The Taming

Author's Note: It's always pretty exciting when I get a new trailer. I'm glad that most of you guys, who did watch the trailer, enjoyed it as much as I did. It was suggested to me that 'Helios' by Audiomachine should be The Taming's soundtrack. So it will be. :) Thank you to all of those who reviewed last chapter. This one is for Blue Moon, who reviewed 5 times asking for a new chapter. :)

Chapter Fourteen: Quiet Night

The light outside is growing dim, fading with each moment I roam these hallways. Dinner meal has come and passed, but I noticed that Portia nor Jacob were there at first. Jacob entered the dining hall about a half hour late, looking annoyed with the whole situation. And as for Portia? She never attended the meal.

My dress sweeps against the cold marble floor as I walk across the sun hall, a bridge above the castle courtyards held together with powerful stone and tall, wide windows which filtered through bright rays of sunlight. I let my braid fall away as my long tresses caress my back. From here I can see almost everything. The beautiful misty mountaintops can be seen from where I stand as the sun, sinking lower in the sky, bleeds magnificent orange and red colors into the sky.

I splay my palms against the cold stone rail of the sun hall and lean over the side. Far away I can see the training yards, elevated on a grassy platform several feet above the ground. The guards are there training. There are the rows of dummies with bloody red x's painted over the place where their hearts would be. They pick up their sharpened spears and throw, hitting those curséd x's each and every time.

Cheers and chants and clinking sounds of wine bottle to wine bottle.

I blindly blink through the sunlight, tinted yellowish from the dying day. I let the warm breeze caress the skin on my face. I watch them throw their spears and laugh and drink, sharpen their swords and then repeat. But he catches my eye as always. He is the most beautiful one there, standing tall and valiant next to his companions.

He picks up a spear and examines the tip. Then he puts it down, opting for the dagger instead. He nods his head and pinch-grips the blade, steadying in on his target. The rest cheer him on with hoots and hollers. When he reels back and lets the blade go, it goes soaring past the x. Past the x, but hits the eye socket dead on.

Shivers run through my body. He knows his weapons, how to wield them, how to kill with them. Samuel, Emiline's love, is there too. He throws spears into the dummies with force while Lahote and Clearwater spar with their swords.

I lick my lips and sigh. I wish I could be there with him. I don't understand imprinting. All I understand is that my heart yearns for his touch, and to be loved by him. Suddenly, I can see his head turn towards my direction and his eyes meet mine. Even with the distance we share, we feel the tension. The need to be close to one another.

Lahote turns and whispers something to Jacob which makes him turn away from me to pick up a spear. He chucks it and it goes flying through the ear, and this time pierces the heart of the dummy. The spear protrudes of the dummy's back and nearly falls out. I'm surprised at his sheer force.

He grabs another spear and skewers the dummy's mouth the same way he did with the eye socket. Then he looks back up at me. Lahote hands him his sword but when he makes eye contact with me, he quickly disregards his weapon and goes towards the edge of the platform. He sticks his hand up into the air and waves me down.

I straighten a little, trying to see what he's saying. "Come down," he mouths. Do I go? With all of his men there, too? Portia's somewhere in this castle. Where is she? The guards are bound to talk, too. I don't know them and they're bound to let this fall from their lips. I'm about to decline his offer, but he gives me a reassuring smile. "Come down," he repeats. "Don't worry. Trust me."

I turn on my heel and walk out of the sun hall, the beams of hot, dim sunlight flashing against my being. I do. I do trust him.

0o0o0o0o

"Men," comes his booming voice. "Duzu aurkezteko nire lagun bat nahi nuke." (I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine.)

My heart nearly pounds out of my chest as they all turn their feverish, fiery gazes upon me. Some leer, some smirk, and some shake their head. I look up at him for some kind of reassurance. He nods his head and smiles.

"Hello," I say, my hair whipping with the summer breeze behind me. "I'm Isabella."

