Shattered - Completed

19 - Pampered Indeed

Gavin

Vixen has a name, but I don't use it. The black wolf is watching me and I don't want him to know everything. His golden eyes glow with intense watchfulness. I'm hiding her from him because she doesn't want to be found. It's not fair. He's too good at uncovering all my secrets.

The wolf walks past me, his warm body sidling next to me, warming me from head to toe. He settles on the shaggy rug in front of the fireplace, as docile as a lap-pet. I'm not fooled, but my attention is caught by Vixen. She sits on a small, ancient-looking settee covered in a dark red velveteen cushion.

I walk over and sit down next to her. Her back is ramrod straight, once again, her hands folded in her lap. Her ankles are crossed demurely. I try to mimic her perfect posture, but my bones melt into the soft sofa. I can't sit up. I turn my head in my attempt to right myself and get a whiff of the couch. It smells like Gavin.

I give up and slump on the sofa and go back to admiring Vixen. She wears her pain with strict pride and a straight back while I wore mine with hunched shoulders and hidden eyes. She is a strong female.

Vixen and I watch the show. Viper is on tv again. The Black royal family is on the balcony as the bells toll for the Autumn Equinox. The square below is festive and beautiful, strung with warm yellow globe lights and flower arrangements in splashes of orange, red, and purple.

Viper waves madly at the crowd below. Her smile stretches obscenely wide. Every pore of her body oozes smug satisfaction. Behind her, the King scowls. His gaze is fixed on the Queen, is mate. The Queen is just as ramrod straight as Vixen is. Her discomfort and disapproval are apparent in every line of her body. Viper continues to wave to the crowd as many of them grumble and leave. The scattering of applause dies down as the King and Queen lock arms and leave the balcony.

I look for Hilaria, Gavin, Salvatore, or even myself, but there is no one else left on the balcony but the Viper and Gavin's younger brother, the new Crown Prince, Graeson.

Graeson is looking at us. No... he is looking at her. At Vixen. Staring right through the flatscreen at his truemate. The picture changes. The tv screen fills with just Graeson's face as he comes closer. It looks as if at any moment he could step through the screen and touch us.

I inhale sharply, fearful, as Vixen stands as if in a trance. Crystal-clear tears trail down her cheeks. Her lower lips trembles. She's terribly pretty when she cries. Another difference between us. Tivo used to tell me I looked like a pathetic, blubbery rat when I cried. I only cried twice in front of him. Once when my mother died. The other was when he rejected me for the first time.

My body rumbles under me as if there's an earthquake. I smell ash and feel the heat of flames...

Vixen's hand reaches out toward her mate. I try to stand, but my body is still boneless. The warm sofa under me moves again. I topple to one side as the great black wolf stands and shakes out his fur. Padding over silently to the tv, one massive paw reaches out and casually shoves the flatscreen to the stone floor.

It shatters into pieces.

I take my fingers away from my sleeping princess's cheek. CeCe mumbles incoherently in her sleep, tossing her nude, delectable body onto her back, her limbs flung every which way. The pout of her lips is utterly sexy as fuck. She looks ready to beg me to come back to bed with that mouth. It's an expression I've never seen her make while she's conscious. My wolf growls, begging us to crawl back into the bed and taste the perfection offered to us.

I push him back. Our mate is tired. Now that I know that her dreams are actually the Sight, I've made it a habit to listen in. The bond between us is growing stronger, so I can feel her slip away from me when the Sight takes over.