I nod.
“Okay. Who is your doctor?”
I inhale sharply and shake my head. “I don’t have one.”
“You’re about two months on, Dahlia. You should be having regular doctor’s visits.”
“I know. It’s… complicated.”
The doctor nods and jots down a note. “The father?”
“Prince Damon of Farcliff,” I answer, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.
The doctor looks up sharply and stares at me for a moment. “You’re sure about that?”
I nod. “Can I get my phone please? I’d like to call him.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She puts her pen in her front pocket and slips the chart down into the slot at the end of my bed. “Get some rest.”
I nod, and she leaves. This time, my family is allowed to come back in. My father is here now, his face lined with worry. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He throws his arms around me and sobs into my neck. My eyes prickle, and I comfort him as best as I can.
My three aunts and my parents stay with me until I fall asleep again, and they take shifts through the night as well. I’m never alone for a moment. When I wake up again in the morning, Theresa smiles at me.
“Hey, kid,” she says with a smile. “You look better today. You’ve got some color.”
“I feel better,” I say, tilting the hospital bed up to a seated position. My aunt fusses with my pillow and when I’m comfortable, I take a deep breath. “Theresa, where’s Damon?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not sure, dear. We went to the castle and got your phone,” she says, motioning to the side table. “Try him.”
My aunt gives me a moment of privacy, and I try calling him three or four times. It rings out every time.
For the first time since I woke up, real worry starts to twist in my stomach.
37
Dahlia
I think the nurse in my room almost passes out from shock when Queen Elle strides through the door. Elle throws her arms around me and holds me tight.
“Oh my gosh, Dahlia! You scared me.”
“I’m fine,” I smile. “Have you heard from Damon?”
“Is he…”
“…the father?”
Elle nods.
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Like two peas in a pod, you and I.”
“I remember a time that you were very high and mighty about using protection,” she grins. “Look at you now—just as pregnant as I was.”
I laugh, and my face feels like it’s creaking from the effort. Elle plonks herself down in a chair and looks around the room. “I’m glad you’re awake.” When she looks at me again, her eyes are shining with tears. “I was scared.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says, waving a hand. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I don’t know. Not telling you about me and Damon?”
Elle grunts, nodding. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared.”
The Queen chuckles and shakes her head. “What do you have to be scared of, Dahlia? You basically helped me survive through my last year at college. I’m happy that you and Damon are together—it means we’ll always be close.”
“It’s not like we’re married,” I smile sadly. “He’s not answering his phone.”
The door to my room flies open and the two of us jump. It’s Elle’s security detail chief. He bows.
“Your Majesty, it’s the King’s brother, Damon.”
“What about him?” I sit up. My heart starts thumping and the machine next to my bed starts beeping. Elle puts her hand on my arm to comfort me.
“He’s downstairs, in the emergency department, ma’am.” The agent looks from me, to Elle, and back to me again.
“I’m coming.” I push myself up and promptly collapse back onto my bed.
“Stay there, Dahlia,” Elle insists. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”
I try to lift myself up again, but Elle puts her hand on my shoulder—not that I could move, anyway. My head is already spinning just from trying to sit up. There’s no hope that I’d be able to use my legs right now, or be upright for any length of time.
Damon is hurt, though, and I need to know what’s going on.
This is my fault. I should never have pushed him away. I shouldn’t have hidden the baby from him. I should have faced my fears and been honest with him from the start.
Elle squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay? Stay calm.”
Easier said than done. Elle strides from my room and I’m left alone again. I lie back in bed, breathing raggedly. Staring at the ceiling, tears prickle my eyes.
There’s only one thing I know for sure, now—that I love Prince Damon. I’ve loved him for weeks. Months, even. I’ve been carrying his child, and I’ve been too chicken to tell him about it.
My cowardice makes my cheeks burn with shame. I feel like a fraud. I pretend to be a carefree, happy girl, but I don’t have the courage to live my life as honestly as I should.
I don’t even have the courage to tell the man I love how I feel.
And now? What if I never get the chance?
My father pokes his head through the door. He smiles sadly at me and sits at the side of my bed. “I sent your mother and your aunts back to the castle,” he says. “Didn’t want you to be too crowded.”
He threads his fingers into mine and I nod. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You love Prince Damon?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
My father nods. “Good.”
“What’s going on? Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know, kiddo. I hope so.” He squeezes my hand and takes a deep breath. “He was found at the entrance to the hospital. He was dropped off by someone, probably. We don’t know who. He looks like he’s been beaten badly.”
My heart breaks. My lip trembles and I try to contain my tears. I know where he was, and I know what he did.
He asked for that beating.
My father wipes a tear from my cheek. “He stayed at the hospital almost the whole time you’ve been here. Your mother wouldn’t let him in the room.”
My father glances at me and shakes his head, his lips tugging in a slight smile.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a man,” he continues, “but I felt sorry for him. I could see what he was going through. He loves you too.”
“I know.” I say the words quietly as I close my eyes.
