The Taming

Author's Note: Thanks so much for all of the reviews and support! In this chapter you'll see two sides of the story-both Bella's and Jake's. ATTENTION READERS: The Taming now has an amazing trailer up on YouTube. Check out my profile for the link! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Mindless Temptation

"Alice," I say. The feisty brunette just turns her head and walks away from me. I sigh. She hasn't spoken a single word to me ever since she saw Jacob and I talking...ever since I showed the slightest bit of affection towards him and he towards I.

Rosalie looks at me like I'm a goddess and Angelina gives me a pitiful gaze. Alice sets her plate down next to Rosalie's instead of mine tonight. She's fuming. "Alice," I whisper, grasping my fork in my hand. "Alice-!"

She looks up from her plate, her face burning bright red. "What do you want?" she snaps at me.

"I want you to talk to me," I whine.

"I don't want to talk to you right now," Alice pouts.

I shake my head and sigh. "But you don't understand. It wasn't-"

Alice cuts me off. "No, I saw what I saw. I saw how he looked at you and how you looked at him. It was disgusting."

My face gets red and I suddenly feel anger bubbling up inside of me. "You don't even know him!" I yell.

"And you do?" she shouts right back at me, leaning in with her hands on her tiny hips.

I furrow my brows and shake my head. I don't know why I'm defending him like this. He is what he is, and I, as well as everyone else, knows that. But I still know more than Alice will ever know about Jacob. "Why do you care?" I say, lowering my voice as some of the nobles look back at us.

Alice's face turns bright red. "Why do I care? I can't believe you have the audacity to ask that. Bella, you are like a little sister to me! The Prince, Jacob Ephraim Black, is a monster. I know that, and the rest of the ladies do. But the question is...do you?"

"You don't know him."

Alice's eyes darken and she grits her teeth together. "I don't need to know him to see what he does," she hisses at me.

"Whenever I am with him, he is gentle. We are friends. I have not seen-"

Alice lets out a cry of anguish. "So you have been with him more? Oh gods." she covers her face and slams her tiny fist down on the table. The wine glasses all rattle and gather the other maids' attentions. "I am sorry for you."

I narrow my eyes at her. "What?"

She looks up at me with a tear in her eye. "Because you are falling into his web of deceit," she replies. "He is not your friend. His intent is not to be your friend. Oh, foolish child! Soon you will be just another one of them."

I know why she cries. She cries because of Lahote. She cries because she doesn't want him to use me. I bow my head and look down at my plate of food. I grip my fork so tight, feeling unsure of myself. Alice says I will just be used, that I will be another one of Jacob's whores.

A tear slips out of the corner of my eye. "You don't know that," I whisper. Rosalie grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. Alice is still fuming.

"No, you don't know that. He will use you, Isabella! He is already using you. Don't you see? He is going to marry the Lady Portia!" Alice yells.

He won't, I think to myself. He doesn't like her, he told me so. But the evil voice inside my mind says, he could lie.

I look back at the table and see Lady Portia sitting across from Jacob. Her fair face is smiling and her cheeks are rosy red. Her big cerulean eyes roll back towards the ceiling as she laughs at a joke he's made. And he smiles back at her, nodding his head.

My heart aches. I shouldn't care. I shouldn't care that he's with her, because her friends. I should be agreeing with Alice. I shouldn't be arguing about this. I stand up and step away from the table, making my way out of the dining hall.

Too many thoughts, too many doubts.

0o0o0o0o

JACOB

"You have seen the little men from the inlands?" Portia asks me with wide eyes. "Whenever they have festivals in Belgras, the princess would always request a show."

I inwardly groan. "And you would find amusement in watching the imps fall over themselves?" I ask her, my voice monotonous and flat.

She lets out a great laugh, her eyes rolling back towards the ceiling. Then she catches herself and blushes bright red, letting out the rest of her giggles into her white-gloved hand. "Excuse me," she says.

It's comical to me how one woman's laugh can sound so similar to a horse's whinny. I smirk to myself with the joke lingering in my mind. I hear another shout from the table behind me. My mind instantly drifts to Bella, for I know she sits there with the other maidens.

I turn behind me to see the maid Alice with blotchy eyes and anger in her face. And there she is, the one I'm destined to love. Bella looks down at her plate and bites her sweet lip. Portia's soft mewl turns my attention away from my beauty and back to her.

