The Usurper's Throne

27

Reid was trying to persuade me not to walk in the courtyard. Ironside had pulled into the circular drive and we were shielded from the courtyard by tall shrubs. Beyond the gate, alphas and the Wereking waited.

More importantly, Damien waited there.

"Reid, I am going in. Like this. Damien does not own me. He is my marked, but I am not his mate. He may die tomorrow, and I do not wish death on anyone. But I will not be caged by him."

He nodded and settled for tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "He will kill me," Reid joked. "Letting his marked attend a ball without makeup, a crown, or matching dress."

"If he is going to kill anyone, it will be me by night's end." I took a deep breath. "Reid, do you have children?"

Reid nodded slowly, confusion mapping his face.

"Then let me assure you that you will not die tonight." He must have believed my face because he gently grabbed my arm.

"Naomi, please, stay safe."

In lieu of a response, I shrugged off my cardigan. Reid's eyes went large when he saw my wings were fully open and exposed. Tonight, I was going to draw everyone attention. I shrugged them loose a bit, so they hung past my shoulders. I knew that in the bright patio lights of the courtyard, they would shine. I threw the cardigan across a bench. I wouldn't need that.

Unless it got cold, but I was really going for ruthless, and carrying a cardigan did not fit that image.

My dress was pure black covered with feathers running in different directions depending on where they were on the dress. Gold and black.

"I make no promises, Reid," I said. He sighed and took up post beside me. He would escort me.

I turned to the gate where two guards stood on either side. They had yet to catch sight of me. With my wings, I could only image that they would stare. My anger was beginning to fade as I considered what I was doing tonight. Surely it would go horribly.

I could hope.

With that, I stepped into their line of sight and they stared, confused at what they were seeing. I seized the opportunity to walk past them, chin high.

My scarred arms were on full display, along with my wings.

I only made it a few steps before my arm was seized by Damien.

"That was fast," I quipped. He whirled me to face him. He scanned my dress.

"Did they give you the wrong dress?" he asked quickly, glanced to his sides at the werewolves staring. "Do you have a sweatshirt? I do not want every unmated wolf sniffing you," he said, voice on the edge of anger.

I looked to see that Damien was decked out in the same deep purple that the dress was. I yanked my arm back. "That is mine," I said, referring to my arm. "And no, I received the correct dress. I chose another. The wings are mine, too. I will do with them as I please."

Damien blinked and finally met my eyes. "Dove?"

"Damien, I know your plans. You intend to kill the humans," I said.

He scoffed. "Is that what this is about? I do not intend to kill them," he said, grabbing my arm again to tug me somewhere private.

"Yes, you do. I saw it. Or did you forget that your girlfriend can read minds?"

He growled and pulled me off to the side, catching more than a few curious glances. Most people hadn't noticed me when I walked in. There went that plan.