They look me over and nod their heads. Lahote steps forwards to Jacob. "Anaia, zer dama Portia of? Izan bere, beraz, laster ahaztu zurea tarta berri honekin?" He gestures towards me crudely. (Brother, what of the lady Portia? Have you forgotten her so soon with this new tart of yours?)

I know not what Lahote says, but it angers Jacob. "Ez! Ez nirea puta da. Bere tratatzeko egingo duzu alderatuta, Lahote." Jacob growls. "Bere bidean hitza nazkagarri bat zure ezpainetatik jaitsierak, mingaina prezioa ordaindu beharko da izango." (No! She is no whore of mine. You will treat her with respect, Lahote. For if one foul word towards her falls from your lips, it will be your tongue that will pay the price.)

I stand awkwardly as Lahote storms away with a reddened face. I look up at Jacob and he just shakes his head. "Do not worry, maitalea. Lahote is a stubborn man."

I just nod my head. "No, I understand." The rest of the men stay there and watch my every move intently. One steps forward and smiles at me. He offers his hand.

"Hello," he says in his extremely thick accent. He is beautiful and his face is one I'd recognize anywhere. "I am Call. Embry Call."

I take his hand in mine and nod my head. "Hello." I don't like him. I know what he's done to Angelina, and how he won't accept her child. Jacob senses my discomfort and squeezes my shoulder. Then there's a boy, a young boy that's perhaps the same age as I am.

"Clearwater," he says. "Seth Clearwater." He's a sunny boy, much unlike the rest of his brooding, lustful pack. It's a splash of color in a bitter gray world.

Then there's Quil Ateara, the warrior who was bitten by an immortal and, on top of that, broke his leg. I notice that it's amputated; they weren't able to save his limb. Now he hobbles over on a wooden peg that's the same length as the other leg. "Pleasure to meet you, Isabella," he says. "You really are as beautiful as he described."

Behind me, Jacob lets out a low growl. Quil backs up a little, innocence his eyes. Samuel finally steps forwards. "This is she?" he asks. Jacob gives a blunt nod.

"Ay."

He looks me up and down and then looks back to Jacob. Then he smiles and walks away. I'm confused. I'm confused by this whole situation. Why did he bring me down here? He grabs my wrist and pulls me over to the rack of weapons. They all watch us as we do so.

Jacob picks up a spear and shows it to me. "Ever thrown one?" he asks. I reel back from the spear.

"No," I say. He hands it to me and I have no choice but to take it. He points at the target and nods his head. I aim and then shake my head. "No, I can't do it. I can't throw a spear."

"Don't dismiss it unless you've tried it," he scolds me. I scowl back at him. And just to show him that spear throwing doesn't come the first time, I aim and throw my spear towards the dummy.

The spear strikes the dummy right through the stomach. I gape and he smiles. "Beginner's luck," I say.

"That, or you're a natural." Jacob retorts.

Samuel calls his name and he parts with me momentarily, leaving me unattended. I look at the layout of unique, foreign weapons on the wooden table before me. There are knives with pointed blades and those that are curves. Spears with triangular tips and spears with tips with sharpened ridges.

When I reach for one of the spears, a copper-toned hand juts out and pushes my hand out of the way. I look up and see one of the men standing there. "Ez. Don't touch that one; it's poisoned tipped. Ergelak puta." (Stupid whore.)

I know who he is; it's Lahote. He shakes his head, his face reddening. "I didn't know it was poison," I say.

"S'pose you did not. You should not even be down here, with him. When we are training we do not want to have to watch over his putak." Lahote spits. I back away from the table, feeling entirely unwelcomed. He laughs when he realizes that I'm afraid.

I narrow my eyes and shake my head. "You are angry," I whisper.

"You do not miss much," he sneers back at me. "You should go. You do not belong here."