"Have you not had the little men in Canavar?" she asks me with a great smile. Her blonde hair falls around her porcelain face in a way that should make any man lustful, but not I. I shake my head curtly.

"No," I reply. In the pit of my stomach, I can feel that something must be wrong. I stab my fork into a piece of pork, my hand shaking.

Portia seems to notice my odd behavior. She furrows her fair brows and purses her lips together. "Jacob? Are you well?"

I cast a glance over my shoulder, my leg bouncing up and down under the table. I'm fidgety and there's a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stand up abruptly, just as I see her fleeing from the dining hall. I'm confused and my first instinct is to follow her. She must be upset.

"Jacob," my father growls from the end of the table. "Sit down, son." He seems to have noticed my uneasy behavior and Portia's obvious displeasure and discomfort. Frankly I don't care how Portia feels.

I'm reluctant, but denying my father's wish would mean hell for me later. And I'm in no mood to listen to my father's rants about how I need to find a wife because he is dying (the obvious inevitable for every soul on this earth) and take more responsibility of the kingdom.

I sit down in my chair and Portia gives me a soft smile. She decides to continue on the imp story, very probably assuming that I'm interested by it. I stab violently at my pork. She's practically calling me to her like a goddamned siren from wherever she's crying in the castle. I want to go to her. I want to go to her. I want to go to her.

"Aren't they funny little creatures?" she asks me.

"Yes." I stab at the pork with my knife so hard that my plate breaks right in half and the knife embeds itself into the wood of the fine table. Portia gasps and reels back in horror. Seems like I've cut myself in the process. The blood goes bubbling down my finger and I just stare at it nonchalantly because pain is my very last concern.

My father sees my finger and what I've done to the plate and nearly chokes to death on his food. My sweet sister's hand lays over my father's and whispers something to him. I feel like I'm about to shift and my father can see that. "Go with Emiline, son," he says. "She will take you to the medics."

I follow Emiline down the platform and out of the dining hall, all eyes on us. All eyes on me, as usual. Once we are in the safety of the cold hallway, Emiline turns to me and grabs my hand, examining the healing cut. "Are you alright?" she asks me.

I grit my teeth together. "Fine," I say. I grab her arm and lead her further down into the hallway, assuring that no one will hear our conversation. I am still shaking. This scares her.

"What's wrong with you?" Emiline hisses. "Breaking that plate in front of Portia like that. The damned knife went straight through father's table. Are you mad?"

I shake my head and let out a deep growl. "Something's happened, Emiline." I groan softly and shake my head. I never thought it would be me. I never thought it would be her.

"Pray tell, brother," Emiline pleads with me, reaching her hand up and stroking my cheek with the back of her hand. "You leave me here a worried mess. I thought you were going to shift right there in the dining hall!"

The sick feeling gets worse. "I beg you sweet sis, where is your handmaiden?"

Emiline's brows furrow together. "Isabella? Oh Jacob, I don't know. In her room, perhaps." Then a look of realization crosses over her serene features. Her scarred face is painted with worry. "Please tell me you didn't bed her a whore."

"No," I say softly. "No. I'd never."

She bites her lip, staring down at the ground. She stares for a few moments, trying to think up an explanation. After a few moments of painful silence, she looks up with her big brown eyes widened. "You didn't."

"I did."

"You did?" she whispers. "You did!" She opens her arms to me in excitement. I embrace my youngest sibling, who is about the same age as Bella. She clasps her hands on the sides of my face. "See? I told you, brother dear. I told you that you would find it and you have!"

"Bai, bai, arreba." I give a little chuckle, but the pain in my stomach turns the end of the chuckle into a pained moan. "Just...I need to find her. Go back to the dining hall-and tell no one of this, Emiline. Not father, not the twins. Tell him that I am with the medic."

She nods her little head and bites her lip nervously. "Be gentle with her," she whispers. "Your patience will be tested. Trust is key with her."

I nod my head before heading into the other direction.

0o0o0o0o

BELLA

Those awful images flood my mind. Portia in a wedding dress and Jacob kissing her at the grand altar, Portia's children with Jacob, Portia and Jacob in bed. She kisses him and he moans her name.

Merciless mind, I cry out silently.

Just then, I hear a knock at my door. "Who is it?" I ask quietly, trying not to sound like I had been crying like a damned child for the past couple of minutes.

"The one you love," comes the response. I instantly know who it is and my face breaks into a betraying smile at just the mere sound of his voice. I pull myself off of my bed and go to the door. I press my cheek against the door with my hand steadying on the knob.

