The Knight; His secret author

At the Thornback ball

“I want to lay you down on the grass and have my way with you,” he whispered seductively, his breath a rush of heat against my ear. I imagined how wonderful it would feel to have the cool green against my back and the fire of his flesh pressed against my bosom.

She-wolf, the Alpha of my Desires, A Memoir

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*Althea*

I seldom receive invitations to balls… not since my father's death a little over a year ago, not since he was no longer there to throw his influence around to secure them for me. In fact, I'm rather certain his heir, my half brother, has let it be known he wouldn't attend any affairs to which I'd been invited and would look unfavorably upon anyone who extended an invitation to me.

The Luna of Thornback, however, as an infant left on the doorstep of a baby farmer, is not one for playing political games or being intimidated. I met her two years ago, when my father, in spite of his failing health, had brought me to the Thornback ball. After I had returned from the Continent, he set about once again striving to find me a protector. If not for Arianna, I would have dissuaded him, but I also knew he could more peacefully leave this world if he was providing me with resources.

I am not fool enough to refuse an invitation that arrives at my door, especially when it might provide an opportunity for Alpha Chidding to pursue his courtship of me in a more public setting.

Hence, this evening I am at the well-attended affair, speaking with Princess Leah of the Rose, the Luna's sister and wife to the Prince of the Rose, and Miss Anna, who had married Kai Tempest, the Luna's brother.

“Leah, you own a bookshop for goodness’ sake,” Miss Anna is saying to her sister-by-marriage. “How can you not obtain a book I want to read?”

“Anna, no copies are to be found anywhere. Before I could get word to my shop manager that I wanted some put aside for us, she’d already sold all our copies of The Alpha of my Desires. Honestly, this book has unexpectedly taken the country by storm. I’ve spoken with the publisher, and he’s assured me he will print more . . . once it’s safe.”

“Safe?”

Leah glances around before revealing in a lowered voice, “He fears being arrested for printing obscene material.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes. Through my solicitor, I’ve already been informed of the publisher’s concerns. We are barely two months in, and it would be the fifth printing apparently, he’s grossly misjudged the book’s potential popularity and if he’s not been arrested yet, surely he is not in any true danger of being so. Perhaps he is merely sharing nonexistent fears in an effort to add to the story’s mystique, so more people are clamoring to read it.

“How obscene is it?” Anna asks.

“Not very,” I answer without thinking.

“You’ve read it, then?” Leah asks.

“No, I’ve not read the book, but I’ve heard it’s not terribly detailed when it comes to describing the more intimate encounters. It’s the journey of a she-wolf falling in love … with a rake. Apparently.”

“Having fallen in love with one myself,” Anna says, “I can well imagine such a telling has the potential to provide an absorbing read. I suspect the stuffy and more boring among us are the ones raising the fuss about it.”

“On the contrary, I suspect, they’re the ones reading it and making it so dashed difficult to find,” Leah says.

I release a small burst of laughter. "Do you truly think so?"

"Absolutely. We all have things for which we secretly yearn. Books open worlds to us, and a person shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of their reading choices."

"I quite agree."

"We have one patron who will only write down the title she wishes us to find for her. She'll never say it out loud. Embarrassed, I think, for anyone to hear what she wants to read. I find it remarkably sad that she's not comfortable sharing her joy of the material with others."

"But at least the material is available to her," Anna says. "The book I want to read is not available to me and that's upsetting. It has piqued my curiosity even more to discover what is in it that others find offensive."

"From what I understand," Leah says, "some view it as a danger because the heroine is unwed and carrying on as though she were, having relations outside the boundaries of marriage. As you are well aware, among proper society, that sort of behavior is not to be tolerated. Some fear the book might encourage people, in particular single she-wolves, to engage in illicit liaisons."

"People aren't supposed to murder either," I say, "but no one is shouting 'Oh, the obscenity of it,' when it comes to detective novels."

"I’d never thought of it that way," Leah says. "Can you imagine how my brother Beast would react to having the detective novels he pens banned? I daresay he would have a word or two to say about that once he finally takes his seat in the House of Alphas."

"I am more intrigued than ever," Anna says. "Leah, you absolutely must secure me a copy."

"I shall speak with the publisher again. Perhaps he has one hidden away somewhere. If not, well, I do know of some shops that sell that which is not to be sold."

"Are you referring to an underground market?" I ask.

"Quite. I don’t dabble in it. My family has worked too hard to earn respectability, and I have no desire to have my shop invaded or torn apart by a well-intentioned constable or whoever is charged with enforcing these laws."

"Any destruction of your property would be such a shame," Anna says. "It is the loveliest shop and so welcoming. Have you ever visited, Althea?"

"I've not but have decided I must in the very near future."

"I’m hardly ever in the bookshop these days," Leah says, "but if you let me know when you’re coming, I’ll make a point to be there."

I smile. It's so lovely to have friends. I wish I'd known these she-wolves when I was younger. They're incredibly accepting, but then I’ve yet to meet a Tempest who sits in judgment of anyone. "You're so very kind."

