Clara

After that uncomfortable confrontation with Drevakin, Rathorin is cooler toward me, though still polite. I try my best to keep an open mind, but it's hard. I try to be creative, look at him from a different perspective. Maybe it's just cultural differences that make him seem so harsh.

But that hope wavers as I observe his behavior toward the servants. During dinner one night, he asks a young maid to bring him something. I’ve been studying and speaking Alvan non-stop, learning as much as I can and I almost regret it, now understanding more of Rathorin’s cruelty.

"Yes, my Prince," she says, hurrying away to fulfill his request, happy to be of service.

When she arrives back, fast enough she's out of breath, he takes the goblet full of some beverage and takes a sip. The maid looks on nervously. When he scowls, I understand why.

"Is this what I asked for?" Rathorin asks, his voice severe. "I said cold! This is warm! Have you received absolutely no training?"

Judging by how young she looks, she probably hasn’t been here long. My stomach twist in sympathy as her rose-colored glasses are ripped away. Her face pales, her eyes widen, and she stands frozen in shock.

Come on. Pull yourself together, girl, I implore with my eyes.

I don't want to know what Rathorin will do if she doesn't. I cough, pulling her attention. Her eyes dart over and I give her an encouraging smile. Jerking my head to the door and hoping she gets the hint to go fix the drink. She blinks and snaps out of her stupor, turning back to Rathorin with a quick nod.

"Yes, my Prince. Of course! I will go chill it!"

He hands her the drink, waving her away. The man who’s supposed to be a leader is just an eye roll away from being a high-school mean girl instead.

"I am sorry you were here to see that," he says with a smile as he turns. My hand itches to smack it off his face. "It is so taxing to have incompetent servants."

I nod. If I open my mouth, I will say choice words. Words it wouldn't be wise to say while I'm living in the guy's house with no easy way out. This incident is bad enough, but if it were the only time I saw him behave badly, I might chalk it up to a fleeting bad mood. Not great, but not the norm.

Unfortunately, if it is due to an off mood, he seems to be in it a lot. Maybe all the time. One time he dressed the stable master down for not bringing him the best juntta in the stable. After that incident, he forced the cook to prepare the entire midday meal again because he didn’t think it was appropriately spiced. At least not to his standards.

I have to clamp down a very real desire to smash his arrogant face into one of the mushier dishes. It would be satisfying, but who knows what he would do to retaliate. So I keep my mouth shut. If I stay here long enough, I may have to wire my jaw closed if I don't want to say something less than complimentary.

With dinner over and nothing else pressing to do, I wander around the House Mansion. One of his people makes his way to Rathorin's study and waiting a beat, I follow, staying far enough behind to avoid notice as he steps in and greets Rathorin. I listen at the door, still hoping I might the man I’m matched to is actually good, though that hope is waning. He keeps showing me the same face over and over again. I piece together that they’re speaking about a trade deal with another House. I gather the visitor doesn't agree with Rathorin's outright refusal of the terms.

"Is this your House?" Rathorin’s voice carries through the door. "Are you the Prince? Perhaps I am mistaken."

The tension in the room is palpable even from outside as the other man is quiet for a moment. I hope this guy doesn't push it. Rathorin isn't the type to let things go.

"No," the other man concedes. "I am not the Prince."

"I am glad you realize that. Perhaps you should consider this before you come and try to tell me how to run my own House. I would not want to question your loyalty. That could lead to your household's lucrative holdings being forfeit, you understand. But I only do what is in House Ti'ana's best interest, and if I believe relieving you of your holdings would be, well, I will. I would do so, out of duty." Rathorin says. "Do you understand?"

There's a pregnant pause.

"Of course, my Prince." A chair scrapes back and I move down the hall so I can hide behind a corner. "How foolish of me."

The man takes his leave. I listen to the footsteps in the hall as he heads to the front door then make my way back to my own room. My stomach turns over, acid rising in my throat. How can I be with someone so arrogant and self-entitled? Someone with no regard for anyone else's health, safety, emotions, livelihood... the list just goes on.

He has no sense of morality or an ounce of empathy. At least, not that I've seen, and I've been looking. Hard.

It's not like I can avoid him, though. He asks me to eat with him, take walks with him, insists on taking me on tours of the wonders of House Ti'ana. He has also told me not to leave the House Mansion on my own. For my safety he insists.

And yes, it grates. I'm not a child.

I say nothing, trying not to rock the boat, feeling like I'm always walking on eggshells. After one such tour of one of the House Mansion's wings, he walks me back to my room. Which I've learned is right next to his. Wonderful.

"Did you enjoy our day together?" he murmurs, sliding the back of one hand down my cheek.

I resist the urge to step back. Truth is, he isn't bad company. He can hold a conversation and has a sharp mind. If only he didn't make my skin crawl.

"Yes, thank you," I say, forcing a smile.

