The Knight; His secret author

Rare and remarcable

I had never wanted as I wanted now, his hand resting against more than my cheek, but gliding over other areas, causing little eruptions of pleasure wherever he touched.

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

Back to now

*Knightley*

I came because I don't want to disappoint the child. Not like I once disappointed her mother. Althea's father had been furious, justifiably so, when I instructed him to take her away from the church before I announced to the gathering that no marriage was to take place.

The Alpha's fist had landed against my jaw with a force I hadn't expected of the older gent. He had wanted an explanation that I refused to give. Her father had threatened to ruin me, to ensure no father would give me permission to wed their daughter. I had been more than willing to give him that victory.

I imagine, if her father were still alive, he would object to my presence here today as much as Althea does. But ever since the little sprite handed me the invitation, I must have glanced at it a dozen times and traced my fingers over the intricate loops. Now standing beside her mother, I can barely take my gaze from the girl as she plays with my gift.

“How did things go with Chidding after I left?” I ask, striving to retain a neutrality in my tone I absolutely do not feel. If it hadn’t gone well, I’ll bear the brunt of disappointment. If it had gone well, the answer would slice into my heart as effectively as a cat-o’-nine tails.

“Well. We waltzed. He brought me a lemonade. To be honest, he barely left my side until the final dance.” She says.

I nod. “Laying claim to you, then. He didn’t do that before we danced.”

“Are you taking credit?” She asks.

I fight against smiling at her incredulous tone. Since I sat at the table that night at the Wolves, getting a rise out of her is fast becoming my favorite thing to do. I have always thought her worthy of sitting at the side of any gent, but now it's a matter of only a few being worthy of sitting at her side. I shift my gaze over to her. When her hackles are raised, she is a gorgeous sight to behold but then she is under any circumstance. “When will you see him next?”

It's difficult to tell if she's piqued because I’ve ignored her question to ask one of my own, but she purses her lips, obviously not wanting to answer.

“Nothing formal has been arranged,” she finally responds.

The man needs to get a move on. “Mmm.”

“What does that little condescending groan of disapproval mean?” she asks tartly.

“I’m simply surprised he didn’t arrange for you to be in each other’s company. At the park or a museum. Or a ride over your grounds. Do you still do that in the mornings?”

On more than one occasion I had been waiting for her beyond sight of the manor, and we had raced over the meadows and through the forests.

“I don’t think he’s much of a horseman.” She says.

“What about your daughter? Does she ride?” I ask.

She shakes her head, “Not yet. But she will.”

“Does she have a pony?” I enquire.

“Is there one in your basket?” She raises a brow.

Grinning, I wonder if she might ever address me without a cutting edge lacing her words, her tone. Yet, I can't help but admire the strength she projects. I once thought her in desperate need of protecting, but the she-wolf standing before me now protects herself and all she holds dear.

Which obviously is no longer me. The sense of loss that washes over me threatens to take me under. I thought I had known the price I was paying. What I hadn’t considered was the value that years added to a masterpiece. She is precisely that. Rare and remarkable.

“I know a horse breeder who is skilled at matching equines with the appropriate rider. When you’re ready for her to have a mount, I would be happy to provide one for her through him.” I say.

“Just because she gave you an invitation, don’t think you will be remaining in her life.” She huffs.

“Once you are wed, I suspect you… and she… will never see me again.” It would be too painful to watch another man enjoying the fruits of a family I so desperately long for and will forever deny myself.