Wolversons Queen

I smile as I dance, the mask firmly in place, sealing my identity and hopefully helping me with my conquest. I turned eighteen today, not that you would think it by looking at my life and how I spent today. People will look at me and see freedom, a city to explore and enjoy. That, though, is a shocking lie. I’m in prison. This city is my prison, and I have no way of escaping and no way of changing things.

I continue dancing with this sweet guy. He has no idea who I am, which I like. If he knew, he wouldn’t be near me. Actually, if he knew, he would likely be screaming, ‘The Princess is here’. Yeah, because the Princess should never be here. I have a list of places I can visit. The rest are no-gos. According to my family anyway. Solace City, my parents’ city, my prison.

My hands pull him closer as I dance. I begin feeling myself relax and smile as we talk. How free can you really be in a city where most people know who you are? And those who don’t? Well, if they even try to touch you, people tell them exactly who you are. That you’re not to be touched. I hate my family, and I hate this f*ck*ng city. Leaning forward, I kiss him, pulling him back into a quieter place. My hands move down his body and remove his belt.

My excitement rises when he allows me to. He turns, pinning me against the wall and kissing me. A quiet moan escapes my lips as I feel his c*ck harden against me and his kiss become more fierce and powerful.

“Are you sure?” His words are stupid. Why wouldn’t I be sure? I need this, I need this so that I know it was my choice who I f*ck.

“Yes.” I don’t want to talk, so I force my lips against his, while his hands slide up my legs to my *ss, palming it.

“Princess!” I hear a man’s voice and groan. I thought I had knocked that f*ck*r out! “Masks off, now! Everyone.” I hear his voice as the room falls silent.

The guy pulls away, hearing it too. “We need to go back out there. He sounds p*ss*d.”

My hands grasp him and pull him closer. “Forget him, just f*ck me.” Hell, this is the closest I have ever gotten. I move forward to kiss him, but he pushes me back.

“Remove the mask.” He looks at me as I shake my head. “It’s you! I’m f*ck*ng dead. I am dead now.” He’s clearly panicking. I guess tonight I won’t be getting f*ck*d - well, not in the sense I want, anyway. Yet, looking at him, I can see the fear in his eyes.

“Stay in here.” Turning, I walk through and see everyone sat without masks on. Reaching up, I unwrap the mask and smile at Dalton. Hell, his head has a gash on it and is bleeding. In my defence, though, I warned him not to follow me.

“Car. Now.” He looks at me, the two guys behind him waiting for a fight. They know the truth. They touch me, they get hurt. Yet, they still have to somehow ensure I follow my father’s rules. Rules I wish he would choke on in his sleep.

“I’m awfully comfy right now. Maybe later?” I sit down and smile. My legs swing up and rest on another chair as I lean back.

“Go see who was with her through there.” Dalton points to where I had come from, and I watch as one of the guys disappears into the room. I hope whoever I was dancing with escaped. Unfortunately, my luck is quickly squashed as I see the guy being pulled out without a chance to get away.

“Name.” Dalton grabs the guy I had almost been successful in f*ck*ng.

“I- I-” He looks at Dalton, stuttering as Dalton moves to pull out a knife. “James, James Wood - Woodley.”

“Okay, well.” Dalton turns to face me. “Princess, you have a choice, walk and get in that car, or this poor lad doesn’t live to see tomorrow once I tell your father and brother what was going on and why your lipstick is no longer perfect,” Dalton threatens me. I look towards James, and I know he doesn’t deserve it.

So, I stand up, walk out, and get into the car. Eighteen years of this sh*t and every new year somehow means more and more people avoid even looking at me or talking to me. It feels like I’m the plague, which I guess I am. But unfortunately, I’m the human plague that will get them killed. So, I don’t speak; I simply stay quiet as the car moves.

“Your father is angry, Princess. You know the list of places acceptable for you to visit.” I look at him, still holding a cloth to his head where he is bleeding. Maybe I hit him too hard? I have been training. They just don’t realise that.

“Yes, places where everyone tells my family every word I say, every move I make. Prison is better than this.” I’m sure it would be. The car stops, and the door opens. I step out and walk into the house, and there he is, my father.

“You know the arrangement, Emmi. You stick to the places you’re allowed. A few more years, and you will be with the Wolversons. I agreed you would go there to marry one of the sons. That is happening.” My father looks at me, clearly p*ss*d off.

“Happy birthday to me as well. Such a great eighteenth birthday! I know my fate, but that fate doesn’t mean I shouldn’t enjoy my life until then.” I stare at him. Once again, he is more bothered about that deal with the Wolversons than he is his own daughter.

“Your fate is not on me, Emmi; it is on how you react when you marry one of them. Unfortunately, that is on you. We won’t be there to protect you.” His words are low.

“What happens if none of them want me? What happens if they decide they want a real woman, not a woman who has spent her whole life living like a child under a microscope!” I will go to them and have no idea about anything because every f*ck*r in this city avoids telling me things or talking to me. Ask your family, Princess, ask your mum, Princess. No, Princess, you can’t have that. I feel the anger build within me, burning through my veins. If he dies, I am free.

He was the one who made the deal with the Wolverson family. He is the one pushing it to happen, so once he dies, I will be free. I can only hope he dies before I am sent to them and told I have no choice but to marry one.

“Go to bed, Emmi, and next time, stick to the places you’re allowed in.” His words are harsh.

Turning, I walk through to my room. Eighteen, I am eighteen, and that was the first time I have ever kissed a guy. It was the first time I got a tiny bit of freedom, and people danced and laughed with me. That was until they saw who I was, then they looked at me like I had just put a target on their heads. I can’t sleep, my mind considers everything, and one thing keeps coming back up.

Freedom, escaping. I know I can do it. With the right amount of money, I can get out, I can pay someone enough to leave once they free me. Who though? The more significant issue, how do I get the money? My parents aren’t stupid. Everyone knows to give me receipts, so I can never hide what I’m doing. I sit down to make a plan, and hope that it will come into action, and I’ll escape before I am handed over to the Wolversons, a family I have never met. I don’t even know if I like any of their sons. Not that I will have a choice, thanks to my dad saying they could have me. An arranged marriage in exchange for helping to save his city. Of course, the Wolversons accepted.

I stand in the bar, looking around. I guess I got my point across. Sitting down, I point to the whiskey. Dean nods, shaking while he pours the drink. I would be shaking. I should be. I thought a quick punch and they would leave me alone.

“On the house.” His words are quiet as he continues to shake.

“You’re safe, Dean. I won’t mention how I got this scratch. I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t take orders or like being touched, haven’t I?” I look around the bar, everyone nodding. Jacob sat on the chair, holding his face. That was a mistake, and it freaked me out, but I couldn’t backtrack after it had happened. They would have seen me as weak, and then it would have gotten worse.

“He okay to leave? He won’t mention what happened, will you, Jac?” Dean calls over.

I won’t keep him here. There is a chance he won’t be able to see again. He needs checking, and while I want to say that I hope he is okay and I’m sorry, I can’t.

So, instead, I turn. “Oh, Jac