Donovan didn’t react to the alarm in her voice, nor was he offended by it. Instead, he reached out with a surprising warmth, gently patting her head in a way that left Esme bewildered.
His touch was soft, almost affectionate, and when he leaned in close till she could feel his breath against her earlobe, his words were even softer, and it was laced with an undeniable sincerity.
"What I want is for you to recover," he murmured, his words gentle but filled with meaning. "When you’re ready, I need you to tell me how you want to deal with those who have wronged you. You name it, and it will be done, exactly as you wish."
He straightened up. "Plus, a mate is supposed to stay with their mate. I know you don’t want to be here, it’s only natural since you view our kind as ’different’. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but give it a few days is all I ask. Recover your strength, and when you’re finally capable of making a successful journey with your brother, then you can leave."
Donovan’s tone suddenly shifted as he added. "But I won’t let you return to that mad house disguised as a palace." The finality in his voice was unmistakable.
Esme blinked in bewilderment as she had her eyes on him, utterly baffled as she struggled to process what she just heard. Was it disbelief? Or perhaps the shock that a demon was willing to go with her wishes. If he was going to let her go eventually like he said, then why did he go through the trouble to bring her here? What was the purpose of his appearance at the palace?
"I’m going downstairs to meet Althea," Finnian said, snapping Esme out of her spiraling thoughts. She had forgotten for a moment that he was still here. She wanted to tell him to stay back, to be wary of his environment since they were strangers here, but he was gone before she could voice her concern.
And Althea? Who in the goddess’s name is that?
The dull headache that had been lurking at the edge of her consciousness since she woke up had begun to intensify, no longer so easy to be ignored.
"I think you should sit down," Donovan said purely out of concern, but his words of comfort only seemed to get on her nerves, causing her to bristle in reaction.
"Don’t pretend like you truly care about me," she finally snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. "You don’t know me well enough to care about me or Finnian for that matter. You keep saying I can leave, that I’m free to walk away right now if I wanted to, right? If it’s that simple then why did you come to the wedding at all? Why take me away?"
Her voice wavered, the confusion slipping through. "I don’t know who or what to believe in anymore, and you can’t blame me for holding such suspicions against you. So stop playing antics with me if that’s what you’re doing and be honest about your intentions."
She turned away from him when her emotions threatened to unravel, and it dawned on her that she was at the brink of shedding tears. Crossing the room, she sank onto the edge of the oversized bed, gripping the soft fabric beneath her hand as if it would anchor her in the storm of her own thoughts.
Every kind word she had ever heard felt hollow now, twisted into lies. She could no longer trust in anyone’s goodness, for their words had broken her too many times.
Esme struggled to contain her tears, and she did when Donovan suddenly loomed before her like a protective shadow. He pulled a chair over with ease and took his seat, not saying anything for a few seconds. It felt as though he was giving her time to gather her thoughts, to compose herself, and she did.
When he finally spoke, his words were firm and unyielding. "You’re getting the wrong idea of me, and I can understand why, but I didn’t come there to take you away so I could hold you captive, I came because I felt your pain, Esme. I felt your desperation, and all that was thanks to the pendant I gave you. You’re wearing it right now, aren’t you?" He didn’t need her to answer that since he already knew the truth for himself.
"That pendant was something I forged with a piece of myself," his words dripped with a subtle significance. "You can say it holds part of my very essence. When your tears touched the pendant, I knew at that time that I needed to get you out of there. Your tears called out to me, and I came."
Esme could see his jaw clench, the tension visible in the subtle twitch of his muscle. "I wanted nothing more than to kill that wretched king after what he put you through," he admitted, his voice low and even.
"But I knew getting you out of there was far more important than my own rage. I didn’t bring you here to ensnare you at all. If I had wanted to keep you by my side using force, then I would have easily done that the first time we met. But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t do it now either."
His voice dripped with sincerity as he continued. "It’s fine if you have no intention of staying here. All I’m asking for is for now, you should stay here. When you’ve found a place you wish to settle in with your brother, then you can leave. This isn’t an order but a request. You’re my mate, Esme, not my slave."
Esme’s eyes widened after listening to his side of the story. So he hadn’t shown up to take her away, but had shown up to save her cause he sensed she wasn’t happy?
It sounded way too far-fetched, but a part of her believed him anyway.
He then rose to his feet, attempting to make his exit. "You must be hungry. You’re unnaturally thin, and that’s not good for your health. I’m starting to wonder if royals have a thing for marrying women in stick form, but I need my mate healthy. I’ll give you some time to yourself, come down when you’re ready. If you’re not, I’ll send Finnian to bring your meal to you."
With that, he took his leave. Esme made her way towards the door and peeked out just in time to see he had stopped in front of Finnian.
"Can I keep your pet raven, Alpha Van Dan?" Finnian asked suddenly, his eyes glinting playfully as Kangee perched on his shoulder. "I’ve never seen a talking raven before, and it says a lot of strange things." He laughed softly, trying to rub Kangee on the belly, but the raven squawked sharply, clearly unimpressed by the gesture.
Donovan crouched down to Finnian’s height, and he patted his other shoulder. "I can’t give you Kangee, but you can borrow it from time to time. Kangee doesn’t blend well with many people, just so you know, so consider yourself lucky." He then gave Kangee a pat on the head.
Esme stood silently, watching the easy rapport between them unfold. It struck her how effortlessly Finnian had warmed up to Donovan, a demon who should have been nothing more than a stranger. Normally, Finnian was cautious – reserved, and even around those outside his circle, but here, he seemed at ease. No pretense, no forced sense of duty. In Donovan’s presence, it seemed Finnian was able to be his true self, without the weight of the noble facade bringing him down.
Her gaze shifted to Kangee who was glaring her way, and it startled her as she hadn’t expected it. She did lock the bird in a cage and made it starve till Donovan showed up. She had a feeling that the bird would never forgive her for what she did to it.
Suddenly realizing she was supposed to feel restrained in her wedding gown, Esme glanced at her outfit, instantly becoming conscious of how free she felt in it. To her surprise, she was wearing a free, soft lavender gown that was crafted from the most delicate silk, and it shimmered each time the glow of the flames from the fireplace reached it.
Who changed her clothes??