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Chapter 5

Author: Vantae Swan
last update Last Updated: 2023-09-12 05:10:34

Feyre’s POV

They didn’t come for me until the next evening. At first, I thought it was the maid so I didn’t bother to stand up from my bed or even turn to look. She would drop the food on my table

“You need to come with me, Miss.”

A strange male voice I’d never heard before said and I startled, turning my head to see a guard waiting at the entrance of my door.

I sat up straight, heart flying to my mouth immediately. I was already dressed, albeit still in the outfit I’d worn upon my arrival. I’m sure I looked a sight in my rumpled outfit, but my bags hadn’t been brought up and I’d had to re-do the same dirty, rumpled dress after my shower this morning.

Despite my bedraggled appearance, I arranged my skirt around my legs and walked past the guard, staring straight ahead and keeping my chin high, doing my best to bolster my courage with a few breathing exercises and mantras.

I would not cry. I would not beg. I would accept whatever fate I was given with as much grace and maybe, I would find a way to escape later on. All I needed to do was get through this.

I hardly took note of where we were going, mind worrying about the verdict I was to receive. Worrying about a family and a pack that certainly wasn’t worried for me.

My every instinct screamed at me to run, each step seemingly leading me to my own execution.

We stopped suddenly in front of a rather unimpressive-looking door. I could hardly believe the King would be waiting in there.

Yet, the guard knocked sharply and pushed open the door after a response I couldn’t hear. He gestured for me to step inside and I hesitated before entering.

The door closed behind me with a soft click. It should not have surprised me to see Garrick, but it did. I was relieved it was not the King himself, but my anxiousness reappeared almost immediately.

It was completely empty inside but for Garrick standing at ease in the middle, with his hand clasped behind his back. Not even a picture hung on the wall, nor a window in sight.

I approached warily, stopping a few feet shy of him. Feeling the strange urge to curtsy at his calm, regal air, I hesitated, an awkward air hanging between us for a moment. “Good evening Miss Manning.” If I really was a Manning, I wouldn’t be here right now. I would be at home while my father fought to keep me the way he fought for my sister.

“It’s Feyre. Please.”

He nodded imperceptibly. “Feyre. There was a slight delay to the plans, as I’m sure you might have noticed. Forgive me for not informing you earlier.” His expression barely flickered as he spoke, like marble brought to life with magic.

“Your father arrived yesterday but without your sister in tow. King Xaden was… less than pleased. He agreed to hear your father’s new proposal only on the condition that your sister is present, seeing as he still reserves the right to reject any other offer Lord Manning might have. He refused your father an audience until your sister is brought, so we’ve had to wait several more hours for her to make the trip.”

Father has been here since yesterday? Had he even asked me? I was tempted to ask but I was not so naive as to willingly make a fool of myself.

“So… Phyna’s here?” I asked, licking my nerve-parched lips.

“Probably walking through the castle gates as we speak, so we don’t have a lot of time until we have to step in.” He frowned at a watch on his wrist before placing his hands back behind him.

“It would not be... wise to keep His Majesty waiting.” He gave me a pointed look “All things considered.”

What were we considering? The fact that I was once again the cause of all this trouble simply because I didn’t have a wolf to please the Lycan King with.

Couldn’t be an heir. Couldn’t be a mate. Couldn’t even be a whore. Laughter, mad and hysterical in texture and form, bubbled up my throat. I did my best to choke it down and it left a decidedly bitter taste in my mouth.

“Immediately you enter, you will go before him and curtsy and then stand off to the side facing your father. You will keep your head and eyes averted at all times. You will not speak until spoken to. You will make no arguments or excuses for yourself. Do you understand?”

I had no more nodded before he stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture at another door that had been hidden behind his bulk.

“No need to knock. Just open it.” He said as I went to the door. Raising a shaky hand, I turned the knob and stepped inside.

I immediately wished to go back.

This hearing, first of all, would not be a private one from all the people I was seeing gathered around. It wasn’t much, just a handful or two, mostly of the King’s own entourage.

Still, it was one too many and their eyes swiveled over to me in unison as I entered the throne room from what seemed to be the eastern door. My father stood directly across from me, his face hard, the hate in his eyes possibly fiercer than I’d ever seen them before. My steps faltered and I ducked my formerly high head down between my shoulders, dropping my gaze from the weight of his glare. It took Garrick’s hand prompting at my back to keep me placing one foot in front of the other.

