Masked Fate (Fated Love #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Pandora

While everyone with a dick heads down to the dungeons, probably with a hard-on at the thought of torturing our enemy, Astrid and I go find August. I didn’t know Milana was his mate, and with her down in the dungeons, I have to wonder where his head is at.

“They won’t hurt her, will they?” I ask, frowning at the thought.

Astrid shakes her head. “No, not since she’s his mate. That’s a line they won’t cross. It’s up to August to handle her.”

“Doesn’t look like he’s doing a very good job,” I mutter, wondering how the hell this will play out. I turn to the seer next to me. “What else do you know that you haven’t shared?”

She laughs. “Many, many things, my dear friend.” She stops and turns to me. “Does Soren know about your magic?”

I shake my head. “Not unless Rave has said something to him. I don’t think he’s ever actually seen me use any magic. He probably thinks I’m only good for spells and potions.”

“He definitely knows you’re good for masking spells.” She smirks, amused at her own joke. We stop at his bedroom door, and Astrid knocks loudly. “August?”

A shirtless August answers, squinting his brown eyes at us. He absently scratches his hard chest. “What are you both doing here?”

“Came to see how you’re doing with the whole mate-in-the-dungeon situation,” Astrid says gently, offering him a small smile.

“Well, I think I’m still drunk,” he replies, laughing without humor. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t win in this situation. She hates me. She’s our enemy’s daughter. Our enemy we’re about to kill.”

He heads back into his room, leaving the door open, so we take that as an invitation and follow him inside, sitting on a leather couch opposite his bed.

August lays back on his bed, stares up at the ceiling, and mutters, “With you both in here, I’ll probably be dead soon, so none of this will matter anyway.”

“She will come around,” I tell him, trying to make him feel better. “You’re a good man, August. And once she gets to know you, she will see that.”

He turns on his side to face us. “She won’t even look at me.”

“Give her time,” Astrid adds, glancing around his room. “And maybe, I don’t know, get her out of the cell.”

“She’ll zip away the second she’s out of there,” he grumbles, raking a hand through his curly brown mop of hair. “If I let her go, she will join their army to fight against us. I don’t want her getting hurt. I don’t want to have to fight against my own mate.”

He raises good points.

“At least make sure she’s comfortable then,” I suggest.

“She’s being looked after,” he replies, sitting up on the edge of the mattress. “And kept away from Declan.”

“Good,” Astrid replies, moving to sit next to him and touching his shoulder. “I’m sorry this is the hand fate has dealt you, August. But it will be okay in the end.”

“Promise?” he asks, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Promise,” she replies, kissing his cheek. “Whatever you need, we are here for you.”

Moving to the other side of him, he casually wraps his arm around my shoulder. “And how are you doing with everything, Pandora?”

I shrug. “I can’t really complain, I suppose. Being mates with the Master manwhore isn’t so bad.”

At least he doesn’t have me in a dungeon.

And if he did, it would be a sex one.

August laughs a deep, rough sound that makes me smile. “He’s a strong warrior with a good heart. He’ll look after you.”

“You only have good things to say about him even after he tried to kill you?” I tease.

“I would have done the same,” he replies, smirking.

It hits me then that Milana will probably hate Astrid and me one day, considering we both have a history with August.

“You still might,” Astrid adds, nudging him with her shoulder, which makes him bump into me. “Depending on Milana’s history.”

“She has a history of child kidnapping,” he grumbles, looking down at his hands. Milana once tried to kidnap Vale from Rave, and none of us have forgotten about it. “I just hope the fates know what they are doing.”

Don’t we all!

“They do,” Astrid promises, standing up. “Now come down for dinner. We will handle Soren.”

August suddenly turns his head, studying me. “You knew he was your mate when you gave yourself to me?”

I slowly nod. “Yeah. I never thought he would find out the truth about us.”

Or that Soren would want me.

He dips his head. “Dangerous game you were playing.”

I touch his shoulder. “I don’t regret it. Soren has slept with half the kingdom, so he can deal with me sleeping with one other male.”

August smirks, standing up and offering me his hand. “You don’t know how men work. In some ways, that’s almost worse.”

With that parting comment, he stalks into his bathroom while Astrid and I head to the dungeons.

We find our mates standing in front of who I assume is Declan, who is looking a little worse for wear. Magical shackles encase his ankles, and he sits with his back against the cold stone wall. Blond hair falls over his forehead, his eyes cold and blue. He’s a tall, built man—a warrior. And even though he is older, I would consider him attractive.

But his eyes are dead.

There’s no kindness or warmth in them.

Right now, they are pinned on Astrid, the woman he wanted but never got his hands on. “Queen Astrid.”

“Declan,” she replies, raking her gaze over him. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

“Always knew where you were,” he replies, a smug smirk tilting his thin lips. “I just couldn’t get to you.”