A warm sensation settles along the nape of my neck, causing the fine hairs to shimmer pleasantly, and I know, know, who has quietly approached even before he speaks. I have always, somehow, instinctually sensed when he is near, drawing me toward him, just as the moon does the tides.

“Princess. Miss Anna, Althea.”

I understand Knightley means no insult with his forms of address, merely exhibiting proper etiquette by giving each the respect due to her. The other two are high ranked she-wolves, one by marriage, the other by birth. And I am a Miss by lack of marriage and questionable birth. I don't know why our forebears decided distinctions were necessary, or how they determined what was polite behavior. Right now, I have a desire to be incredibly impolite and simply ignore the scoundrel. However, doing so might give him the impression he is of consequence. It's better to face him with disdain so clarity reigns, and he understands he matters not at all.

“My Alpha,” my two companions say in unison, while I slowly turn, arching one eyebrow and holding the rest of my features immobile, showing no other reaction to his presence. Although inwardly, I curse soundly. The man is handsome enough in ordinary clothes, but when wearing his black evening attire, he is gorgeous. And well he knows it.

His cerulean gaze is homed in on me, and I begin to grow warm under his intense perusal. It seems to last a lifetime, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before he speaks, with a slight lowering of his head. “Althea, would you be kind enough to honor me with a waltz?”

“I would not.”

His eyes flare briefly. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting me to rebuff his invitation, especially in view of witnesses. He shifts his attention to the other two. “I don’t suppose you’d give us a moment.”

“No need,” I say, “as I can’t tolerate the fetid air that blew in with your arrival.”

I’d barely taken a step before he moves in front of me. “Please. One dance.”

“You are under the misconception that I would be willing to give you anything at all. Why this sudden urge of yours to continually approach me is beyond my ability to comprehend. I don’t know how to make it any clearer, My Alpha, but I want nothing at all to do with you.”

“Allie..”

I shove on him, cutting off his use of the shortened version of my name that only he had ever used, and send him staggering back a few steps. I hate to have lost control, to sense the heat of my anger beginning to burn brighter. “I am done with you. And I have been for years.”

Lifting my skirts, I make haste to reach the open doors leading onto the terrace and from there into the gardens. I desperately need the cooler air and hope Chidding had not witnessed my display of temper. I’d already waltzed with him once, and he’d reserved the final dance of the night for me. He is charming and witty, with hair the shade of burnished red and eyes the darkness of brewed tea. He reminds me nothing at all of Knightley.

Finally, I am outside. Raising my skirts higher, I race down the steps and then slow my pace so as not to give the impression I am in fact running away. I’m not. Damnation but I am. From the memories that still plague me. Putting them to paper had only temporarily rid me of them. Knightley approaching me has brought them and the emotions surrounding them back to life. The joy. The humiliation.

The humiliation had torn me asunder. But the joy had been exquisite. The kind that serves as the impetus for sonnets being penned, songs being sung, books being written. I dearly want to experience it again but am fairly certain it is allowed only once in a lifetime. While I like Chidding quite a bit, am comfortable with him, I know I’d never fall madly in love with him. Nor would he with me. While I experience moments when the realization saddens me, I understand the need for sacrifices.

A good bit of my life has been comprised of them. What is one more?

My thoughts take a darker turn, and I decide to match my steps to them, leaving the well-lit pathways of the garden behind. I navigate through the thick grass, the distant lights just enough to guide me between the darker shapes and shadows, avoiding any foliage that might snag my gown. The last thing I need tonight is to look like I've been part of some clandestine tryst.

Stopping beneath a towering elm, I'm faced with a brick wall enclosing the Alpha’s land in Blackrock City. It's all too reminiscent of a different wall, one against which Knightley had pressed me, consuming my mouth with his. Why does everything seem to circle back to him?

The scent of the blossoms here, rich with sandalwood, hits me. Bloody hell, he's followed me. I wonder, half-seriously, if I ran fast enough, could I vault over that wall? But running from him has never been the answer. It never worked. "Why will you not leave me in peace?"

“I owe you.”

“An explanation for that morning?” His words and actions have never made sense to me. I spin around to face him. “After all these years, it had better be damned good.”

“I remember a time when you didn’t use profanity.”

“I used to not do a lot of things. I was a child then. I'm not anymore. So why did you change your mind about marrying me?”

“That I cannot explain.”

“I'm beyond having my feelings hurt because you found fault with me. So, list out all the reasons. All the details about me that made me unsuitable.”

“Bloody hell, Allie, is that what you thought all these years? Believe me, my not going through with the marriage had nothing to do with you.”

“Ha!” The scoff bursts out of me before I can stop it, and I quickly cover my mouth. The last thing I need is for anyone, especially Chidding, to find me here with Knightley, hidden away. Clenching my fists, I step closer and say with scorn, “Perhaps it was your plan all along to publicly shame me, to show all of Blackrock City that I was not worthy of dreams, that I was reaching for something beyond my grasp.”