"Impossible," I say quietly. "For I love no one."

"Nay, you jest." He chuckles softly. "Let me in, little minx. I know your eyes are wet."

My face turns bright red and I'm immediately embarrassed that he's seen me crying. "Not now. I'd rather be alone right now."

"Do you know that you are a terrible liar?" he asks me, his voice sounding muffled through my door.

I frown at this. Why does he seem to know me like the back of his own hand? "Go away." I growl at him, wondering if he'd actually up and go.

"I refuse," comes the response.

"Why don't you ever listen?" I hiss at him. "I don't want you here."

There's a moment of silence, dragged out by the tension of the situation. "If that's how you truly feel...I'll leave."

Suddenly I can no longer feel his warmth against the door and I hear his footsteps traveling down the hallway. I was too mean. I shouldn't have cast him away like that. Panicking that he'd truly leave, I whip open the door and peer out of my room. "Jacob?" I call out for him.

He didn't go far. He turns and smiles, making his way into my bedroom. I let him in before closing the door behind him. He sits down on my bed and I watch him as he licks his lips. "So what's going on?" he asks.

"I don't...nothing." I say, shaking my head. For some reason, my sadness has left my vessel as soon as he stepped foot in the doorway. He frowns at me.

"Tell me," he growls out at me. "I want to know what sadness plagues you."

I sigh and bite my lip. "I don't know if I can do this," I whisper.

"Do what?" he asks.

I avoid the question at first. "Some...find it hard not to speak of you in a foul way," I explain to him.

At this, he laughs a great hearty laugh. "You think I do not know these things?" he wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Someday you will learn to ignore those comments as I have. All I know is that I want you. I want you safe, I want you near, I want you always."

I nearly forget to breathe when he says those things. What is he hinting towards? I can sense that his friendly feelings for me have disappeared. I stare towards the ground and shrug his arm off of me. "Why do you say those things?" I ask him.

"Because I only speak the truth," he replies. I lean into his touch, resting my head against his arm. I wonder how many times he has said very line to other women, and how many women at that? I look up at him and soft brown meet sizzling black. His hand skirts against my cheek and the gesture has my heart fluttering in delight. "I very much want to kiss you right now," comes his raspy whisper.

I stare into his eyes, trying to find some deception, but alas I find none. I sit up a little straighter, making myself a tad taller. "Then…" I whisper. "Then you ought to."

His eyes widen, like he wasn't expecting me to be so accepting of his proclamation. But he does not deny me of my wish. He cups my jaw in his gigantic hand and leans down, capturing my lips in a swift kiss. His lips mold into mine and his tongue invades my mouth in a frenzied tango. I melt into his touch, closing my eyes.

Kissing him is like heaven on earth.

He wraps a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me into his lap, pressing our sweaty bodies together frantically. He tastes my lips like he's never tasted woman before, like a bear deprived of his sweet honey. And quite frankly, I've never kissed like this before. I've never even kissed at all.

I pull back for air, a strand of saliva hanging between our lips. He kisses me once more, one sweet tender kiss before giving me up. I sigh, drowning in my own bliss. I've never experienced something so intimate and sensual.

He leans back against the bed and gives a sly smile, one slow and sweet as molasses. "Do I sin, little one?" he asks me.

I break into a smile and shake my head. "Why must you talk of sin at a time like this?"

He laughs at this and leans his head back into the pillows. "Your touch does things to me," he says. "So much so that I feel like I could kiss you again...and again and again, and never tire of it."

I bite my lip out of instinct and turn bright red, looking down at my hands on my knees. "And you tell nothing but the truth?"

"Mmm. Bai." (Yes.) I smile and blush again. "Bella?" he calls.

"Yes?"

He lifts his massive arms and folds them behind his head. "Tell me why you were upset."

I crawl over to him by the bed and sit right next to him so that his head is level with my thighs. "The truth?"

He nods. "Always."

"I don't remember why." I begin to laugh. At first he stares at me in shock and wonder but then he smiles, shaking his head and joins in with his smooth, deep laughter.

"My mouth can do that," he murmurs. Then he picks himself up and lays his head into my lap. I'm shocked; I wasn't expecting something like this from him. My fingers wind through his soft black hair, brushing sweaty tendrils away from his forehead. He sighs. "I don't want to leave."

I look down at him, touching my cool fingertips to his sizzling hot skin. "Then don't," I reply.

