King of Masters by Brynn Ford

CHAPTER 18

Stella

I MARCH BACK toward the castle, though I don’t want to go back inside. That labyrinth of halls and rooms is my prison. He calls it my home, but I can’t fathom how he could ever think it would be. He’s trapped me here. I’m trapped with a criminal I thought I was falling in love with.

My heart pounds against my ribs, stress grabbing hold of me and stealing my breath. I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the lawn, place my hand over my aching heart, willing it to slow and steady as my head bows.

“All right there, Stella?”

My head snaps up at the sound of the unexpected voice. Declan must have just come out from the ostentatious home. He crosses the stone patio just outside the French doors to meet me on the grass. I don’t feel the need to run from him—his presence doesn’t ripple with threatening energy like some of the O’Sheas, but I’m still wary of all of them.

“Fine. I’m fine. Just coping with being ripped from my life and being held captive in a foreign country, but I’m fine.”

The side of his lips twist into a half-smile. “Yeah, I suppose I wouldn’t be feeling all right in your shoes.” He looks off behind me and my head turns to follow his gaze.

Murphy trudges toward us, Bailey walking along beside him, and my pulse quickens with each of his steps. He stops for a moment when he reaches us and casts me a glance that shows some hint of pain behind his eyes, but I refuse to feel sorry for him.

“Stay,” he tells Bailey, pointing in my direction.

Bailey comes to sit beside my feet and then Murphy turns to leave. He stalks past, tugging my heart along after him like a magnet. But then, when he’s far enough across the stone patio, his hold on it breaks, and my heart snaps painfully back into place. I exhale heavily as he disappears through the French doors.

Bailey rubs her nose against my fingertips, looking for affection, as I finally start breathing again. I turn my palm, letting her nuzzle her nose against my hand.

“I think it’s important for you to know that Murphy is a good man,” Declan says. “He was born into his role. He could never have chosen differently for his life.”

“I suppose you want me to believe that he would have if he could.”

“No, you can believe whatever you want. You’ll never understand him completely.”

For some reason, I feel offended by that. “I understand him well enough.”

“Well enough for what? To decide that you hate him because he never had a choice for who he would grow to become?”

“Everyone has a choice. He has power and privilege. You can’t fool me to believe otherwise.”

“You’re right about that. He has more power and privilege than any man deserves to have. But you need to understand something, Stella. The man you met, the one you talked to on the phone all this time…he’s the same man who chose you and brought you here to be his. In his role, he’s meant to be appointed a suitable bride when he’s forty. He petitioned to have a bride of his own choice five years before he was ever meant to have one because he wanted you that much.”

“And I’m supposed to feel good about that? That he chose to kidnap me and force me to marry him?”

“If you understood our lives…the O’Sheas, the four families…you’d understand why he chose you. You’d understand how much he needs you. Even if some members of the family disagree.”

“If they don’t want me here, then why did he bring me? Why would he make me join a family who doesn’t want me?”

He sighs. “When Murphy was a child, he put on a mask so that he would look like they do. The mask never came off...not until he met you. Every time he looks at you, I see the mask slip.” His eyes shift from side to side—as if he’s watching for someone who shouldn’t be listening—and he leans forward. “He needs you to rip it off for good and let him blow up the world.”

I lean back at the intensity of his words.

Blow up the world?

I don’t understand exactly what he means, but his words are too powerful to ignore.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

His head bobs and his gaze softens. “You only just arrived. There’ll be plenty of time for you to see it all for yourself.” He pauses and I watch the switch flip behind his eyes, changing him from serious to jovial. “Anyway, have you eaten yet?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Well, come on. Let’s go grab something from the kitchen. You could probably use a break from his brooding anyway, yeah? Fancy eating outside? It’s a lovely day.”

I am hungry and it is beautiful outside. And Declan’s energy is far more palatable than Murphy’s intensity. I don’t want to be scavenging around for food with the threat of running into anyone else I don’t know.

“Yeah, fine.”

Declan and I cross the lawn and the stone patio and head back inside. He holds the door open for me like a gentleman, though in my current state, I want to scoff at him. I have to remind myself that none of this is Declan’s fault. It’s not like he kidnapped me—though I suppose he must have known Murphy’s intent and did nothing to stop it.

“Did you always know he was planning to take me?” I ask as we turn and walk down the tiled hallway on the first level.

