Thirty Nights Forgotten

Chapter 22: Mistaken Identity

Addy’s POV

Even though I managed to avoid King Elijah all day yesterday, I’ll have to face him tonight. Apparently, there’s a big ball happening, and he’s planning on introducing me to the entire kingdom.

It’s not that I don’t want to see him. But after that awkward moment when we almost kissed, I needed some time to sort out my feelings before seeing him again.

Not that I’m any closer to figuring them out.

Once I’m out of the bath, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Moving my wet hair aside, I take another long look at the mysterious tattoo at the junction of my neck and shoulders. It’s the symbol of the sun traced on my skin in what appears to be dark ink, and a smaller symbol of a crescent moon is embedded inside of it.

Ever since I noticed it there days ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and wondering about its meaning.

Would Elijah know if I asked him?

The sound of the door opening pulls me from my thoughts, and Sayah enters the bathroom with a robe.

She spends the afternoon getting me ready for the ball by doing my hair and makeup. We don’t exchange any words all afternoon, so when it’s time to head downstairs, I’m almost grateful for some normal interaction with other people.

I’m told that the dress I’m wearing was handpicked by Elijah. Supposedly, it’s one of my old dresses from my life before I lost my memories. It’s a flowy, ice blue dress with a billowy train of sheer fabric behind it, which I feel absolutely ethereal in. Perhaps my former self had good taste, after all.

When I arrive at the ballroom, I’m surprised to find it full of guests, all of whom are mingling and chatting over the sound of light music from a small group of musicians in the corner. No one is dancing yet, but the night is still young.

As I make my way into the party, I begin to feel all eyes in the room turn onto me. Some of them seem intrigued, but others seem surprised. Maybe some of them are just surprised to see me alive after being dead?

That must be the reason why they’re looking at me so funny, right?

“Annabelle!”

Hearing my name, my gaze scans the crowd until I find King Elijah waving me over to a small group of people in the center of the room.

With a shy smile, I head over to stand beside him, and I can’t help but feel a mixture of emotions as I see the way Elijah’s looking at me. The grin on his face is growing wider as he drinks me in, and it certainly makes me feel a little more confident in this dress.

“My darling, you look beautiful tonight,” he smiles at me. “I look forward to sharing the first dance with you.”

The idea piques my interest. Elijah doesn’t seem to be the type to be light on his feet, but perhaps I’m in for a surprise later.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, everyone?”

The people around us nod as Elijah begins to introduce me to them. To be honest, I have no idea how I’m supposed to remember everyone’s names, but a few of them seem to be from the Ice Moon Pack.

“Annabelle, I can’t believe you’ve returned to us,” says one of the men. I already forgot his name, but Elijah called him his beta, whatever that means.

“Praise the Moon Goddess for your safe return!”

Once the excitement of my resurrection has subsided, the conversation drifts toward war tactics. It’s really quite dull, so I manage to excuse myself and head toward the refreshment table to find some food.

As I’m perusing a small display of hors d’oeuvres, I see an older woman with a cane step up on the other side of the table. I glance up to give her a polite smile before turning my attention back to the food.

“Lady Addison, is that any way to greet your mate’s grandmother?”

Surprised, I glance back up to see her quirking a stern eyebrow at me. She called me by the wrong name, but perhaps she’s a little senile in her old age.

And yet, she looks as sharp as a whip, judging by the way she’s staring me down right now.

“I apologize,” I stammer. “You must be Elijah’s grandmother. I’m having a bit of trouble remembering familiar faces at the moment. I’m sure Elijah’s filled you in.”

Her head tilts to the side as she narrows her gaze at me.

“Filled me in on what, exactly?”

Her sharp tone sends a shiver down my spine.

“Um, about how I died, and then came back,” I answer meekly. “I don’t remember anything from before.”

“From before? Child, what are you blabbering on about?”

An awkward silence falls between us, and I want to curl into myself to hide from her discerning gaze. I’m not quite sure what to say to her, but I think Elijah would be better suited for this conversation than I.

“You really do not know me, do you?” she says, taking a step toward me. “It seems that our dear King Elijah has been up to some mischief in my absence.”

She begins to circle around me like a vulture, and something tells me this isn’t the first time she’s examined me this closely.

“That is quite an interesting mark your mate has given you,” she muses, lifting my hair from my neck with her wrinkled fingers.