"Portia's looking for me," he rasps out, shaking his head in my lap. "The goddamn woman never lets up."

I furrow my brows together. "How do you know? I thought they were still at noontime meal."

"Trust me," he says. "I know. I'm not one to be ruled by a woman."

"Yet you are," I say, looking at the ground sullenly. "But I understand."

He reaches his hands up over his head and wraps his arms around my pelvis. "My father is dying, Bella," he says. "He deteriorates with each moment we speak. To him, the marriage of Lady Portia to me will lay him at peace...a strong alliance with a strong kingdom through marriage, and many more years of successful reign in Canavar."

I nod my head, trying to understand. "So...you will marry her?"

He doesn't respond at first. This comes like a stab in the heart. "I don't want her," he says.

"But you need her," I whisper.

He looks up at me and shakes his head. "Canavar's survived this long without Belgras's help. Haven't we?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Then that's not needing her, is it?" he smiles up at me and I breathe a little sigh. I lean down and press my lips to his forehead. I don't know what's gotten into me, but kissing him was like heaven and I wanted to do it over and over again.

"Okay," I say, leaning back against the headboard of my bed. "You ought to go before someone comes knocking."

He sits up and turns his body halfway so that he can stare into my eyes deeply. "I'll come back."

I nod my head and blush a little. "I know."

"Minx," he growls. He presses his lips to mine once more before reluctantly departing.

0o0o0o0o

JACOB

I open the door to my room slowly, expecting the sunlight to bombard me, but instead I'm hit with darkness. The curtains have been drawn closed over shut windows. The scent of candle aroma hits me. The only thing that's lighting the room are said candles and the blazing hearth that has no reason to be lit in the heat of this summer.

Someone's been in here. I place a hand over my dagger and step the rest of the way into my room, peering into the darkness. And that's when I see it. Her. I breathe out, my eyes widening. "What are you doing?" I ask. My foot juts out behind me and closes the door behind me.

She's laying on my bed completely naked except for the pile of animal fur in front of her. If it's acting as a slight cover-up to provide some modesty, it's not working. It hides nothing from the eyes. Her pink lips curl into a devilish smile. "You look but don't touch."

A month ago I would have jumped at the opportunity to touch such a fair beauty like Portia. My lust would have taken over my common sense and I would have locked myself in my room with her for a good hour. But a month ago I didn't have Bella...or at least I didn't care.

"You didn't answer my question," I say, walking towards the foot of my bed. I look down at her soft curves and let my eyes roam all over her. Somehow it all feels so...wrong.

She tilts her head slightly, her blonde curls falling over her shoulder. "Shh," she whispers. Then she grabs my hand and draws me closer. She rolls over onto her back and guides my hand to her small breast. "Just touch me. I want you to touch me."

I pull my hand away and shake my head. "Portia, no." I say. "Now is hardly the time." Seeing her naked body would do all sorts of things to any man, and I, unfortunately am human. Though my lust for her gets stronger with the sight of her pert nipples and soft curves, I push myself away.

I don't want her.

She growls and jumps off of my bed, crawling towards me. "Now is a perfect time," she says, her hand cupping my cock through my trousers. I stand still, staring down at her. "Let me pleasure you, my prince."

My hand slowly goes towards her hand and I grip her wrist tightly, making her squeal. I push her hand away and walk away from her. "No," I growl at her sternly.

Her face reddens and she looks down at the floor in shame, reaching for one of my furs to cover herself with. "Who is she?" she whispers, tears bright in her eyes.

"Who do you speak of?"

"That girl," she sobs. "That maid, the one that you can't take your eyes off of."

I turn away and blow out the candles that Portia had lit. When I don't respond she growls quietly.

"Have you been fucking her too?" Portia growls at me. "I'm not her, Jacob. I'm not some mindless whore! She's dirt on the bottom of my feet and if you think for one second-"

I whirl around and growl at her menacingly. "I don't care what you think of her," I boom. "Think all that you want. But don't you ever speak about her in that manner again." I go to my windows and throw the curtains open, nearly blinding Portia with light.

Her tiny hands come up to cover her eyes. She turns away from me. "So it is true," she says with menace in her tone.

"True? No. She is not a whore. She will barely even let me touch her," I reply. "You should not jump to such conclusions. It will get you nowhere, ever."

She goes to her dress on the floor and slips it on over her head, beginning to redress. She does not speak; she refuses to. I could care less. I don't want her. And I don't need her.

0o0o0o0o

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Courtney xx