It’s been nice having him here. It’s been comforting knowing that my pillow smells like him, and that his shoes are lined up beside mine by the front door.
If I tell him now, it’ll ruin everything. The past few weeks have been so, so good, and I just… I can’t bring myself to say the words that will end it all.
Damon wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on top of my head. I nuzzle into his chest and listen to his heartbeat. I’m stuck in limbo, torn between enjoying his company and telling him the truth. I know that once I tell him about the baby, everything will change.
“We’re going to have to tell people that we’re together eventually.”
“I know,” I say.
His arms tighten around me and I take a deep, shuddering breath. My world is falling to pieces around me, and all I’m doing is standing here, watching it happen.
Right now, Prince Damon and I are in a safe little cocoon. No one knows that we’ve been seeing each other—not even Elle. Our relationship has been loving and tender and perfect. We’ve spent every night with each other, and text each other throughout the day. He hasn’t needed to self-harm, and I haven’t worried about being cursed.
But now…
…everything is different. It’s all going to end.
It would be enough of a controversy for one of the Princes of Farcliff to be dating a Raventhal—but to have a baby with me? An illegitimate baby with me?
Scandal-city. Tabloid central. The end of Farcliff as we know it.
Worry knots my stomach. The Prince cups my cheek and presses his lips to mine.
“We’ll figure this out, Dahlia.”
I nod, not believing a word.
“You do want to be with me, right?” His eyebrows arch and his eyes look so clear and sincere that my heart aches.
“Of course I want to be with you.” I choke on the last word as emotion clouds my eyes. I try to fill my lungs up, but it’s hard to take a full breath. I want nothing more than to be with him! Being with him has been like finally taking a breath of air after being stuck underwater. It’s like seeing the sun after being underground for months. It’s like waking up after a bad dream.
Being with Damon is everything I never knew I wanted, and it’s all going to change the minute I tell him the truth.
“Look, if you don’t want to go public with me yet, I understand that. I saw how the media swarmed my brother and Elle. We’re both busy with school and work, and I know that everything will change once people know we’re together.” Damon tightens his arm around me.
“It’s just so perfect now,” I whisper. “I don’t want to ruin it—us.”
“Nothing can ruin us,” Damon says as he kisses me again. “I won’t let it happen. I promise.”
I nod and force a smile, but the sick feeling in my stomach gets stronger and I know that’s a promise that Damon can’t possibly keep.
Damon’s hands slide down to my ass, and I tilt my head up to look at him. He’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. He still makes my pulse quicken. I still want him more than I can explain.
So, for a little bit longer, I want to stay in this cocoon of ours. When I figure out the right words to use to tell him about the baby, then I’ll say them. For now, though, I just press my lips to his and enjoy the warmth of his embrace.
26
Damon
I move back to the castle after my shift at the Farcliff General Hospital. As far as I can tell, no one even noticed I was gone.
It’s okay. I usually keep to myself, anyway. I have no staff, and I spend most of my days studying. Being out of sight for a few weeks wouldn’t be unheard of, so the past couple of weeks at Dahlia’s house didn’t raise anyone’s attention. The entire castle was too busy preparing for the baby to notice anything about me.
Wandering over to our private sitting room, where guests are usually received, I find my brothers with Elle, Dahlia, and her parents.
All eyes turn to me when I walk in. Dahlia’s face brightens, but she stays seated where she is, beside Elle and the baby Prince.
Mr. and Mrs. Raventhal are different from what I’d expected. They’re somber, serious people—nothing like Dahlia. Mrs. Raventhal’s face is creased and aged beyond her years, as if she’s been wracked with stress her entire life.
She has Farcliff to blame for that, I suppose.
“Damon,” King Charlie says, standing. Everyone else in the room stands as he does. “Nice of you to join us. I’d like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Raventhal. We were just talking about how thrilled we are to have them back in Farcliff.”
Introductions are made all around. I take a seat in a chair across from Dahlia. Her eyes dart up to meet mine and a blush creeps over her cheeks.
I hadn’t anticipated that I might actually enjoy being at the castle with her—that I might like sneaking around.
Dahlia crosses one leg over the other, and my eyes follow the movement, my mouth salivating at the thought spreading those legs wide.
How does she do this to me?
I can be in a room full of people—including her parents—and Dahlia still turns me on like crazy. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
I put on my best polite smile and try to act like a normal person in a normal social situation, even though all I can think about is getting Dahlia and her pink-tipped hair back to my chambers. We haven’t had sex in days and there’s been weird distance between us.
Maybe being at the castle is exactly what we need—a change of scenery. A new bed.
When she looks my way again, I try to motion toward the door. Her lips twitch, and I know she understands. I stand up, take my leave, and then slip out through the door.
My heart thumps. I practically run down the hallway toward my chambers. My hands tremble as I reach into my pocket for my phone so I can tell Dahlia where I’m going. My blood is flowing hot through my veins, and the anticipation is making my vision tunnel.
I’m already thinking about her lily-white body splayed out on my bed, her hands twisting into my silk sheets, her screams muffled in my down pillows. Having her here in the castle makes me think about our first evening together, when I broke every single castle rule with her in the throne room.