I have to play the part for now. He smiles, his eyes skimming down to my lips. Oh no. I've been trying to avoid situations like this. Sure enough, he leans down, obviously intending to land on my lips. At the last moment, I turn my head so his lips meet my cheek instead. He pauses, then pulls back. It's clear he isn't happy about the rebuff.

"I cannot wait forever, my princess," he says, trying to be playful.

But it comes across as the warning I know he intends it to be.

"I like... learning of you," I say, hoping what I mean translates. I smile, stepping back to grab a hold of the doorknob. "Goodnight," I murmur.

His eyes narrow as I open the door and step back. I wonder for a moment if he will insist. He doesn't.

"Goodnight," he says, giving a shallow bow and stepping back from the door.

I close it, holding my breath as his footsteps fade down the hallway. I let it out again only when his door clicks shut. Shaking my head, I walk across the room to sit down at the small desk by the window, irritably gathering my dress under my butt as I lower myself onto the chair.

What I wouldn't give for a pair of pants. But Rathorin provided none, and he has made his opinion of the jeans I wore here obvious. I doubt he'd like it if I asked for a pair of the pants that some of the men wear.

Rubbing at my eyes, I try to focus on the book in front of me, trying to squeeze more vocabulary and sentence structure into my brain. It's what I've been doing to keep from going insane. I'm learning the language rapidly, testing it out everywhere I can. It gives me a modicum of independence as ridiculous as that sounds.

I sigh as I give up for the moment and lean back, rubbing at my eyes. What am I going to do? I can't see myself being with Rathorin. Hell, if anyone I knew was dating someone like him, I'd tell them to run fast and hard in the opposite direction, no looking back. I'd much rather be alone than have to suffer through more forced time with him.

Drevakin's face pops up in my mind's eye and immediately my clit tightens and throbs. The tight coil of desire winds up in my core. No, I can't think about him. I'm stuck here in this mess. It's stupid.

I shove thoughts of the other prince aside, but I can’t keep him out, imagining again the taste of his lips on mine. One hand slides under my dress, finding my wetness by touch. Soaking my fingers with my silkiness. Slowly, I stroke my opening as I move up towards my hard nub.

Desire overwhelms me. I want Drevakin. My body cries out for his touch. Spreading my delicate lips apart, I explore the folds with my fingers. Almost on accident I graze my clitoris.

I bite my lip to avoid crying out, Rathorin is just next door.

Working my way back, I make slow circles. Sliding two fingers into myself, I imagine it is Drevakin. The memory of him penetrating me, his fangs grazing my lips, the way he moved inside.

How did he do what he did? I move my fingers, trying to replicate it. It had felt so damn good. My senses recall the musky, man scent of him and I groan softly.

There! I find what he did, and a shudder runs through my entire body. Leaning back in the chair I spread my legs wide. Three fingers slide in and out of my pussy while I circle my clit with my thumb. It's close. His fingers were bigger, filling me more, but the sensations are close enough my imagination does the rest. What I wouldn't give to have his lips on my breasts.

My thumb on my clit circles faster. I drive my fingers in deep as I can, simulating what I'm imagining.

He'd lose control quickly. Like this. Yes, faster!

My nipples are hard, pressing against the silky cloth of the strap that serves as a bra. Still pushing in and out with my hand between my legs, my thumb and forefinger grasp and pull on my nipples, stretching them then giving a slight twist, simulating his suckling.

Pleasure grips me tightly. I bite my lower lip hard, unable to contain my moans of pleasure. Fingers drive in and out, my thumb teasing my clit just as my free hand teases my nipples. Tension builds. My core is so tight I'm going to explode. Driving three fingers to the hilt I circle my clit with my thumb then my orgasm grabs hold.

My back arches and I bite my lip hard enough to taste a hint of blood. It rips through my body with an intensity I've never experienced before.

My only thought is screaming his name as I come.

Drevakin.

Opening my eyes, I glance around the room. Keenly aware someone could walk in at any moment. I can't imagine being caught. If Rathorin were to catch me, there'd be no getting out of what he wants.

Standing, I right my dress with quick motions, covering myself before anyone can catch me in a compromising position.

That was stupid, but damn it was so good. What am I going to do?

Drevakin can't have me. He doesn't want me. Smart, since he's from a Minor House and Rathorin is the Prince of a Major House. The political implications of that are greater than I realized.

Knowing it doesn't lessen the sting of rejection, but this line of thought is unproductive. Drevakin is beside the point right now. I have to deal with the situation I'm stuck in. For all their fancy technology and testing, Celestial Mates may have made a mistake.

One I'm now paying for. Shit.

I let the ramifications of that flow through my mind. Can I go back to them? There's no way to contact Celestial Mates from here and Rathorin is always watching. I can’t make it out of the House without him finding out.

I laugh, but there isn't any humor in it. This is a full on, shit storm of a disaster. And I don't know how to get out of it.