“Yes.”

“Did you ever discourage it?”

He runs his hand through his dark hair. He looks more like his mother than Murphy and Cormac do. “I encouraged him to consider what it would do to you, but I never protested his decision. You have to understand something. He’s the O’Shea Head of House. The born leader of our family. His say is final, and it can’t be argued with.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have tried.”

He stops and turns to face me, putting his hand on my elbow to halt me. “Stella, I’m sorry. I know it’s right shit for your end of this, but I wouldn’t have stopped it. You can’t understand how much your presence is needed here yet.” His eyes shift again as he speaks, nervously combing his fingers through his hair. “But just pretend I never said that,” he adds with a grin.

I’m compelled to return his smile, though I’m wary to connect with anyone here. Still, I feel a natural comfort with Declan. “Yeah, maybe your family does need the presence of a strong woman who doesn’t put up with bullshit, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he kidnapped me.”

Declan’s head inclines. “Did he though? Really? I hear he asked you to go on a trip with him to visit his family in Ireland, and you said yes. And here you are…in Ireland, meeting his family.”

I expect to feel anger bubbling in my chest, but it doesn’t boil and burst. Declan’s tone is tinged with sarcasm and the small smile playing at his lips hints at humor.

“The key word here is visit,” I emphasize. “I agreed to visit the family. Not be trapped here and forced to marry against my will. I mean, honestly, do you all really expect me to just stay quiet and go along with this? I’m going to escape.”

“What are you gonna do?” He starts walking again and I move with him. “Climb the fence?”

“Maybe.”

“It would be a waste of your time.”

“Maybe not.”

He lets out a breath, then nudges me with his elbow. “I think you’re a stubborn one.”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Classy as hell, too.”

I can’t help the tiny chuckle that slips out past my lips. I can’t stop myself from nudging him back with my elbow. “Don’t try to be my friend. It won’t work. I won’t feel sorry for you when I go to the police.”

“I’ll be impressed if you make it that far. If you can talk the guards into doing anything other than bringing you right back here to us, I’ll die of shock.”

“Then prepare to die, Declan.” I pause. “Wait…what? Why would the police bring me back here?”

“We have a lot of money. I think that’s explanation enough.”

“Jesus, fuck. You don’t have that much money.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m not letting that stop me.”

He holds up his palms. “I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just trying to tell you that it’s a waste of time.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have plenty of time to waste.”

Murphy told me it was impossible.

Declan warned me it was a waste of time.

But I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.

Murphy brought me back to the bedroom at nightfall, and then he left me to my own devices. He showed me how to lock myself into the room, informing me that only he would be able to get in if it were locked. I suppose that was meant to make me feel safer, but if he could still get in, it was no safe space at all.

He showed me how to lock and unlock the door from the outside if I wanted to leave and return later, and then he left me alone for the night.

He left me alone.

As if he had no fear of me roaming freely around the grounds, no fear of me escaping. I didn’t know if that was because his security truly was that thorough or if he was just that arrogant to think I wouldn’t try anything.

And I did try, but fuck, Murphy and Declan were both right.

It was an impossible waste of my time.

I’d crept out of the castle, darted down hallways, and dodged shadows until I found the foyer and the main entrance where we’d come in earlier today. I’d run down the stone steps two at a time and followed the gravel driveway, jogging the mile to the securely gated entrance at the end. Massive black metal gates hung secured to stone columns, which were connected to a slightly shorter stone wall that stretched on far into the night in both directions.

Atop the stone columns were security cameras, which I’d only spotted because of the blinking red lights. I’d turned away from them and skirted alongside the tall metal fence that was affixed to the stone wall. I padded across soft grass until the spotlight that shone at the center of the gate faded, until I was completely shrouded in darkness.

I climbed up onto the four-foot-tall stone wall, gripping the black metal bars cemented into it. I attempted to climb it. I actually reached the top of it once, but I hadn’t thought through how I would get over the barbed wire. It didn’t matter, though. By the second time I scaled to the top without falling, security had arrived. They flashed a light on me before I heard them approach and it spooked me so much that my grip loosened, and I fell.

I did a spectacular job of it, too.

My knee caught the top of the stone wall on the way down, slamming against it and ripping a hole in my jeans, taking some of my skin and blood with it. I’d hit my arm pretty hard as I tried to catch my fall, too—not that any of that would deter me from trying again later.

