Underworld

AURELIA

Her eyes, a vibrant shade of blue, fluttered open. Her lower lip trembled, her body following suit.

A large, familiar hand brushed her arm, causing her to flinch and retreat to the other side of the bed.

She curled up, her head buried in her lap, shaking. His presence was palpable. His heartbeat echoed in her ears, quickening in pace. She could sense the mix of anger and guilt that sparked within him.

She dared a glance at him, her eyes barely meeting his before she quickly looked away. Keeping up the act wasn't just a performance around him, it was a constant endeavor.

It wasn't just an external facade, but an internal one as well.

He could sense her emotions, to a certain degree. Their connection made the deception more challenging, but if successful, it would be all the more convincing. He wouldn't see it coming.

For the ruse to work, she had to feel the emotions she needed to portray. Ella had been a great help in that regard. She had cast spells that projected false emotions, a veil deeply rooted in Aurelia's heart.

This veil concealed her true feelings and projected more desirable ones.

“Little wolf,” he said, his voice resonating within her. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she curled up even tighter.

“You're safe now. You're not there anymore.” She whimpered again in response. She knew what he was thinking, and she knew how to play him.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice calm yet firm, his agitation growing.

She looked up at him instantly. She would play the part of the frightened, obedient girl. It was a fitting role, given her situation.

Tears streamed from her striking sapphire eyes. The sight before her was the worst nightmare anyone could ever have. And she was determined to make him feel what she was feeling.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice laced with frustration.

Maybe it was because she had clung to him last night as if he were her only hope, the only man who could protect her. Maybe he liked that.

But she had to keep up the act. She had to make it real. She had to manipulate him.

She had played the game wrong before. She had acted the way she thought he wanted. She had tried to be obedient, tried to do what he wanted.

But there was no manipulation in that. The only time she had made any difference was when she had kissed him voluntarily.

This time, she acted the way he truly wanted. She acted as if she needed him, as if she wanted his help. And then she would take it away.

His question only made her cry harder. He tried to move closer, but she flinched again. Her breaths were short and shallow.

“Come here,” he ordered. Despite her trembling and silent sobs, she obeyed. She crawled across the bed to him, squeezing her eyes shut, pretending to be afraid of him.

“Open your eyes.” She did as he commanded. “Kiss me.”

She hesitated, her eyes darting away from his, but she slowly moved her lips closer to his. Obedience was key, and there was no command that could humiliate her more than she already was.

Her innocence had been taken. Not by force, but it was gone nonetheless. Her lips were no longer innocent either. Whatever he asked her to do, she would do it, but not in the way he wanted.

He didn't want this version of her. They both knew that, even though she was following his orders without question.

Alastair wanted to tear his hair out at the sight before him. Why was she acting like this? Why was she crying at the sight of him?

He grabbed her waist, lifted her up without a second thought, and sat her on his lap, straddling him. Her eyes widened with fear and her tears fell onto him like rain.

He growled in response.

Last night, she had been all over him. He had loved every minute of it. He had loved that she wanted to be close to him, that there was no ulterior motive.

He had loved that he didn't have to be paranoid around her because he knew she wouldn't do anything but need him.

Now, he still didn't need to be paranoid, but she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

The purpose of the punishment was to make her fear the punishment, to make her fear what he could do. Instead, she now feared him.

She moved forward again, hesitantly, ready to kiss him as he had ordered. But he pushed her back and held her in place.

She squirmed as if his touch was burning her, as if he was made of fire.

“Stay still,” he growled.

She stopped instantly. More tears flowed. He grumbled one last time before throwing her onto the bed beside him and storming out, locking the door to his chambers behind him.

Once again, a furious king stomped down the halls of his castle, a deadly look on his face.

This time, he wasn't trying to cool off. He needed advice. And to get advice, he would go to the one person he had ever trusted. His mother.

“Alastair?” she gasped, taking in the sight of her son. Horror was etched on her face. Her heart broke at what she thought had happened.

“I'm just here for a visit, Mother. I didn't die. I can't. Remember?” he said, reaching out to her.

In the depths of the underworld, he found his mother.

He had only been there once before. A visit was said to be impossible, yet his father had found a way to take him. Now he could go alone, as if a part of him belonged there.

Since his first visit to the underworld, the beast within him had emerged. He had a special ability, unique to werewolves, which was why he was the most powerful.

He hadn't been back since the first time, when he had traded his soul for immortality, just as his father had always wanted. This place only brought emptiness to his life. His eternal life.

But he was here now, for his little mate.