My face reddens. Suddenly, before I can register what's going on, Jacob marches over to the table and shoves Lahote hard in the chest. The spear that he held falls out of his hand as he stumbles backwards with the force of the blow. "Ez dut uste ulertu duzu, Lahote. Ba falter nire hitzak dut?" (I don't think you understand, Lahote. Did I falter with my words?)

Lahote growls and regains his composure. "Zer zen ustezko dut, zer egin Black? Pozoi-tipped lantza ukitzeko zorian izan zen. Bere gorde dut bere burua! Emakume bat lekurik ez behera hemen." (What was I supposed to do, Black? She was about to touch the poison-tipped spear. I saved her from herself! A woman has no place down here.)

"Al duzu inoiz nire emakume hitz hori horrela berriro bada, zure hizkuntza kostua etorri da. Duzu argi da hori?" Jacob asks. (If you ever talk to my woman that way again, it will come at the cost of your tongue. Is that clear to you?)

Lahote folds his muscular arms and scowls. Jacob turns away and grabs my arm, motioning for me to come with him. I have no idea what he just said to Lahote, but he seems to be fuming mad. Quietly, I can hear Lahote mumble something.

"Ondoren, zure puta agian behar duzu mantendu leash baten gainean." Lahote snickers. (Then maybe you should keep your bitch on a leash.)

I can barely register what happens next. I hear a sickening crack, a howl of pain, and then Lahote writhing on the ground with his hands cupped to his nose. Jacob is shaking, being held back by Samuel and Seth.

"Ez da merezi du, Jacob." Samuel says. (It is not worth it, Jacob.)

Seth nods his head. "Bai, esan duzu zure bakea. Hartu Bella eta utzi duzu filmea aurretik." (Yes, you have said your peace. Take Bella and leave before you shift.)

Jacob breaks free from Seth and Samuel's grasps. "Fina naiz," he whispers. When the go to grab him, he yells, "Fina naiz!" He walks past Lahote on the ground, whose noise spouts blood like a fountain does water, and spits on the grass beside him. (I am fine. I am fine!)

Then he turns his back and pulls me along with him, ignoring the stares from all of the other men.

0o0o0oo

He sits on his bed, staring out at the darkening skies through the window ahead of us. Jacob hasn't said a single word since the blowup at the training fields. "Are you alright?" I ask him.

He simply nods.

"What did you say to him back there? What did he say to you?" I poke. "Why'd you hit him?"

"Don't worry," he murmurs, giving a little smile. "You shouldn't worry about anything."

I bite my lip and sit down on the bed next to him. "You haven't said a single word until a few seconds ago. You know I can't understand your language...I want to know."

"You'd be better off if you didn't know," he whispers to me. "So don't ask me again."

I stare at him with my brows scrunched together in defiance, but once I realize that he's not going to budge, I let it go. He grumbles something about the heat of the room before going to open one of his windows.

I watch him as he gets up from the bed and uses his powerful hands to push the windows outwards and let the breeze flow in. His bed is lined with fur stripped from the backs of bears and mountain cats. His room has the heads of great animals mounted on the walls, bones crafted into a magnificent chandelier and swords placed in an 'X' above his hearth.

The baggy tunic that he's wearing does little to hide his skin from my eyes. I can see the patterns of the jagged, fleshy scars on his back. They are numerous and gruesome in appearance. The back of his tunic hangs low and I can see a scar stretching out of the top of the shirt.

I walk from the bed and pad over to where he's standing near the window, hunched over and peering out into the darkening world. I hesitantly lift my fingers and touch that very scar that ran from the middle of his back upwards to his neck.

His skin is sizzling hot as always. He whips around and grabs my fingers before I can touch him more. "What are you doing?" he gasps, his eyes widening. His grip on my wrist intensifies.

I look down at his hand clutching my wrist with my eyes wide open with shock and pain. "Touching you," I whisper. He looks absolutely terrified, for some unknown reason.

He lets me go the instant I whimper in pain and twist in his grasp. He calms down and shakes his head. "Don't," he whispers. "Don't touch them."