The security guards who found me walk on either side of me as they march me forward down the hall. We come to a stop at Murphy’s office door, but it’s already open wide. I see Murphy leap to his feet from behind his desk, quickly striding forward to greet us. His eyes land on mine and worry lightens the gray before giving way to anger. He steps aside. “Bring her in.”

The guard tries to grab my elbow but I shake him off, stepping inside Murphy’s office on my own. He points to the armchair across from his desk and I move to sit. My knee does actually hurt so I don’t feel the urge to be defiant about taking a load off.

“Leave us alone,” he says, and I hear the door click shut behind me after the guards leave. Murphy circles around in front of me and I raise my chin to look up at him. “Are you satisfied now?”

“No, I’m not satisfied. Obviously, I failed tonight, but I will try again.”

“Try all you want. You’ll get the same result.” He moves behind his desk, reaching down to pull something out of a drawer—it’s a small white box with a familiar red mark that shows it’s a first-aid kit.

He arrives in front of me again, towering where he stands, glowering down at me as I look up at him with fierce determination. Perhaps I shouldn’t look in his eyes anymore—I’m trying to convey that I won’t back down but seeing his otherworldly gray-green stare still kicks up speckles of desire within my core that swirl like a vicious tornado inside me.

I hold my breath as he kneels at my feet. He sets the kit on the side table beside the chair and pops it open. He pulls out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze, then pauses to look me over. My skin hums beneath his gaze, awareness prickling where his eyes track.

He reaches up, his fingers grazing my forehead, the gentleness making me flinch as he grips the stem of a leaf and plucks it from my tangled hair. “One thing I like about you, Stella…you never do things halfway.”

A compliment…that was unexpected.

“I heard you scaled the fence twice before they found you.”

“I almost made it over before that asshole spooked me with his flashlight.”

“Really?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You almost made it over the barbed wire? Your clothes are in decent shape…Tell me, were you hovering over it?” He quirks a smile and I hate it—I hate it because it makes me want to smile back at him.

“I scaled a ten-foot fence of vertical bars. Please, tell me how much better you would’ve done.” I roll my eyes.

“I wouldn’t have bothered to try, but I’m impressed by your effort.”

He pours rubbing alcohol on some white gauze as he inspects my knee. I look down at it, too. There’s a gaping hole in my jeans that exposes my entire kneecap, and the skin is raw, scraped, and bloody.

“This might sting,” he warns before pressing the gauze to my wound to clean it.

I tense at the way it burns, but more so at the way he cares for me. He kidnapped me. He’s forcing me to marry him. He’s a criminal, a lying asshole, but his touch is gentle as he tends to my wound.

He does care about me, but it doesn’t matter.

He’s taken my power from me and that’s unforgivable…it has to be unforgivable.

“I don’t need you to be gentle about it.”

His brow furrows as he glances up at me from beneath his lashes. “Did you want me to pour it on? Fuck, Stella.” He shakes his head but continues to diligently clean my wound. When he’s satisfied with my knee, he sits back on his heels and looks at me. “Where else are you injured?”

He looks different there on his knees, gazing up at me, asking me to tell him where to fix me. It’s not my physical injuries I need him to fix. It’s the emotional wounds he’s caused that need to be healed, but that will never be possible. I will never heal from what he’s done to me, what he’s done to us.

“Stella, you can tell me where you’re injured or I can strip you, inspect you, and figure it out for myself. Which would you prefer?”

Air catches in my lungs as a flash of wanting burns behind my eyes—a bursting vision of the man I thought I knew stripping me bare, looking at me with lust, grazing every inch of my body with his fingers, searching for injuries. My body still craves him. I have to swallow down my desire and force the idea of wanting him to fade away to the back of my mind.

“My wrist,” I tell him. “I hit it on the stone wall on the way down.”

He rises on his knees, reaching forward, gently wrapping fingers around my arm, just beneath my elbow. His touch is soft as he turns my arm, brushing his fingers over my skin in scrutiny.

“Looks like it’s bruising here.” He frowns as his fingers run over the back of my wrist. “We should probably get an x-ray to make sure you didn’t fracture a bone. I’ll have the family physician come in tomorrow morning and look at it for you.”

“Why don’t you just take me to the hospital tonight? They can give me an x-ray now.”

And I can get someone to help me.

