Her Wicked Secret {Sequel to His Mortal Bride}

♱ Chapter 15 ♱

Piper

The night had been a complete failure. I could see on my parents' faces the disappointment of watching each suitor come and go without much of a conversation. I guess I wasn't masking my disinterest very well.

Once the ball ended, I said my goodbyes to mutual friends of the family and guests of honor and thanked them for coming.

But my mind was in a completely different place. I couldn't stop thinking about what Lord Kazimir had said. He was proposing a deal, but what kind of deal?

He didn't want to charm me or woo me into choosing him. What different tactics was he playing at? The deal itself? He must have assumed that the deal was good enough that he didn't need to charm his way into making me pick him as my Soulmate.

I itched to talk to him again and ask him all of the questions that whirled in my head. He said we would meet again, but when?

"I'm surprised with you Piper. With how much dread you showed for this ball, I assumed you would want to avoid another," my mother criticized, the threat to throw another debutante ball imminent in her choice of words. I rolled my eyes, turning to her.

"So you thought I would make a decision just so I could avoid another stupid ball? That's your leverage? Making me waste my time at another one of these pointless events?" I spat back, crossing my arms across my chest.

"It's not a threat, it is the reality of the situation you're in. If you don't find a match at this ball, then we will throw as many as we need to until you do. This is our way of giving you a choice," She responded.

"Whatever," I murmured, leaving the ballroom with my head high even though I felt like doing the complete opposite. I felt defeated.

I went to my room in a rush, weaving in and out of departing guests. I held the skirt of my dress up as I stormed into my room. The door slammed shut behind me as I slumped against it. The back of my head thudded against the massive wooden door and I let out a heavy sigh. My eyes burned with foreign tears.

I didn't cry often. Normally, I didn't have this much stress on my shoulders either so I guess it came with the new circumstances. Everyone had their breaking point, and I was nearing mine. I could see it right there in front of me, and I was barely coping in order to prepare for the time I finally did break.

I shrugged and went over to the paned doors that lead out to the balcony. I opened them swiftly and fell onto the railing. I slouched against the stone and laid my head on my arms. I cried into my elbow quietly as the rush of the wind ran over me.

How could I let this happen? How did I end up with the weight of such a detrimental decision on my shoulders? And the only options were bad ones.

I sighed, pulling myself up. I held on to the edge of my balcony with a grip strong enough that the stone cracked and crumbled down to my feet, leaving two dents in the railing the size of my fists. I threw myself off the edge, falling gracefully into a big puddle. I groaned in annoyance but I didn't pay any more attention to the messy dress I was wearing and darted.

Running in a long dress was not easy but I did my best. I didn't take Silveia this time as I ran to Evander's. I just wanted to get there to see him. I sprinted past tall evergreen trees with ease, but by the time I found myself at Evander's cottage, the bottom of my dress was torn and ruined.

I had changed halfway through the ball into a crimson chiffon gown with long cuffed sleeves and a deep neckline. The chiffon skirt was torn in spots and the wet, muddy ground had stained it up to above my ankles. My hair was blown out, the previously perfect ink-black curls now loose and messy, my golden crown still in place around my head. I am sure I looked more than unpresentable, but I didn't think twice about it. I just wanted to see Evander.