Of course Prince Damon loves me. He stayed at my house in Grimdale for weeks to be with me, instead of staying at the castle. He agreed to keep our relationship private because it’s what I wanted. He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
Then, he watched me lay in this hospital bed, wondering if I’d ever wake up.
It feels like a weight is crushing my chest, and I can’t take a full breath. Now Damon’s somewhere in this hospital, too, and I’m the one worrying that he won’t wake up.
I open my eyes again and glance at my father.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“I want to be there when he wakes up.”
My father smiles at me. His eyes shine as he leans over to kiss my forehead.
“Okay,” he says, nodding. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Exhaustion grips me again, and I fall into a fitful sleep. I dream in vivid detail of horrible, violent scenes. I wake up every few minutes, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My father is always there, mopping my brow as I drift off again to a land of nightmares.
When I wake up, I’m not sure reality is any better.
38
Lady Malerie
Malerie’s mouth goes dry as she races toward the Farcliff Royal Hospital. Her hands shake, and her steps are hurried. She pushes the door open with so much force it slams into the wall behind it. Heads turn toward her and nurses make outraged noises in response.
Malerie doesn’t care.
“Damon Farcliff,�
�� she snaps. “Where is he?”
A nurse leads her toward her nephew’s room. The nurse walks so damned slow. Too slow! Does no one hurry in this hospital? Don’t they understand who she is—who Damon is?
“He’s out of surgery now, and he’s stable,” the nurse explains as they near his room. “He’s still asleep and probably will be for a while.”
Malerie hardly hears her. She pushes the door open and a strangled scream escapes her lips.
Her nephew. Her boy. Her sweet, sweet Damon.
He’s almost unrecognizable. His face has been battered, and his body is covered in bandages. A tube is sticking out of his side and a brace is around his neck.
Malerie falls against his bed, gasping.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
“He was fighting at an illegal fight club,” Queen Elle says from the doorway behind Malerie.
Malerie spins around. As she composes herself, she inclines her head toward the monarch. “A fight club?”
“Videos and pictures are already surfacing online.” The Queen takes a few steps toward the bed, and Malerie has to hold herself back from lunging protectively in front of Damon. Her hands tremble, and she grips the side of the bed as hard as she can.
“Charlie told me he found out about his mother’s poisoning and disappeared. A few hours later, he was dumped outside the emergency department.” The Queen shakes her head, staring at Damon. “He’s been a mess ever since he found out about Dahlia and the baby.”
The baby.
So, it’s true.
Malerie saw the way Dahlia had clutched her stomach—the way only a mother shields her unborn child.
In that moment, Malerie knew—but she hadn’t believed it until now.
Malerie rakes in a deep breath and swings her eyes over to Damon. He’s like a son to her, and seeing him on this hospital bed cuts Malerie to the bone. The pain in her chest is almost unbearable. She shakes her head.
He impregnated a Raventhal?
“How is Miss Raventhal doing?” Malerie manages to say. Dead, I hope.
She shouldn’t think these things. Of course she shouldn’t—but Malerie can’t stop herself. Thoughts swirl around, and around, and around in her mind—until she feels like she’s driving herself insane.
“Dahlia is awake now, thank goodness.” The Queen responds.
“I’m glad.” Malerie swings her eyes back to Damon.
She’s not glad. The Raventhal girl is awake, and Damon is unconscious. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be—but it’s the way things always are with the Raventhals. They only bring death and destruction wherever they go.
Malerie turns back to the Queen, finally registering what Her Majesty said earlier.
“Poisoned?”
The Queen sighs, taking a seat next to Damon. “I thought Charlie told you. They found out she was poisoned with arsenic.”
“Arsenic?” It’s all Malerie can do to repeat the Queen’s words. She stares at the monarch, and then at Damon. Her throat closes up, and it’s hard to take a full breath. She swallows, wavering on her feet.
This was the Raventhals, she’s sure of it. That bitch, Tabitha Raventhal, had her sights on the former Queen for years—and now, Dahlia got what she wanted too.
Malerie didn’t intend for Dahlia to get stung by that bee. If she’d known what would happen, Malerie would have brought the entire hive inside. It would have been a good riddance.
The Raventhals have brought nothing but trouble down onto Farcliff. Malerie has never trusted any of them, but it’s too late to do anything now. She glances at Damon, and hopes it’s not too late for him, too.
A noise at the door makes Malerie turn her head. Young Dahlia is being wheeled in by her father.
Never in her life has Malerie felt rage like this. Dahlia is pale, hardly recovered from her anaphylaxis. She’s gripping onto the sides of the wheelchair as if she’s afraid she’ll fall out of it. Her father wheels her in beside the Queen, and Malerie stares at the three of them with daggers in her eyes.
How dare they? How dare they walk into this room and pretend they care? How dare they come anywhere near Damon?
They did this.
They caused this. They killed the former Queen, and now they’ll kill Damon, too.
“Get out,” she spits.