He chuckles. “You must think I’m stupid. We have a family physician and an entire health clinic here in the castle. We get a lot of injuries in our business and can’t afford to have medical records.”

“Wow.” My voice drips with sarcasm. “You’ve just thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“I assure you we have. Our trade has been successful for generations. I don’t know why you think you’re so special that you’ll be the one to get away.”

I lean forward. “Because I am special, and I will get away.”

“You’re right about one of those things.” His gaze lingers on mine, but then he sighs. “Any other injuries?”

“Nope, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

My head inclines. “Would you be fine if you were me?”

“No, I wouldn’t be. And I don’t expect you to be, not right away.”

“What exactly do you expect of me, then? Do you expect me to just accept this? To accept that you’ve chosen my fate and there is no other choice for me?”

“There never was a choice for you. Not from the moment we met each other.”

“If you really felt something for me, Murphy, if everything between us was real, then why didn’t you cut me off? Why didn’t you man up, cut off contact with me, and let me have my life? If you really loved me, you would’ve let me go rather than condemn me to live a life I didn’t choose for myself…a life as the vilest kind of criminal.” I feel a lump rising in my throat.

He pauses, his eyes intently on mine, never wavering. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of living my life without you…and I have no choice but to be what I am. I was born to be the O’Shea Head of House and that’s what I am. I wanted one thing, one goddamn thing that was just for me, something that I chose for myself. I chose you because I need you, Stella. But I’m not gonna waste my time trying to convince you of that when all you do is argue with me.” He pushes to his feet and holds out his hand for me. “I’ll walk you back to bed.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You don’t fucking haveto!” he snaps. “You can have your goddamn space.”

I flinch at the force of his words. Avoiding his outstretched palm, I rise slowly to my feet, side-stepping to move away from him. My eyebrows lift with disdain. “So generous of you. Really.” I turn my back on him and move for the door. “I’m so glad you have such respect for my needs.”

I reach for the knob as I feel his energy shift behind me. The back of my neck tingles. I feel his approach before his large hands land on my waist, gripping me tight. He whirls me around so fast it makes my head spin. He slams my back against the door and air escapes my lungs in a rush. I try to take in a gasping breath, but then his mouth lands on mine and there is no air to breathe—there’s nothing except the passion he feeds me with his thick, sweeping tongue.

I kiss him back.

I don’t want to, I don’t mean to, but my stupid lips crave the bruising ache of his as we share our anger with one another.

He pushes against me, his body holding mine to the door as his hands come up to cup my jaw. My back arches toward him as his tongue dives, as mine slips past his to make room.

It would be so easy to let him in, to let him kiss me, touch me, make me feel his passion.

It would be so easy…

I turn my head to the side with a snap, breaking our kiss and I instantly regret it. “I can’t. Please…don’t.”

He pants, his breath warm against my ear. His nose draws a trail down the side of my neck, inhaling me deeply. “I want you.”

My insides liquify and melt, a slow flow of molten lava warming my belly and dripping to my core.

“Don’t say that…” I’m breathless. “It’s not fair.”

“Let me have you, Stella.”

You could let him. You could. It would be so easy.

He plants kisses into the crook of my neck, nipping and licking, teasing me until I’m sinking against him. I put my hands on his chest, but I don’t shove. “Please…”

He groans, his hips thrusting forward, his hardening cock grinding against me.

“Murphy…stop.” My voice lacks conviction and my body betrays me, rocking against him, seeking friction.

“Let me taste you. Let me make you come.”

“No,” I whisper but my hips keep moving. “No…” I can’t do this. I want this, but I can’t do this. If I do this, I’ll never forgive myself. I suck in a harsh breath and spit out my words as I push against his chest. “Murphy, no!”

He steps back. Thank God, he steps back because I don’t have the strength to push him away again. His eyes narrow on me in desperation as his tongue runs along his bottom lip.

Fuck.

I want to let him taste me. I want his head between my legs. I want the power of clamping his face between my thighs as I let him devour me and taste me as I come on his tongue.

But I can’t. I can’t let him have that part of me after what he’s done to me.

I shake my head at him as I forcefully swallow down my lust. I press my eyes shut. “No, Murphy. No.”

There’s a beat of silence that stretches on, and I refuse to open my eyes. I don’t dare look at him.

“Fine,” he finally says with a quiet voice that’s filled with pain. “Then leave me the fuck alone so I can work.”