Chapter 52
Elowen Howard felt a creeping unease wash over her as the plot of *The High Council* seemed to unravel in ways she never anticipated. The story’s trajectory was warping, and she could only watch helplessly as it veered away from what she had come to
expect.
She remembered the scene that had left an indelible mark on her: Alistair Edwards, the
ruthless brooding protagonist, had once been a target of many hearts. After he ascended to power, a young woman desperate to win his affection had attempted to sneak into his bedchamber. She had stumbled and, in her clumsy haste, shattered the precious jade pendant that had belonged to him. The fallout was swift and brutal; Alistair had dispatched her without a second thought, a chilling display of his tyrannical rule.
No one dared to stand against him. He had become a law unto himself, wielding power with a brutal finality that left no room for dissent. One word from him, and life could be extinguished.
As Elowen neared the climax of the book, she noted with growing anxiety that Alistair had never gifted the pendant to anyone–not even the female lead. He had kept it close for over a decade, never once parting with it. Now, the idea of him offering it to her sent tremors through her, not just from honor but dread. If his possessive nature was any indication, once it was around her neck, she might never be allowed to take it off.
Elowen’s heart sank further at the thought; what if she lost it or broke it? What would he do to her? Would she meet the same fate as that poor woman? The specter of violence loomed, chilling her to the bone.
But why would Alistair give it to her in the first place? She couldn’t possibly let her imagination wander down the path of believing he had feelings for her. That would be absurd; she couldn’t think of another reason.
Steeling herself under the weight of his dark scrutiny, Elowen nodded, her voice barely
a whisper.
Alistair’s reaction was one of delight, as he reached out to stroke her cheek, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that infuriatingly charming way. Each time he softened his gaze toward her, a shiver would run down her spine, leaving her heart racing and her
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Difficult to Escape a Doting Wife
instincts on high–alert.
C
C
Once back in the main bedroom, Alistair motioned for someone to bring a handful of red threads. He sat down, his brow furrowed in concentration as he began to weave the strands together. The sight of him so focused, his long fingers deftly manipulating the cords, was unexpectedly captivating. It was a side of him she hadn’t anticipated—so skillful, so careful.
The twist of the fibers came together quickly, and before long, he looked up at her, a smile playing on his lips. “Bring me the pendant.”
Elowen hesitated, her internal alarms blaring as she moved to the cabinet. She opened it carefully, retrieving a small pouch before extracting the jade pendant with trepidation, almost reluctant to hand it over.
With his long, elegant fingers he threaded the red cord through the pendant’s tiny hole before rising to his full height. Elowen barely reached his shoulder, the upward tilt of her head revealing the smirk on his face as he gently fastened the pendant around her slender neck. “Do you like it?”
She touched the cool surface of the jade against her skin, her heart racing in a whirl of complicated emotions. “It’s lovely,” she finally managed, the words tasting foreign on her tongue.
He seemed satisfied, slipping an arm around her waist, drawing her close. His chin rested on her shoulder, and for a moment, the warmth of his body enveloped her. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. “Good. I’m glad you like it.
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“I’m yours now, aren’t I?” the thought slipped into her mind unbidden, though she
didn’t dare voice it.
Despite her repeated entanglements in his embrace, she couldn’t help but tense up, unsure of where to put her hands. Feeling the urge to deflect, she asked, “I heard there are many beautiful girls in Southreach. Did you meet any of them?”
“Don’t give me that. I know you did.” A hint of jealousy vibrated in her voice.
Alistair caught her drift and chuckled, deeming her playful gambit a sign of possessiveness. “Nope, not a soul,” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Difficult to Escape a Doting Wife
possessiveness. “Nope, not a soul,” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You’re lying,” she insisted, unyielding with her gaze. He couldn’t possibly have come back unscathed without encountering someone. That much she was certain of.
He found her little display endearing, lowering his lips to brush against the corner of her mouth. “Not even a glance.”
Feeling deflated but aware she was playing a losing hand, Elowen decided not to press further.
After a while, Alistair left to check on Cedric Edwards. It had been over two weeks since the boy had seen his father, and no doubt, Cedric was missing him.
When Alistair found Cedric, he scooped his son into his arms. The child instinctively wrapped his small arms around his father’s neck, a gleam of joy lighting up his little face. He had spent these long nights sleeping beside his mother and had grown accustomed to her scent, her warmth. Now, with his father home, he felt a twinge of uncertainty: would that routine continue?
“Can I sleep with Mom tonight?” Cedric asked, his voice hopeful.
Alistair didn’t even pause to think. “No.”
The boy’s face fell, disappointment shadowing his features. “Okay…”
Obedient, Cedric accepted the decree, knowing well that his father’s word was law. No amount of pleading would change his mind, not even a puppy–eyed look.
