Saltbound and Bloodsworn (by Allison Franklin) novel Chapter 13

Saltbound and Bloodsworn

Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

Sylvan’s eyes ran over her appearance: the soiled dress, the knotted hair, the scent rolling off her that to anyone else would make them plug their nose but made him nearly feral. He swallowed. The cell ke wanted to take her to was his own. There was a tub he could ordered filled with hot steaming water and sprinkled with herbs to release their overworked muscles, a fireplace they could lay in front of while drinking wine to help them loosen up further and then, to finish off the night, a large four-poster bed wireze she could start her sentence underneath him… or on top, if she preferred.

He knew, however, that getting her into that cell would take more time. No, she wanted a different cell first. It certainly wouldn’t be as deplorable as the one occupied by her former alpha, but it would be enough to, hopefully, drive her toward the one Sylvan would be occupying. He leaned forward and smirked,

knowing invading her space made her heart rate spike.

“Right this way, Isla,” he said, before turning on his heel and waltzing up the stairs toward his family’s home.

The doors of the large castle were opened for him by several footmen. The foyer, lined by stones of various colors that created a mosaic of nature scenes along the floor and walls, caused his bootfalls to echo. Ahead of him, a group of women dressed fr maid’s uniforms rushed forward, led by the house

manager, Georgia.

“Prince Sylvan, so glad to see you home, Your Highness,” Georgia said, curtsying low along with the rest of her staff.

“Nice to see you, Georgia. I’ll need use of my rooms for the night,” Sylvan informed her.

“Just the night, Your Highness?” she asked.

“Hopefully,” he added with a smirk.

Georgia gave the politest smile she could muster with her naturally harsh expression. She put her hands behind her back. “I will ensure they are ready for you. When will you be needing them?”

Sylvan looked to Nikolai who gave a nod toward the throne room. Sylvan sighed. “As soon as I’m finished debriefing my parents.”

Georgia nodded sharply once in return. “It will be done,” she said. “Will that be all?”

“I’m afraid not. Georgia, this woman here is to be my new personal maid,” Sylvan said, stepping aside and gesturing toward Isla.

Isla gave a tight smile and dipped her head in greeting.

Georgia straightened her spine and pursed her lips, clearly not thinking Isla was showing her enough respect, though she would-never say so in front of one of the royal family.

“I shall make sure she and Eloise will…”

“Only her, Georgia,” Sylvan interrupted.

Georgia raised a brow before dropping her head. “As you wish, Your Highness. In that case, I will ensure Eloise trains her to your specifications.”

“Prince Sylvan,” one of his father’s attendants called.

Sylvan dropped his head and sanded his hands together. “Yes, I’m coming.”

The attendant nodded and turned on his heel as though he were a statue with limited muscle access and walked back to the throne room. Sylvan turned to

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Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

S stood-straighter as he stepped into her space. The metal of his armor brushed against the soft fabric of her dress.

Sylvan leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Be good. I look forward to having your scent in my sheets.”

Her heart rate rose. He watched her pulse hammer against the smooth skin of her neck.

“There will never be any part of me between your sheets Your Highness,” Isla said with a sweet smile.

Your Highness. The title never sounded more erotic than when spoken from her lips.

“I’ll be dreaming of sand tonight, nonetheless,” he told her.

“I would tell you what I wish to be dreaming of but I don’t think your guards would take kindly to it,” she said, looking pointedly at the men surrounding

them.

His wolf purred at her bravado and pushed against the bars of his cage, urging Sylvan to move in, inhale her scent, to bend her over, to mark her here in

front of all these witnesses.

As the thoughts ricocheted around his mind like swords against shields, his wolf took the opportunity to push forward, inch by inch. Sylvan clenched his fists. His wolf knew he was about to walk away. He knew he would be facing his parents. He knew he needed his mate by his side, not across the castle in the servant’s quarters. For the first time in years, the primal side of his nature began to override the logical. Nikolai cleared his throat and Sylvan realized he could make out the thread count of the white lace collar of her dress, meaning his vision was sharpened and everyone could see the blackness of his eyes and thus his proximity to losing control. He closed them and tried to focus.

He stepped back and inhaled air that wasn’t fully tainted in her scent before he walked away from her without looking back.