I look at the floor in embarrassment. "Did I hurt you?"

Jacob laughs at this. "Hurt me? No," he murmurs. "Not in the least. I…"

I turn my chin up and look him in the eyes. His black orbs are full of emotion. "You what?"

He clears his throat. "I...I just don't like them being touched." The muscles in his cheeks jump as he tenses his jaw. "Usually if, or when people touch them, they throb like my skin's just been reopened again. Hurts like bloody hell. Hurts like father's whipping me all over again."

My face turns bright red and I look away. "Gods above Jacob, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to cause you pain, or rekindle those memories…"

He goes to me and cups my face in his hands. "Ez, Bella. You didn't let me finish." So I wait there and I look up at him, waiting for him to finish. I hold his wrist with my hand and nod my head. He swallows thickly. "When you touch them, it doesn't make them hurt."

I furrow my brows and grip his wrist a little tighter. "Jacob, I...I don't understand."

"I don't understand it either," he replies. "It doesn't make any sense, what you do to me."

0o0o0o0o

Night comes quickly in the castle. I visited Emiline after my time with Jacob and she told me excitedly about her betrothal to Samuel, the guard. He'd asked to her to marry him earlier that afternoon during a stroll through the forest on the outskirts of Canavar. She'd gushed to me how romantic it was and how she wanted the wedding day to come tomorrow.

She told me that Samuel is well respected in the kingdom and she would take great pride in being his wife. She tells me that she is having a beautiful silk and crystal wedding dress made in the faraway mountain kingdom of Arabor. Arabor, being a mountain kingdom, mined jewels deep within and had a surplus of treasure in their castle.

Emiline said the dress would be beautiful. She said she'd have a grand ball and invite many a person to witness her marriage to the most respected warrior in all of Canavar. I don't think I've ever seen someone as happy as she.

A little after ten o'clock came the knock on the door from the servant. He told me that Prince Jacob requested my presence down in the throne room. I'd looked at Emiline and she'd nodded her head and smiled at me because she knew that anything to do with her brother meant good.

"You make him a different person," she'd told me right before I'd left. "I don't know if you see it, but I do."

I think about her words as I walk the long hallway, lit only by bright burning torches. The windows are left open to avoid overheating the castle. I can hear laughing echoing from the throne room. The two great doors were left open. It's dark inside of the castle, only dimly lit from the blazing torches.

Emiline gave me a white dress with gold beading around the middle to wear. She insisted that I wear it to go see Jacob with. I didn't know why and when I tried to question, she scolded me. I decided to trust her.

I can hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the night and whippoorwills singing their nighttime song. When I finally step into the light, I can see Jacob and his men laughing and clinking their wine goblets together. They speak in Canavarian, and I cannot understand them.

I don't know if I should speak up or just stand here until someone notices me.

I don't need to. Jacob's head whips my direction as soon as my mouth opens. The rest of the guards fall silent and turn their hardened black eyes onto my form. My face instantly turns red. Lahote sees me and eyes me up and down, smiling evilly to himself. Jacob clears his throat. "Be gone. All of you."

The guards take their wine glasses and exit the room through a door behind the thrones. Now it is just us two, alone in the glorious throne room. I blink a few times. It is so beautiful at night, the gold from the thrones shining from the firelight radiating from the magnificently giant hearth in the room. "You called me down here." I say.

"Come here," he replies.

So I walk forwards and walk until I reach him. He waits for me by the throne. His eyes roam over my body and his lips break out into a slow smile. "The dress," he murmurs. "It is new?"

I nod my head. So he noticed. Emiline gave me the dress for a reason. "Yes, new." I murmur.

"You look...ravishing." He swallows a lump in his throat and becomes red in the face, like he was going to say something but at the last moment decided not to.

I blush and duck my head a little. "Why did you summon me here?" I ask. When he doesn't answer right away, I look around the room. "Where is Lady Portia?"

"In bed," he replies.