“Oh, yes, I remember.” His mother was more paranoid than he was, having lived in constant fear when she was alive and at court.

“Why are you visiting me, my boy? You shouldn't be in a place like this. It takes a toll on you.”

“I know. But I have a problem that only you can help me with. I don't trust anyone else. It's about my mate.”

“Mate?!” she squealed, sounding like a thirteen-year-old girl receiving a new dress. “Oh my. What is she like?”

“What’s she like?” He found it hard to answer that question.

What was she like, really?

He knew she was always careful with her words around him, trying not to trigger his quick temper.

He knew she had been impulsive at first, but soon learned that patience was the only way to survive. She had changed to survive. Who knew what she was truly like, unfiltered.

“I see. I suppose that’s one of the problems you’ve come to me to solve,” she said, her voice icy. “Your mate won’t submit to you so easily and you’re frustrated and angry. Just like your father.”

“Mother—”

“I had hoped to raise you differently. I hoped that I could temper your father’s influence. But I guess time hasn’t been kind to you. Immortality isn’t a gift, my child. It’s a curse.”

“You’re right. It is—” His mother cut him off again.

“But it was a curse. You’ve been given a gift. A mate.

“Someone you could trust. Someone you could seek advice from that isn’t your dead mother. Someone you could share everything with.

“You’re not alone, and yet I suppose you treat her as your burden, a girl to bear your heir,” his mother said, her voice harsh.

But she wasn’t wrong. And Alastair couldn’t argue with her. His mother knew him too well. Or maybe, she just knew his father.

He had become just like him, only more ruthless in his rule. Maybe even in the way he treated his mate.

He had ignored Aurelia since she arrived; he had punished her countless times and she had received no reward for her fleeting obedience.

He had thrown her into the eternal dungeons, dungeons he himself might not survive if he spent more than a week there.

“I wanted her to listen to me. I wanted her to understand what I could do and the consequences of her actions.

“She was deliberately provoking me. So I put her in my dungeons. Now... it’s not the consequences she fears, as I intended, but me,” he explained.

“You don’t want her to fear you? I would have thought that would be a good outcome for you?” she scoffed. “Your father certainly liked it that way.”

“You weren’t scared of him. Don’t pretend you were. You were scared of what he would do if you or I stepped out of line.

“The girl flinches at any movement. She trembles in my presence. Tears flood her face as if she’s drained an entire lake. I... am not sure how to fix that.”

“Nor am I,” she replied with a sigh.

“You’re right; I never behaved like your mate is now. He never terrified me enough to do so. I’ve heard stories of your dungeons from others down here.

“They say that they drive you to madness. Your silver cells would have done what you wanted without the intensity of the fear.”

“You haven’t met the girl. Any normal girl would have fallen in line by now. She hasn’t. I already put her in the silver cells. I put her sister in there. I threatened her and her sister.

“And she wasn’t even fazed by them. She’s young. She has a strong will for a twenty-year-old.”

“Twenty years? My, and she outlasted your cells. A stronger measure was never the wise thing to do. Now I fear you’ve broken her, such a fragile thing.

“Her youth gave her foolish confidence, but it shouldn’t have been mistaken as you have. She’s not as strong as you believed her to be. Putting her back together will be a hard task.

“You need to decide what you want.”

“I don’t know what that is,” her son argued.

“Of course you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here and you would simply accept her terrified obedience. You want her to act a certain way. What way is that?”

“I want... her to care about me. Genuinely.

“I want her to hope for my safe return if I go off to battle. I want her to stay awake worrying for me if I don’t return to our bed. I want her to take care of me without any ulterior motive.

“But I don’t want to change for her. I am the man that I am, and no woman is going to make me soft. She may be mine, but I don’t belong to her. I want her to want that.”

His mother looked at her son, seeing a man rather than the boy she had known.

He must have been a man for hundreds of years. He must have survived all sorts of trials that shaped him into this man. He was right not to change for anyone, not even his mate. He shouldn’t have to.

She should accept him for who he was.

But what he asked was a monumental task, one she wasn’t sure this man in front of her could ever accomplish.

“My child, the only way to get what you want... is to make her feel like she’s worth something to you, which she clearly is.

“She doesn’t fear you—she doesn’t trust you. She withstood the trial of your silver cells. She endured that. But by putting her in those dungeons, she believes you want to harm her.

“She believes you want her dead, or worse. She doesn’t trust you, as you don’t trust her. It won’t be easy, but if you want what you desire, that’s what you must do.”

And that was exactly what Aurelia wanted him to do, too.