Sylvan stomped through the halls of the castle, his mind in upheaval as he fought to subdue the beast within himself. He stopped, pressed his forehead against a tapestry and inhaled the ancient scent of stale air and dust the fabric held. The odor flooded his brain, eliminating the remnants of what he’d

scented a few minutes earlier. Then the air was soaked in ash. Cole had arrived and it helped to push away the last of her aroma. Sylvan pictured the black wolf in his mind. He pictured the chains tightening against the arms and legs, the feral snarl as the beast roared in defiance. Roared for him to chase the scent that had soaked into his skin, his soul. Once the wolf was hauled back behind the bars, Sylvan slammed the door shut and threw away the key.

“What’s happened?” Cole asked Nikolai.

“I need to stay away from her,” Sylvan answered.

“Ah, the mate bond, huh?” Cole asked with a few slow nods, as if he could understand.

“She cannot know. No one can. Are we clear? She needs to stay away from me and I her.”

“Should be easy to do,” Nikolai said. “With her being your personal maid and all.”

Sylvan took a step back and opened his eyes. After waiting a moment to ensure his makeshift prison would remain intact, he resumed his walk toward the throne room, ignoring Nikolai’s condescending comments. Once at the room where his mother and father held counsel, he used both hands to thrust through the doors, which slammed against the walls with his entrance. The hall quieted as he walked toward his family perched upon their delegated chalks. Once he reached the dais, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“Mother, Father,” he greeted, his eyes on the ground.

“Get up, son,” his father commanded, his voice deep as it resonated through the hall.

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Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

Sylvan stood and looked at his parents for the first time in years. His mother sat regally in her chair, wearing an opulent gown of emerald with gemstones of the same name adorning her neck, ears, wrists and fingers. She swiped a tear as she grinned down at him in excitement. His father sat in the middle wearing his usual red coat and stern expression, though a slight tilt of the right side of his lip showed the subtle hint of pride at seeing his war-torn son come home victorious yet again. Then there was his brother, Tristan, the future king, who sat on his father’s left. He grinned wickedly in the coat adorned with more

jewels than his mother’s. Surrounding him were various women dangling from his limbs.

“Silly! So glad to have you home!” Tristan bellowed, sitting back and stroking the dark-haired woman standing closest to him.

Sylvan locked eyes with Rose, his childhood love, the woman who he thought would be his fated mate, but instead became his first taste of betrayal. Only two nights after her eighteenth birthday, when they’d discovered they were not fated, Sylvan found her in bed with his brother. She claimed magic, Sylvan claimed power-hungry greed. Who would want to be with the spare when they could have a taste of the future king? Tristan had done it to remind his brother how powerful he was, a tactic he’d utilized since they were children.

“We are so happy to have you home,” his mother said, her voice clogged with emotion.

“Yes, we can’t wait to hear all about your victory. We shall have a dinner tomorrow night to celebrate,” his father decreed.

“Yes, we must make sure you receive your spoils and allow you to rest after such a long ordeal,” Tristan agreed.

Rose smiled and waved her fan, hiding the glimmer of a smile. He wondered if his brother knew that it would be Sylvan’s bed she’d be crawling into that night. Not for love, but for pleasure and a detachment to alleviate years of longing for something more. He wondered idly if Tristan knew she would come to him whenever he was home. He wondered if he would care at all.

“I only plan to stay long enough to get my orders. I have no intention of staying more than the night,” Sylvan announced.

Silence filled the hall. His mother sent his father a look of quiet desperation. “Kairen,” she pleaded. He nodded at her once before grasping her hand.

“Sylvan, it is our wish that you remain home for a time.”

“I have no desire to…”

*Let me rephrase that, shall 1?” his father interrupted. “You will be staying home for a time.”

“To do what?” Sylvan growled, his wolf clawing at the barricade in his mind as his anger spiked. “There is nothing here for me.”

“That is why we wish you to stay.” His father brought his wife’s hand to his mouth to kiss “We believe it is time you choose a mate.”

Someone’s cough was the only sound that broke through the sudden tension filling the room.

“No.”

“That was not a request.”

“Nothing is a request with you, Father,” Sylvan bit out. “We have discussed this. I will not take a mate. The risk to her safety would be…”

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