Yes—being here with Dahlia is a very, very good idea.
They say that texting while walking accounts for at least fifty percent of all pedestrian deaths in Farcliff, and as I turn the corner, I understand why. I walk head-first into another body, jumping back in surprise as we both stumble backward.
“Aunt Malerie!”
“Nephew.” She brushes imaginary dust off her dress. “Where are you going so quickly?”
“Back to my room,” I say, slipping my phone back into my pocket after I hit the ‘send’ button.
My aunt’s eyes don’t miss anything. She watches the movement and then flicks her gaze back to my face. Her eyebrow arches, and she takes a step toward me.
“We’re not so different, you and I,” she purrs.
Maybe, but at least I don’t smell like onions.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, trying my best to sound casual. Three seconds ago, I was thinking of burying my face between Dahlia’s legs, and now my aunt wants to catch up like we’re old friends.
Great.
“Well, we’re both second in line for the throne. Both destined to be forgotten in the history books. Both not quite good enough to wear the Crown.”
“I don’t want the Crown.” My brows draw together and I glance over my shoulder. I don’t want Dahlia to walk up to us now.
“Maybe you think that today, but you’ll watch your brother lap up the adulation of the people, and resentment will fester.” Mal’s eyes darken and her lips twist downward. “You might not feel it yet, but being in second place for your entire life does tend to wear a person down.”
Is this why she’s always so easily offended? Why she’s on edge all the time? Plain, old-fashioned jealousy?
I shake my head. “A
unt Mal, I’m telling the truth. I don’t even stay at the castle most days. I’m giving up my royal title to go to med school. I don’t want the Crown.”
Her head tilts. “If you don’t stay at the castle, where do you stay?”
Something in the way she asks the question makes fear spark in the pit of my stomach. The hair on my arm stands on end, and I try my hardest to keep my breath steady.
I gulp, averting my eyes and shrugging. “I have an apartment in town,” I lie. I don’t want to tell my aunt where I’ve been staying. I’ve already seen the way she looks at Dahlia, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to give Aunt Mal an excuse to hate her—or an excuse for Dahlia to fear my family any more than she already does.
My aunt stares at me for a few more seconds, and then takes a deep breath and seems to relax.
“Did you know the name Malerie comes from the French word malheur? It literally means ‘unlucky’.” My aunt shakes her head, sighing. “It’s all too appropriate.”
“No, I didn’t know that.” I glance up and down the hallway, ready for this conversation to be over. I don’t like talking to my aunt at the best of times, and this is just getting fucking weird.
“You and I should go to lunch one day, nephew. We have more in common than you think.”
“Does my name mean ‘unlucky’, too?”
Malerie just laughs, and another wave of onion wafts toward me. I smile awkwardly and try to motion around her. I already texted Dahlia, and I need to get back to my chambers to meet her. Given the option between standing in a hallway having an awkward conversation with my half-estranged aunt, or taking my girlfriend back to my bed and fucking her brains out, I know which one I’d choose.
It isn’t my aunt.
Before I can move past her, though, her eyes brighten and a cruel smile stretches across her lips.
“Well, well, well,” she says, staring past me.
I feel Dahlia’s hand on my arm before I even turn around to look, and my heart sinks. Dahlia is trembling. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at my aunt. She curtsies delicately, and then glances up at me.
Malerie grins at the two of us. “Is this the apartment in town that you were talking about?”
“Nice to see you, Aunt, but if you’ll excuse me…”
I step around her, giving her a wide berth. She just keeps grinning at Dahlia and I as we shuffle past, and then half-jog down the hallway until she’s out of view.
“What was that about?” Dahlia whispers when we’re a safe distance away. Her hand floats to her stomach almost protectively. The movement looks familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen it before. Dahlia’s eyebrows draw together.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t even know she was in the castle. I thought she left the day of the wedding.”
“She gives me the creeps.”
“Me too.” I put my hand around Dahlia’s shoulders and hold her tight. We make it to my chambers without seeing anyone else, and I lock the door with a sigh.
Dahlia is twisting the fabric of her dress between her hands. She stares at the floor, chewing her bottom lip until I take her hands and place them around my neck.
“Don’t worry about my kooky old aunt,” I say gently. “You’re safe with me.”
Dahlia takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “Yeah,” she says. “Okay. What did she want, anyway?”
I wave my hand dismissively, shaking my head. “She kept saying that she and I were the same, second in line for the throne and always destined to be disappointed.”
“Huh.” Dahlia frowns.
“I kept telling her that I didn’t want the Crown. I want my own life—because you know, a king is history’s slave.”
Dahlia’s eyes brighten and a delighted laugh tumbles through her lips. “Tolstoy!”
I grin and pull her closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to use that. It was the only quote that was short enough for me to remember.”
Dahlia just laughs and lays a soft kiss on my lips. The tension between us eases, and she melts into my arms. Feeling her like this makes me feel like everything will be okay. We’ll get over this stupid family feud. We’ll be together. Everything will be fine.