I slowly nod my head. The sounds of crickets and soft chirps of birds invade the hall through open windows. The night's serenade is truly beautiful. "You still haven't answered my question."

Again, he ignores me. He gestures towards the great throne and gives a little half smile. "One day I'll sit here. One day they'll chant my name, and they'll write my names down in the history scrolls."

He climbs the steps up onto the platform where the thrones are and sits down on his father's throne. He puffs out his chest and makes a face. I laugh at him and shake my head. "You'll make a wonderful king," I say. "As long as you make that face every time you order someone around."

He too, laughs at this. "If you wish it, my lady."

I smile and stare at him. He sits on the throne so valiantly already. He is the epitome of beauty, with his black hair tied back into a bun, wisps of black strands kissing his cheeks. His full lips purse as he gives me a smug smile. He's noticed me staring.

I turn bright red and look away. Suddenly I feel uncomfortable in the dress. Its low cut 'V' shaped neckline shows more of my breasts than I am comfortable with. Now he is the one staring. I decide to play it off like I am not uncomfortable. "See something you like, my prince?"

Where I was supposed to catch him off guard, he turns the conversation around and catches me off guard by saying something completely unexpected.

"Everything," comes the husky reply.

My eyes widen and I laugh a little nervous laughter. "You sir, tread dangerous ground." My voice comes out a lot breathier than I'd intended it to be. I'm flustered and he knows why.

So he plays along with it.

"I don't quite think I'm the one treading dangerous ground, little minx," he grinds out in his deep bass. There's that goddamn nickname again. He tips his chin down and raises a black brow at me. "I don't think you realize who's the prey and who's the predator."

My breathing picks up and my whole entire core starts to throb.

"Why'd you bring me down here?" I ask once more. And once more, I receive no answer.

I bite my lip and turn my head, trying not to look as flustered as I am. He groans softly. "It drives me crazy when you act all shy. I know you're not. I know better than that, don't I?"

I didn't think it was possible to turn a darker shade of red but I do anyways. He lifts his wine glass, preparing to take a drink, but I snatch it away before he can do so. I take a sip of his wine while staring him in the eyes the whole time.

"You test me?" he asks.

"Perhaps." I reply.

He reaches out for me and I avoid his touch. "Torturer," comes his growl.

I hand his wine glass back to him and nod my head in thanks. "It's not my intention to torture you, my prince."

"Yet it's the sole thing you're doing," he whispers, his black eyes practically pooling with his lust. My heart speeds up in my chest. I want to touch him. I want to kiss him.

"Why did you call me down here?" I whisper quietly. He comes forth and wraps his arm around the small of my back, pulling me closer and burying his nose into my hair. "You had to have had a reason." He places his hot lips onto my neck and kisses my pulse softly.

He's silent. He kisses the length of my neck until he reaches my jaw, tipping my face upwards with his thumb. "Why won't you just-"

He pulls us close together and stares straight into my eyes. "Why do you ask so many questions?" And his lips crash down upon mine with all of the love and passion he'd built up inside of him for the past five minutes. I open my mouth in shock and he takes advantage of the opportunity and plunges his tongue within my mouth to taste me.

He tastes like mulled wine. He can't seem to get enough. His hands slide up and down my sides and he pushes me back towards the thrones. Then he spins us and he sits in his father's throne, our lips still locked, and pulls me into his lap. I'm shocked at first and try to pull away, but his arms hold me tight and prevent me from moving.

"Trying to escape are we?" he chuckles. I'm flustered and aroused and I've lost all of my words. He holds me around the waist and stares at me up and down. Suddenly, I feel something poke against my inner thigh. With widened eyes, I realize what it is.

I'm straddling his hips like one would saddle a horse. My dress rides up to the middle of my thighs and shows a little too much of my breasts. I shake my head and pull away from him. This time he lets me go, a little apologetic. "It's improper," I whisper. "Someone could walk in and see us and-"

He shakes his head. "No, I know. I acted like an animal there. I shouldn't have came onto you like that."

