The Cursed Kingdom

THIRTY-EIGHT

~ PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ~

I poked at my barely eaten chicken, listening to the sound of my metal fork scraping against the China glass as I pushed it around and watching the white meat leave behind a brown smear from its rosemary infused seasoning.

The high-pitched, teeth-grinding noise seemed to reverberate throughout the dining room, bouncing off the glass ceiling that revealed a bright blue sky as well as the plethora platters in front of us that held more varieties of meats on them than I thought there were animals that inhabited the mountains. Everyday, the amount of food seemed to slowly increase and I knew it was Henrik's way of trying to make amends with me alongside the new pieces of jewelry that appeared every morning on my bedside table, his section of the bed long since turned cold because he understood I needed space.

Perhaps if I was Lycan or possessed some amount of their animal instincts, I would've at least considered the gestures sweet. Instead, every time I held the diamonds between my fingertips or ate the freshly killed meat, I just felt numb. Yes, his gifts were beautiful and probably worth an entire continent and his increased hunting filled my stomach until it hurt. But my heart was left feeling hollow and like all the nerves in the organ no longer knew how to work, scared if it felt anything other than anger or sadness that the agony it felt the next time would surely damage it beyond repair.

"Raena, please eat," Henrik begged from beside me, his own plate hardly touched since he'd been watching me almost the entire hour we were together. I ignored him, choosing at that moment to drop my fork and reach for my glass of water, and he sighed, an action that had slowly seemed to become his new habit. "I've apologized for my behavior numerous times. I don't know what else to do."

I forced the burning cold water down my throat, his words sparking the memories of the two nights I had spent alone after our fight and how I'd become more of an inconsolable wreck full of worry and sorrow every minute that passed. After twenty-four hours went by in a torturous blur and Henrik still hadn't shown a sign of returning, I'd gone crying to Evander, explaining vaguely what had happened and ordering him to find his cousin and bring him home, even if he had to drag him by the tail.

From a window in the hallway the next morning, I'd watched the two relatives emerge from the woods behind the gardens, both covered in dirt and completely unharmed except for a single scratch across Evander's chest, something I just knew in my soul was Henrik's doing.

Rage filled me as I watched my mate, his beard noticeably longer and only in the pair of underwear that I'd made Evander take with him, saunter up to the house as if it was a typical weekday morning. It wasn't that I hoped he was physically hurt or in so much despair that it would be noticeable from three floors above. I just felt stupid for caring about him so much, for wasting two nights worrying instead of sleeping, when clearly he had no trouble forgetting about me and not caring to make sure I was okay.

A full hour had passed when a fully dressed and clean Henrik entered the library, where I was avoiding him with a large book that was about a topic I didn't care to remember when I was done with it. I was as stiff as a stone when he dropped onto his knees in front of my seated form, apologizing over and over again and telling me how wrong he'd been to let his temper get to him. When I didn't answer, he rushed to explain how he had spent time with his family to get his emotions off his chest and had lost track of time, which he was very apologetic for as well—or so he said. Henrik filled me in on how he'd played with Mercedes and Meredith and hunted with Alarik and his parents. I remained silent, staring at the pages of my book with a clenched jaw and feeling like I would burst into tears if I looked anywhere else.

Ten minutes of his blabbering passed before Henrik realized I was never going to respond.

Five minutes of quiet later, he finally left.