Dahlia’s eyebrows jump up. “What?”
“Get out. Both of you. You’re not welcome here.”
“They are welcome everywhere in Farcliff,” the Queen warns.
Malerie bristles, pointing at Dahlia. “This is your fault. Your mother murdered the Queen, and now you’re here to cause more havoc. Arrest them, Your Majesty! Don’t be fooled by them. They’re murderers.”
She inhales sharply, trembling. She grips onto the end of the bed to hold herself back from lunging at the sick girl.
Dahlia stares at her, wide-eyed. “What?”
“Your mother killed the Queen, and you know it.”
“She did not!” Dahlia’s cheeks go pink and her father straightens up. The tension in the room heightens.
Malerie opens her mouth, ready to fling a string of insults at the two Raventhal vermin. They will not infest the castle again. She won’t let it happen.
Before she can say anything, a rasping voice comes from the bed.
“No,” Damon croaks. “I killed her.”
39
Damon
My whole body is one, thumping ache. I can’t think straight, but Dahlia is beside me and she’s awake.
She’s alive.
Oh, I never thought I’d see her eyes again. I thought I’d die on that warehouse floor with nothing but my memories of her.
But she’s here, staring at me with tears in her eyes. The first spark of joy goes off in my heart at the sight of her smile.
My aunt is fuming at the end of the bed, and it takes all my energy to tear my eyes off Dahlia and speak again.
“My father…” I take a breath, “…gave me tea to bring her that night.” I breathe in again, and everything hurts. My left side is throbbing, and I glance down to see a tube sticking out of it. I grimace.
“Tea?” My aunt asks, frowning.
“Yeah.”
What was I saying?
Dahlia reaches over, slipping her hand into mine. She has an IV pole beside her, and she looks deathly pale—but she’s alive.
I try to smile, but everything hurts. I cough, and pain explodes through me.
It’s not the good kind of pain. Not the pain that I’ve been craving. This is too much. I’ve gone too far. It’s wrong.
Dahlia lets out a long breath. “You’re alive.”
“So are you,” I smile, and my face aches again.
“Damon,” Aunt Malerie says, “are you suggesting you think my brother poisoned his own wife?”
“All the evidence points to it,” I say and then take another labored breath. “We just didn’t know how. Now we know. Poison—and I’m the one who gave it to her. Talin Thorne procured it, brought it to the castle, Father made the tea… and I delivered it to her.”
Everyone stares at me, and I don’t know what else to say. I don’t even know what I feel. Shame still coats the inside of my mouth, but the look on Dahlia’s face makes me think that everything will be okay. She leans over to kiss my hand, and rests her forehead against my arm.
I sigh.
My aunt is still trembling at the foot of my bed. I look at her, and she stares between me and Dahlia with fury in her eyes.
I don’t understand it. I don’t get what she’s looking for in Dahlia—or why she thinks Dahlia’s had anything to do with the Queen’s death.
Aunt Malerie shakes her head. “It can’t be.”
“It was me,” I say, closing my eyes to compose myself.
“No, Damon,” my aunt whispers. “It couldn’t be. You wouldn’t do that.”
“I did it, and I’ll never forgive myself. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I
did it.” I look away from them all, staring at the wall. My whole body is in pain, but it’s not enough to get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach. It’s not enough to wash me of the guilt and shame inside me. It hasn’t taken away my past.
But then, Dahlia kisses my hand again, and sighs against me. Her breath is like a cool breeze washing over my skin.
Hope flames to life inside me.
If she’s here, maybe there’s a chance for my redemption? Maybe it’s a sign that we’re meant to be together. I look at her, ignoring the throbbing pain that’s overtaking my entire body.
“The baby?” I whisper.
She glances up at me and a small smile appears on her lips. “It’s okay.”
“Good.”
“You…” She inhales sharply and tears appear in her eyes. “Do you want it?”
“Of course I fucking want it,” I say, laughing. The laugh makes pain shoot through my chest and I cough, and then groan.
Aunt Malerie still looks furious. She turns toward the door and gasps when Tabitha Raventhal darkens the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Raventhal spits at Aunt Malerie.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” my aunt replies. Her voice is spiked with venom.
Mrs. Raventhal’s brow creases as she stares at Malerie, then to Dahlia, to me, and finally to her husband.
She curtsies for the Queen, but otherwise stays completely still.
“Are you happy now?” Malerie hisses, taking a step toward Mrs. Raventhal. “Are you happy with the destruction your family has caused?”
“Malerie,” I start. My aunt ignores me.
“You came here fifteen years ago, and you killed the only woman who was good for this Kingdom—and you had the nerve, the audacity, to blame my brother.”
Tabitha’s eyebrows arch, and then an ugly snarl twists her lips. “I never—”
“Stop,” I say, and then cough at the pain of speaking. “Enough.”
“Damon, they’re blinding you. You think Dahlia loves you, but she doesn’t. She’s just trying to ensnare you, like her mother did to the Queen.”
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