We lay in bed together, but instead of the crazy, feral sex I’d envisioned, all I do is hold her. I wrap my arms around her as she puts her head to my chest, drawing small circles with her finger. I stroke her hair and kiss her forehead, loving the way she feels in my arms.
As much as she struggles to believe me, I know I’d do anything to keep her safe—from what, though, I’m not exactly sure. I just know that whatever Dahlia is worried about—whatever fears are on her mind—I’ll be right there with her to face them.
27
Dahlia
Seeing Damon’s aunt in the hallway throws me off. She looks at me like I was a fawn in the forest, and she was a hungry wolf.
But Damon holds me until I felt okay again, and then we make love. When it’s over, I look around the rich, ornate furnishings and I wonder if I really belong here. My mother does—she looked at home in the formal living room, perched on the edge of an expensive chaise. My father looked equally as comfortable, eating the rich food and drinking the fine wine that was offered to him.
I’m not so sure. I may be their daughter, but I grew up living a simple life.
Tiptoeing out of Damon’s room at around midnight, I make my way through the silent corridors back to my own guest bedroom. It takes me nearly twenty minutes to get there, because I make a couple wrong turns and end up in the opposite wing of the palace. It’s eerily quiet at night here.
When I finally find my way back to my own room, I climb into bed and breathe a sigh of relief. My ears ring in the silence, and I try to hear a noise—any noise—that might help me fall asleep. At home, there’s always the sound of cars on the road, or the creaking of the house in the wind. Sometimes, I can even hear the scratching of mice in the walls.
Here in the castle, there’s nothing. You’d think it would be easier to sleep when it’s quiet, but there’s nothing to drown out my racing thoughts.
I finally do get to sleep, though. When I wake up to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains, with a tray of fresh coffee on my nightstand and warm slippers ready for me to wear, my attitude toward castle life improves quite a bit.
Staying at the castle isn’t that bad. Dare I say—it’s actually nice. It’s much closer to the Farcliff University campus, so my commute to classes and to the lab is almost halved. As much as I teased Damon about his feather beds, it is nice to have a decent mattress.
After a couple of nights, I even get used to the absolute silence of the night.
My parents stay at the castle longer than expected. The King and Queen are gracious and welcoming, and I watch my parents relax into their old life at the castle. We spend the holidays here as a family. Even my aunts make it to the castle for Christmas dinner.
It’s nice. It feels more and more homey. I try not to think about the baby—I think I’m in denial. Maybe I’m too weak, or too scared, but I don’t want to ruin what I have. Damon and I are happy together, my parents are comfortable in Farcliff, and it finally feels like we have a future here.
After five weeks at the palace, I’m almost used to the feather beds and excessive pomp and circumstance of literally everything. Breakfast is a whole ordeal with silver trays, butlers, and a banquet table loaded with rich foods.
In January, classes start again. I stare at myself in the mirror every morning, wondering if my bump is starting to show. I’m two months pregnant, and I still haven’t told a soul.
Call me weak. Call me a coward. Call me whatever you want—I’ve already called myself worse. For the first time in my life, I get to be with my parents and see them happy. I have a man that I care about—and maybe even love. He cares about me, too.
I don’t want to ruin it. For a few more days, or maybe a couple of more weeks, I just want to cling on to this feeling.
I’ll tell them. I will. Just—not right now.
“Well, they sure do know how to cater,” my father says with a wink one morning.
I slather some crunchy peanut butter on a piece of toast and grin at him. “They sure do.”
I glance over at my mother, who seems to have relaxed a bit. She even has a smile on her face as she sips her morning coffee.
King Charlie enters the room with Elle and their baby. We all stand. Elle glances at me and rolls her eyes—she’s obviously still not used to all this rigamarole. I grin. She’s still the same old Elle. I watch her with her baby, and my heart squeezes.
She’s the same old Elle, with a baby and a husband and a happy life. Maybe that’s possible for me, too?
Damon is still working nights, so I still don’t get to see much of him. He won’t be back at the castle for another couple of hours, and by that time, I’ll be in class. It’s okay, though. We steal whatever moments we can and always make the most of our time together.
“How did you sleep, Mother?” I ask, taking a seat next to my mom.
When she turns to look at me, her eyes are clear and she seems to have fewer lines on her face.
“I slept wonderfully, Dahlia.” She takes another sip of coffee and lets out a satisfied sigh.
I glance around the room at our little family—because Elle and Charlie are family, too—and hope sparks in my heart. Maybe Damon is right. With Charlie and Elle on the throne, things will change. Maybe, before my parents leave Farcliff again, I can tell them that I’ve been dating him.
Maybe when I tell him about the baby, things won’t fall apart. Maybe I can get my own happily ever after, too.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
I finish my breakfast and a castle worker whisks my plate away. The movement startles me—just as it always does.
Except this time, I don’t spill my coffee, or flip a plate over, or fall on the floor. Nothing bad happens. He just takes my plate away. There’s no curse, no clumsiness—nothing. A grin touches my lips, and hope burns brighter in my heart.
Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection Page 33