My face reddens and I bite my lip again. It's somewhat of an instinct for me. I shake my head at him. "No, Jacob…"

He shakes his head and curses at himself. "Damn, I should have been-"

"I liked it."

"I know that you...wait, what?"

I smile at him and nod my head. "I like kissing you. But next time, just make sure it's where no one can see us."

He growls at this. "Will do, honey."

The torches in the hall provide some light for the darkening throne room. It's almost ten thirty. I watch him as he lounges in his father's throne. I smile a little. "All that's missing is a crown," I say to him.

He grins at this. "I know." Then he sits up a little straighter. "Should be getting one soon enough."

I tilt my head to the side. "I don't quite understand."

He points to the smaller throne beside his. "Want to sit down?" I shake my head at first. "Sit," he tells me a little more sternly.

"It's not place to sit on a royal's throne." I argue.

"Well, it's not your place to argue with a royal either. So sit, I beg you." Jacob says. I don't want to make him angry, so I step up onto the platform again and sit in the throne next to him. I look up at him from my seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He examines me sitting in the chair and breaks into a slow smile. "Relax."

I look out before me and grip the armrests of the throne. "Tell me."

"My father is sick. Dying. But I already told you that, didn't I?" Jacob looks over at me, his hair falling into his eyes.

I nod my head. "I believe so."

He plucks up his wine glass and downs the rest of the liquid in one sip. "Well, the medics said he'd be gone within two months. That doesn't leave me much time. I need to be ready. And if the immortals are making a comeback? I need to step up my game."

I nod my head. The thought of immortals lurking in the dark sends chills down my spine. But knowing that I'm with Jacob, one of the strongest shapeshifters in all the land, makes me feel safe. "I don't need to be a magicman to see into the future to know that you'll be a great king." He gives a flimsy half smile and nods his head.

"I'm glad you think so," he says. "Most doubt whether I will be able to take after my father and grandfather."

I chew on my lip. "No, just think. This grand hall filled with people on your coronation day. This hall packed with warriors chanting your name, waiting to be led into battle. You'll have your servants who will live to serve you, and your warriors that respect you, and...and you'll have your wife, right here next to you."

My face burns bright red because I know in the end it could never end up to be. Loving Jacob, shapeshifter Prince of Canavar, was like the gentle moon loving the ambitious sun. He nods his head and leans back in his throne. He seems to be pondering my words.

I get up out of the throne and brush off my dress, smoothing out any wrinkles that it might have. "Well, I ought to leave."

"I wish you wouldn't," he replies.

"But it's late," I murmur. "I have to wake early tomorrow."

He nods his head and stands up. "You'd leave me without blessing me with your sweet lips one last time?"

I laugh a little and step up to the platform on which he stands. He cups my face in his hands and caresses my cheek with his thumb. He presses his full lips down upon mine and savors my breath until I can't breathe anymore. Then he kisses my nose and smiles. "She must be wondering," I whisper, pushing him away.

"Who?"

"'Portia," I say. "Have you forgotten your blonde tart already?"

"Perhaps I have, eh?" he grins.

I shake my head and smile. "I must go."

"Depart and you will break my heart," he says in mock sadness, jesting with me. He opens his arms and tilts his head towards the ceiling.

I laugh. "Then your heart I shall break."

"Nay, break not my heart, but perhaps a china bowl. Or a stick, or a cup. Ne'er break my heart, little one." He feigns sorrow and I laugh.

"Be gone with you," I laugh. "Good night."

He stops joking around with me and stands straight, giving me a smile. "Alright. Good night, Isabella."

I turn and walk out of the throne room, an overwhelming sense of joy in my stomach.

0o0o0o0o

Now this will be the only update for this week because I'm leaving Friday for Disney World. I'll be gone the whole entire week of the ninth. I wanted to get this one out to you guys before I went MIA for a little :) Please review. I'll get the next chapter out to you asap.

Courtney xx