Chapter 339: Hand Me Your Wrist

"This is where you will be staying," Zagan stopped in front of a bedroom door and gestured for her to enter.

August stared at the open door, remaining in the hallway as she did.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, gaze flitting over her face without getting sucked into the golden suns of her eyes again.

"I just…" she wrapped her arms around herself, "I guess I am hungry."

"Did you not eat?" he asked. "I can have something brought up for you."

August thought of the stew that Penelope had brought and then dropped, scrambling to clean it as well as herself before Zagan arrived. They were lucky he had taken so long to get there.

"Okay," she said softly, and when his polite smile grew wider without him otherwise moving a muscle, it was clear he was waiting for her to enter the room. She clenched her teeth and walked forward, stepping over the threshold to get a better view of the stately space where she would be staying.

There was an ornate four poster bed with a gold and maroon bedspread complete with an impressive number of pillows, tall windows with the curtains drawn, a fireplace, a desk, a standing full length mirror, and several area rugs covering the wood floors. And it was dark. Very, very dark.

"Does the fireplace work?" August asked, slowly turning around to face him.

"Yes, of course," he smiled, following her into the room. "As you can see, you have an attached bathroom as well. I will have someone come up and start the fire for you and show you how to work everything."

"Will… Penelope be coming again to check on me?" she asked, wondering if it was suspicious of her to ask. But she didn't want to be left in here. Something just didn't feel right about it.

"Oh, yes. She will need to investigate that strange manifestation that happened in the infirmary, I imagine. Don't worry, Miss Cady. We will take care of you," he smiled. "And food will be brought to your room promptly."

With that, Zagan disappeared from the doorway, silently fuming at the promise the Luna had gotten out of him as he stalked down the hall to find where Nedra had decided to take her rest. When he passed his own room, he could smell the scent of Penelope's blood. Did she not know how to clean and bandage herself properly? Would he have to do it?

His eyes flickered to their narrow, predatory slits before he shook the urge to taste her. This was all going terribly awry, and that was not something he was used to. He was used to being in control. The alyko could perform as many crazy, awe-inspiring, inter-dimensional abilities as they were capable of as long as it was done within a confined, controlled space. Shattered glass and blood and shock waves and disappearances were not anywhere within the realm of acceptable.

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Nedra was passed out in the bedroom on the other side of his. It looked like she barely made it to the bed. Her legs were hanging off the side, and she was sprawled out with her arms extended above her head. Usually she curled up in a little protective ball after performing a difficult enchantment in order to make herself as small as possible. Was she getting weaker that she couldn't even make it that far?

He gathered her up in his arms and brought her to his room. She would not be happy to know the he was taking care of seeing her home himself, but all of the lycans he would typically put in charge of her were gone to retrieve Zosime.

The Winter was standing obediently just inside his office door, waiting for him as instructed.

"Stay here Penelope. I will return shortly," he told her over his shoulder, and then he took Nedra out his window and swiftly jumped between trees before arriving as close to her cottage as they could get him.

He walked through her quaint garden and into the home that she kept so secluded from everyone. Everything inside was colorful and quite… strange, if he was honest. The stairs leading to her second floor were painted three different shades of green. She had vintage floral wallpaper covering the walls, an old velvet tufted sofa the color of the ocean, and there were canvases stacked in one corner that she had been working on. Painting was how she passed her time, he was aware.

Rather than carrying Nedra up to her bedroom, he laid her on the sofa. With one last lingering look to make sure she appeared comfortable enough, he finally made his way back to the castle. He wouldn't be getting a status update on Zosime for at least another few hours, which gave him time to make sure the two alyko sharing his home were secure.

"Penelope, I want you to wear these from now on," he told her, clasping the golden cuffs around her wrists and ankles. They glowed with a brilliant light that smoothed the cuff surface to one without clasps before the light receded and left ordinary looking bangles in its place. She would not be able to remove them herself. That is the way Nedra had designed them.

"Okay," she agreed, looking at the bracelets around her wrists in a daze. His lips curled when the scent of blood once again wafted his way.

"Now go check on August Cady. Once you enter her room, you will forget you were compelled and act normally. Report everything regarding her behavior to me," he told her.

She nodded and turned to leave him. Finally, he would be alone. He would need to drink from someone after this. All of this restraint was sapping his energy.

"Penelope," he growled, squeezing his eyes closed.

He couldn't resist. He deserved it, did he not? He had been dealing with a lot. And she would never need to know. He rose from the bed and walked to her, towering over her as she stood there, wide-eyed and unsuspecting—totally vulnerable in her compelled state.

"Hand me your wrist," he instructed her, and she did as he said. Her wrist was so small and delicate in his hand. "You will feel no pain when I bite you, Penelope," he said quietly, focused on the visible pulse of blood just under the surface of her skin.. He would allow himself to enjoy this.

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