was real.

That jerk had stolen Elijah from me. He had pulled the Alpha's Claim so he could steal my magic and defeat the king. Elijah was my mate. Damien had stolen me away from him.

My blood was boiling. Pacing did little to calm me down—each step seemed to build the disgust I felt at my marked. Heck, I hadn't even marked him. He just marked me. Without my permission. How had I not seen the signs?

If he lost the challenge tomorrow, I would die. He had to win, but I did not want him anywhere near the throne. What was I going to do?

Finally, a knock came at the door. I jumped to open it and was surprised to see the woman who showed us to our rooms the first night step in. I had forgotten her name, but she looked familiar.

She lay a black bag with the dress on my bed. "Especially chosen by your mate," she said softly and curtsied, leaving the room. The Wereking had already lost the battle in their eyes. After Elijah abandoned the throne, everyone's attitude toward the usurper and his marked changed. Defiance turned into deference.

It was strange. I had gone the other way—deference to defiance.

I unzipped the dress and stared in shocked. It was a deep violet with beads sewn into the bodice. It was floor-length with a slit going up my thigh. I saw extra fabric intended to tie around my wings and create a purple lattice across the golden feathers. No doubt, Damien would be wearing something that matched. I had to admit; it was stunning. I cast my wonder aside. Focus on the anger.

I raced to the door and opened it to see the woman about to turn the corner. "Ma'am!" I called.

She turned.

"What's your name?"

She scurried over. Her entire demeanor made her look like a mouse. "Beatrice, ma'am." When I first saw her, I thought she was much older. Now, I saw that worry and exhaustion lined her face, not age.

"Beatrice," I said. "Beatrice, I need to ask a favor of you. Do you have any other dress?" I asked.

Her eyes went wide. "The Wer—usurper will not be pleased if he thinks I brought you the wrong dress."

I nodded. "He will know I received it."

She scanned me curiously. Finally, she curtsied. "I believe I have something you will like, Ele."

Elemental, I realized. Finally, everyone thinking my name was, "Ellie," made sense. They were acknowledging that they knew I was an Elemental. I guess most people knew.

She whirled on her heel, and I realized why she looked so familiar. It was not primarily because I had met her before. No. It was her exhaustion I recognized. It was her hopelessness. I remembered it because that was what I saw every day of my life before Damien took me away.

"Beatrice," I repeated. "Beatrice."

I would not forget her name.