“You mean my tattoo?”

“No, child. It is not a tattoo. It is a mate mark, given by a werewolf to his fated mate.”

“Elijah gave this to me?”

“No, I don’t believe he did.”

She comes back around to stand in front of me, and she’s wearing an amused sneer on her face. I notice that her eyes are a peculiar shade of burgundy, but they seem to be glowing brighter as her eyes flick down to my neck.

This old lady is seriously creeping me out. Is this woman really Elijah’s grandmother?

Leaning in closer to me, she whispers so that only I can hear her.

“What if I told you that your mate is actually Nicholas of the House of Ourey – and not King Elijah?”

“Wait...isn’t that the old king? The one on the throne before Elijah? But he’s the enemy! He betrayed the Ice Moon Pack and left them to fend for themselves!”

I step away from her, shaking my head violently. This old woman is batshit crazy!

“No, Lady Addison. My grandson diverted his armies to save your worthless life.”

So, she’s Nicholas’ grandmother, not Elijah’s!

“My name is Annabelle, not Addison. I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

“No, child. It is you who is confused.”

The old woman takes a step back from me, assessing me with a bemused expression. She seems to enjoy whatever game she’s playing with me, and I don’t like it one bit.

I don’t think this woman is senile. In fact, I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.

And that’s what scares me.

“Is everything alright over here?”

Both of us glance up to find King Elijah stepping toward us, and before I realize it, he’s already wrapping a protective arm around my waist. As he pulls me against his side, I’m a bit relieved that he’s putting an end to this uncomfortable conversation.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the old woman says. “Forgive me for not curtsying before you. My old back is causing me quite a bit of pain, especially after the long journey here.”

“I’m surprised to see you’ve finally accepted my invitation.”

His tone seems guarded — like he doesn’t completely trust her.

“I wanted to show the realm that the House of Ourey supports you, Your Majesty. And it was lovely to meet your mate. Lady Annabelle, was it?”

Our gazes meet for a moment, and I can see it in her eyes: she knows something that I don’t.

“Yes, this is my mate, Annabelle, and the luna of the Ice Moon Pack.”

Elijah tightens his grip on my waist, and I don’t think I could break away from him if I wanted to.

“A luna?” the old woman says. “But she is clearly a human. I can smell her blood.”

A low growl escapes from Elijah’s chest, making every head in the room turn toward where we’re standing.

“At ease, Your Majesty,” she chuckles, her burgundy eyes sparkling with mischief. “Your human mate holds no appeal for my palate. I prefer the blood of vigorous, young men.”

Still, Elijah pushes me gently behind him, stepping protectively between myself and this bloodthirsty old woman.

“Enjoy the party,” he says through gritted teeth. “My mate and I must see to our other guests.”

“I thank you for your invitation,” she smirks. “Long live King Elijah!”

“Long live King Elijah!”

The room echoes in response, raising their glasses toward us before returning to their conversation.

He ushers me slowly through the party, shaking hands and saying hello as we make our way to the exit. His grip on my hand is tight as if he’s afraid I’ll get lost in the crowd if he lets go.

Once we’re finally out of the ballroom, his footsteps quicken, leading me up the stairs without a word. The sounds of the party grow further and further away as we make our way through the castle down a corridor I don’t recognize.

After we round a corner, we find ourselves alone in the hallway, which is dimly illuminated with flickering torches hanging on the stone walls. As soon as he’s sure we’re alone, he spins me around and pushes me up against the wall, placing his hands on the cold stone behind me.

I’m trapped between his muscular arms as he leans in closer to me, making my body stiffen with surprise.

“What did that old bat say to you?”

I blink up at him in surprise, completely disarmed by his question.

“Is she not to be trusted?”

“No. That woman is my predecessor’s grandmother. She’s a conniving old b***h, but she’s smart; I’ll give her that. Which is why I need to know what she said to you.”

Taking a deep breath, I’m ready to recount the strange conversation from earlier, but I stop short. I can’t explain why, but something tells me I need to keep this a secret for now – even from Elijah.

“She was just making small talk,” I shrug innocently. “She thought I’d recognize her, so it was just a little awkward explaining that I didn’t remember anyone from before. She explained she was the grandmother of the old king, and that’s when you came over.”

