Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,63

act like you’re so high and mighty. If you were able to lie, you’d do it all the time.”

His expression darkens, eyes flashing with rage. “I haven’t tried to deceive you once since we made our bargain. I’ve respected our arrangement. But have you done the same for me?”

My chest heaves, and I curl my fingers into fists. “What do you think I’ve been doing all week, if not respecting our bargain? Do you think I went through the tedious process of redecorating your manor because it’s fun? Do you think I relish the thought of having to interact with Imogen Coleman at a saintsforsaken dinner party? No! I do it because it’s necessary for our plan to work. I could very easily put far less effort into our arrangement and still fulfill my end of our bargain. But, no, I created a solid plan because I want this to work.”

He shakes his head, a snarl curling his lips. “That’s so human of you to evade my question and make yourself seem honorable instead.”

“I’m telling the truth. I don’t want you to die.”

He goes still, silent, gaze boring into me for several tense moments. Then, finally, his voice comes out cold and quiet. “Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you wouldn’t take my money if I died.”

I hold his gaze but can’t find my voice.

“You can’t say a thing because you know I’m right.”

Yes, he’s right. He’s so right that I hate myself for it and hate him even more for confronting me about it. He has no right to make me feel this way! I’m certain that if our roles were reversed, he’d do the same thing. Worse, even. There’s no doubt in my mind that he would betray me simply for the sake of his vindictive pleasure alone. All because I’m human. A disgusting creature in his eyes.

I take a step closer, rage dripping from my tongue. “You know what? You and Imogen deserve each other.” Then, turning on my heel I storm from the room, blinking away angry tears with every step.

22

I spend much of my time the following week alone in my room. With the majority of the remaining work on the manor well under Foxglove’s control, my presence is not as vital to operations as it was before. More than that, I’m avoiding Elliot. I still can’t shake our conversation, with equal parts rage and guilt taking up residence in my heart. Just when I started to think the wolf king was a decent creature, he ruined everything.

Or did I ruin everything?

The day of the dinner arrives, sending my nerves into a roiling mess. All duties of preparation must be overseen by me, so I can no longer hide out in my room. Our meager event staff arrives, and I walk them through their tasks. Bertha begins her work in the kitchen, grateful for the extra assistance I’ve hired for her today. I remind the manor’s residents to remain on their best behavior, which includes general hygiene and politeness. Most will make themselves scarce when our guests arrive and will be rewarded by a hearty dinner of their own in the kitchens.

The thought of guests fills me with dread. I already know I’ll be forced to endure Imogen’s company. We’ve corresponded a few times since I sent the invitation, with me planting all the right seeds to bloom unwittingly inside her. Her last letter assured me she’s selected the most important families in town for Mr. Rochester to get acquainted with, which I know is code for the families in town who pose the littlest threat to her marital schemes.

Which might also translate to people in town I desperately dislike.

With the latter in mind and all preparations underway, I get dressed for dinner, attending to my own clothing and hair. I haven’t gathered the nerve to return to Father’s townhouse to fetch any of my belongings, so I’ve continued to rotate through the dresses in the wardrobe. Today I choose one in a sage color, the design similar to the others with its simple, unadorned style and plunging neckline and back. I’ve grown used to the soft material and layered skirts, almost regretting that I never had Amelie make me any new dresses while she was fitting the king.

Ugh, the king. That infernal wolf-man.

My stomach churns with the knowledge that I must see him tonight. See him, sit at the same table as him, and scheme with him. There’s