Without the shackles containing his magic, who knows what he would be capable of with his mind manipulation?

“And now we’ve gotten to you,” Astrid replies, lifting her chin.

Soren pulls me to his side with his big hand circling my waist. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As Rave steps toward the cell, I know why Soren wants to get me out of here.

His eyes are pitch black, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

Rave is going to kill Declan, not taking any chances on Axe’s vision coming true.

“Take Astrid with you,” Rave orders and Soren nods, but Astrid shakes her head.

“No, I’m staying,” she replies, pulling out her ruby dagger and twirling it in her red-tipped fingers.

Soren looks to his king, who nods once.

He then picks me up and carries me out. “I can walk, you know.”

His lips curl in amusement. “I know, sweetheart. I just wanted you out of there before you decided you wanted to stay too.”

“I’m happy to skip the torture session,” I admit, burying my face in his neck. He flinches, and I realize how insensitive my words were. I shouldn’t joke about such things, not when he has lived through such hell.

He pauses as we almost get to the dining hall. “You smell different. Why do you smell like another male?”

I roll my eyes. “Astrid and I went to check on August.”

He continues walking until we reach the table with a full spread on it, but no one is around.

Couldn’t the killing wait until after dinner?

Oh well, more for me.

“You touched him?” he finally asks as he places me on a chair.

“Soren—”

He sits next to me, his jaw marble and his fingers twitching like they want to reach for his twin swords. “He’s a friend. We went to make sure he was okay with the whole Milana thing.”

“You can make sure he’s okay from three feet away,” he replies through clenched teeth. Still, he begins to serve me a plate filled with everything on offer and more than I could ever eat in one sitting. “I don’t like that he’s known you in that way, little witch. It makes me want to kill him with my bare hands.” He pauses and then adds, “And maybe gouge his eyes out.”

“Descriptive,” I murmur, amusement filling me as he slides me the full plate.

“Now eat,” he commands, and instead of serving his own food, he watches me carefully with a glass of wine in his hand as I lift my fork to my lips, chewing and swallowing a bite of chicken.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask, and his eyes flicker with a different kind of hunger.

“What I want right now is going to have to wait,” he replies in a husky tone, his eyes roaming over my body. He picks up a piece of fresh buttered bread with his fingers and brings it to my mouth. He makes a low, deep sound when I take a bite, and I don’t miss the dominant gleam in his eyes as he continues to watch me eat.

“What’s with you and wanting me to eat?” I ask, taking a bite of potato.

“I like taking care of you,” he replies, running his teeth over his bottom lip. “I always want you full. Whether that be food or dick…” He pauses and then clarifies, “My dick.”

I shake my head at him. “Lucky I like to eat then, huh? And I’m not shy of an audience.”

The corner of his lips lifts. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wait! What?

“I meant with eating. Not with sex,” I blurt out, and he laughs, finally picking up some food for himself.

“I’d never let anyone see you like that, little witch. You are mine , and I find myself feeling rather possessive over that fact.”

He has two cute nicknames for me now, and I have nothing for him. I decide to try one out, knowing he’ll enjoy it. I refuse to call him Master like all the others, but this one might work for me.

“I’m not yours just yet, Sir .”

I taste the words on my tongue. It was that or Daddy.

The thought of having him take control of me in the bedroom is fucking hot, but the idea of just being another one of his pets makes my chest tighten. I know I need to let go of that, even if it’s easier said than done.

Soren puts his fork down, turning his body to face me. His hungry gray eyes meet mine before he cups my jaw and squeezes. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, little witch.”

His gaze drops to my mouth. He looks a second away from laying me back right here on this table and having his way with me.

But then Bane steps into the room, and Soren turns his now-narrowed eyes onto him. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes,” Soren replies at the same time as I say, “No.”

I kick Soren underneath the table. This is a public room, and we are not in our kingdom. Soren is acting like Bane is storming into our private bedroom.

He takes a deep breath and picks up more bread to lift to my lips.

“Why are you force-feeding her?” Bane asks, sounding entirely too amused. He pulls out a chair to join us, smirking as he pours himself some red wine. My eyes linger on his tattooed hand. It’s going to make a pretty collar for someone one day. “Is this one of your kinks?”

It totally is.

“You worry about your own kinks, Bane,” Soren replies in a dark tone. “I just like taking care of my mate.”

Laughing, I accidentally drop my knife to the floor. As I’m bending down to pick it up, I notice Soren’s hand quickly reaching out and covering the sharp edge of the table with his palm so I can’t knock my head on it.

When I sit back up, his eyes are on Bane, but his hand is still covering the corner.

He’s so protective, and not just in his crazy I-want-to-kill-everyone-who-so-much-as-looks-at-me alpha male way.

He’s also fucking sweet.

And it’s in these moments I wonder why I still haven’t made him mine.