Sitting on a magnificent throne, dressed in every bit of finery that announced his Kingly status, Xaden Whitewood looked bored and disgruntled. His one good eye flicked to me, his gaze coloring with disdain as he watched my approach. If I could sink into the floor, I would have. Instead, I kept my gaze low, walking till I was before his throne at the bottom of a short set of steps. I bowed then, low and deeply, holding the curtsy for several long seconds before straightening and going to stand across from my father like I had been told.

I did my best not to look at him even though I felt his glare boring holes into my skull.

It was completely silent in the room, despite the almost ten people already standing there. Despite the slight chill in the air, sweat dripped down the hollow of my back.

Just when the silence became unbearable, the main doors opened and two guards walked in, my sister trailing behind them. To my shock, Marissa and Alaric were with her. Marissa had her arms around her daughter and Alaric held his sister’s hand. My father snapped to attention once they were in, anxiousness coming off him in waves. When they were near enough, Phyna rushed into his open arms and he wrapped her in a half hug. The family unit took a moment to comfort and reassure themselves while I looked on, trying to will my eyes to stop burning.

“Peter Manning.” The King finally drawled. All eyes turned to him, fear and anticipation palpable throughout the entire room.

“You have some nerve. Sending me your wolfless vermin for a prize. Did you think to rid yourself of the stench of having such an offspring within the walls of my harem?”

“I─I… forgive me, my lord─”

“Silence!” Xaden thundered and father fell quiet at once.

“I called my men off your borders because you promised me a war prize worthy of a King if only I spared that vapid little town of yours from being wiped off the face of the map. Merciful as I am, I agreed to spare you in favor of a highly worthwhile gift, whose beauty rivaled no other.” His eyes turned mocking

“Imagine my disappointment when I get your… ill-formed daughter, instead of the she-wolf I desired.” He inclined his head, dark hair falling over his eyes.

“I tell you to bring me a replacement and you come with a… proposal, the girl I requested nowhere in sight. Tell me, do you wish to taste my ire so strongly that you have taken to open rebellion?”

“No, my lord. I beg your humblest apologies. I am but a father who wishes to protect his blood.”

Was I not his blood as well? Where was my protection?

“I care little for what you are Peter. Where is your other daughter?” He growled and Phyna jumped.

Slowly, she crept out from within my father’s reluctant grasp, standing shyly before the king. She didn’t look up the entire time he examined her, and after a few minutes, he grunted, his distaste apparent.

“Your proposal had better be good Peter. You have five minutes.”

Father sprung into action, picking a suitcase I hadn’t noticed by his side from the floor to the table and cracking it open to retrieve some documents.

“I have here, the deeds to half of the lands belonging to my pack, ready for transfer of ownership from my family to you. I am ready to pay the sum of one hundred thousand, all in the hope that you will forgive your servant’s transgressions and allow me to leave your home, with my daughter Phyna.”

“And your other daughter?” Xaden asked, sounding almost amused. I braced, wishing he’d avoided the subject of me altogether. My father’s face hardened.

“Do with her what you wish.”

I gasped, the first audible sound I had made since entering the throne room. Several eyes turned to me including that of the two men who were

Xaden shrugged. “Fortunately for her, I have no need for a wolfless whore. You may leave with her.”

He started to rise. I saw my father hesitate and then he glanced at me, his resolve hardening at whatever he saw. He turned back to the King.

“I know her state displeases you, my Lord. But I beg that you keep her here, if only to relieve me of the burden of her presence upon my household. There is no space for Feyre in my pack.”

The tears I’d been fighting all along finally rushed to my eyes.

“Father.” I gasped, pain, slurring my words. His glare was full of resentment. Xaden looked between us both, clearly amused then he waved his hand at Garrick.

“Take her to the harem then. She can serve with the other girls.” With that I was pulled away, the last glimpse of my father was one of him glaring at me with hate.

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Pansy kim
I wonder why some fathers are cruel to the extent of abandoning a child due to some unreasonable reason. I'm sure Freya is special, I can definitely tell...
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