“That’s it?” he asks, his gaze narrowing suspiciously. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I nod my head as I meet his gaze. It takes every ounce of willpower to not glance away, but I can’t back down and betray my little white lie.

With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes and leans his head to rest on my shoulder. I’m surprised at this unusual display of vulnerability, and even more surprised at the words that come out of his mouth next.

“I thought she was going to take you away from me.”

His low voice is strained as he whispers in my ear, his body visibly relaxing against me.

Is this what it’s normally like between us? Does he only show this side of himself to me?

Hesitantly, I bring my arms up from my sides and wrap them around him, placing my hands on his back. Running my fingertips in comforting strokes, I trace the lines of his taut muscles, holding him close.

Perhaps this was the moment I was waiting for, for him to show a more vulnerable side to himself instead of the façade he shows the rest of the realm as king.

Right now, he’s just Elijah. My mate.

His big, strong hands drop from the wall, wrapping around my waist to pull me closer into his chest. We stay in this embrace for a long moment, holding onto each other, assuring the other without words that we aren’t going anywhere.

I’m not sure when the moment shifts, but soon I can hear his breath becoming more ragged and rough against my ear. His hot breath fans my neck as he burrows his nose deeper into my hair, inhaling my scent.

My skin is growing hot at his touch, especially as his hands slide down to rest on my butt. I don’t know where I get the courage to do this, but I push my hips back further, grinding into his hands to urge him to continue. The fire in my body is descending lower as desire starts to take hold.

And that’s when I realize that I want him.

As if sensing my need, he suddenly hoists me up into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist to steady myself. His face dives toward mine, our lips locking in a passionate, frenzied kiss as he pushes my back against the wall. My dress rides up, and I can feel the fabric of his pants brushing up against my lace panties.

As he grinds his growing hardness against me, I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, gripping tightly onto him as my moans are muffled by his mouth. His tongue slips past my lips, exploring my mouth possessively — and showing me he’s eager for more.

I can feel my heated passion pooling between my legs, making me wet and ready for him. I want him – all of him – and I don’t have time to sort through my complicated emotions toward our relationship right now.

No, right now, I need him inside of me, to satisfy my aching desire…and my curiosity.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” he gasps, breaking our kiss as he stares at me with a blazing passion in his eyes.

“No…take me right here…right now…”

“Here, where anyone could happen upon us?” he asks, his lips curling upward. “You really are her, aren’t you? Such a naughty little vixen…”

His mouth possesses me once again as he resumes grinding wantonly against my s*x. It’s as though he’s even more turned on than before by my answer, if that were possible. As he holds me against the wall, I begin to fiddle with the buttons of his pants, desperate to free his manhood and bring him inside of me.

He grunts my name as I feel his massive erection pushing into my hand.

“Annabelle…”

The only thing left between us is my underwear, which is barely more than a thin piece of lace – the final barrier between us. I guide the tip of his c**k closer with one hand, while the other slips a finger behind the hem to move it aside, granting him unobstructed access to my pleasure.

But just as he positions his head against my wet entrance, brushing his skin against mine, I’m suddenly overcome with a sharp pain. Crying out, I feel like my shoulder is being stabbed repeatedly with hot knives, and I quickly scramble out of his arms as I collapse to the ground.

“Annabelle?” What’s wrong?”

His voice is tight with unmet desire, but his eyes are wide with alarm as I writhe on the stone floor. My hand flies up to the source of my agony, which is at the junction of my neck and shoulder.

“Why does it hurt?!” I whimper as hot tears stream down my face.

“Y-Your mate mark…it’s glowing red...”

“Why is this happening?! Make it stop! PLEASE!”

Realization dawns on his face, and he quickly shoves his c**k back into his pants and fastens the buttons, stepping away from me as he does so. At first, I don’t want him to leave me, but the more distance he puts between us, the less pain I feel.

He’s at least ten paces away when it finally subsides, but my body feels completely spent after such intense agony.

Elijah begins to pace the hallway in distress, running his hands through his sandy hair.

“I…I can’t touch you right now,” he says in a pained voice. “I’ll need to call the guards to carry you to your room.”

“B-But I don’t understand…”

“It will be alright, my darling. I think I might know what’s causing this, which means I know how to fix it.”

His glacial blue eyes move to the junction of my neck and shoulders, narrowing his gaze dangerously at the tattoo on my skin.