I’m exhausted most of the time.
In the dead of night, though, when my eyes are heavy and I drift in the space between wakefulness and sleep, I think of Dahlia. She creeps into my dreams uninvited. In a hidden corner of my heart, where only the truth can live, I know that I have to see her again.
16
DAHLIA
THE MONTHS that I spend apart from Prince Damon feel like living in perpetual night. He’s the sun, and I know he’s there—I just can’t see him. There’s a world between us. I spend my days in darkness, without his warmth, or light, or his life-giving energy.
I finish off my junior year at Farcliff University and head down to California, where my parents have been living. It’s been three months since my mother had her fall and broke her hip, and now she’s back on her feet again. My parents wrap me in a warm hug when I arrive and I paint a smile on my face.
College is good, I tell them. Elle is doing well, I say.
I don’t mention Prince Damon, for obvious reasons.
I bring them a jar of coveted Farcliff honey, which they haven’t tasted since their exile. My father smiles wide and plants a kiss on my cheek. My mother turns her nose up, and says that she thinks my bee allergy was caused by the honeybees at the royal hives.
When I’m sure that my mother is fine, and I’ve convinced myself that breaking it off with the Prince was the right decision, I go home to my aunts in Colorado. After a month with my aunts, listening to the crickets in the evening and the birds in the morning, I feel like I’m going to explode.
I’m restless.
I toss and turn in my bed every night, wondering what it would feel like to have the weight of Damon’s arm across my body. I can’t stop thinking about him—wondering, wishing, hoping.
Trying to forget.
Finally, halfway through the summer, I head back to Farcliff. Elle is pregnant with Prince Charlie’s baby—but I’ll let her tell that story for herself. I tell my aunts that she needs my help.
Mostly, though, I’m just too far away from Damon—not that I’d ever admit that to anyone.
IN SEPTEMBER, classes start again, and I have more than enough going on to keep myself distracted. I get an internship at one of Farcliff University’s labs, so I’m busy with school, work, and research.
My bed stays cold and empty, because I can’t bring myself to replace the Prince. I’ll eventually go back to my old ways, I tell myself. I’ll sleep with someone else, and I’ll get over the Prince—just not tonight.
Or the next night.
Or the next.
When I try to flirt with someone, I lose interest. When I try to bring myself to date, it feels wrong. I even stopped taking my birth control. My prescription ran out, and I didn’t see the point in getting another. If I’m not having sex, why would I?
ONE EVENING IN MID-SEPTEMBER, Elle’s baby kicks. We smile and squeal in excitement together. Elle, heartbroken as she is over Prince Charlie, is happy.
She glances at me. “I haven’t heard any marathon sex sessions in a while. You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, giving her a tight smile. “Just a dry spell, I guess.”
I can see it in her face that she doesn’t believe me, but I can’t tell her about Prince Damon now—not after her secret relationship with Prince Charlie fell apart.
Then, we flick on the television and find out Charlie’s wedding is set for the first of November. Elle’s heart breaks all over again, and I push thoughts of Prince Charlie’s brother into the back corner of my mind—hidden from everybody, including myself.
The Princes of Farcliff are officially dead to us.
HOW IS it that months can drag on and on, and yet at the same time, they go by in a flash?
Life just marches onward, and I’m carried along by its current. In a way, it feels like I’m watching life happen to everyone around me. Elle’s baby bump grows, and grows, and grows. She pulls herself together and works harder than I’ve ever seen her work and gets ready to be a mother.
I’m proud of her.
But me? What do I do?
I go to school and study. I work at the lab. I watch Elle become a woman.
I pine after a man that I knew for a week, nearly eight months ago.
I’m adrift, aimless, and maybe a little pathetic. Anton Chekhov once said: When a person is born, he can embark on only one of three roads of life: if you go right, the wolves will eat you; if you go left, you’ll eat the wolves; if you go straight, you’ll eat yourself.
I guess this is what it feels like to eat myself.
In those months, I realize that there is no curse. There’s just me—my hopes, my fears, my strengths and everything else inside me that holds me back. No, there’s no all-knowing curse that drags my life down at every turn. I do that to myself.
Aunt Theresa was right—I’m just clumsy.
WHEN PRINCE CHARLIE proposes to Elle in November, my heart nearly explodes of happiness for her. It’s the first time in a long time that I feel anything. The King abdicates, and we find out the Queen was murdered. How, exactly, isn’t clear yet, but there’s evidence of foul play.
My mother was right all those years ago. My heart skips at the thought—maybe this is it! Maybe this is the moment that the Raventhals are redeemed! Maybe… I shake my head before I can think of the Prince too deeply.
I call my mother as soon as I hear the news, and all she does is sigh in response. My heart sinks.
Farcliff Kingdom falls into complete panic. Charlie is named King, which means Elle will become the new Queen of Farcliff. After the drama of Charlie’s proposal dies down—which is her story to tell—Elle comes back to our little old house on the edge of Grimdale and asks me to move to the castle with her.
She lowers herself down onto our old couch, her pregnant stomach looking like it’s ready to pop at any moment. She’s glowing, and not just in the pregnancy kind of way. She looks so happy it’s impossible not to smile with her.
“There’s more than enough room for you, Dahlia. Now that the King has abdicated, you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable at the castle. Things are different, now.”
I suck in a breath and look away. It’s hard to see her like this—so happy and in love—when I still feel uneasy. I’m happy for her, of course, but it’s hard to shake feelings that I’ve carried with me my whole life. Besides, how would I face Damon? Has he moved on? Am I just supposed to move into the same building as him and we pick up where we left off?
Ha! As if!
“I think I’d rather stay here,” I say, motioning to our dilapidated house. “All my stuff is here.”
“We can move your stuff, Dahl,” Elle smiles. “It would take a couple hours at most. I can get some men from the castle to help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Are you still worried about the royal family?”
“A little,” I admit.
“Even though I’m marrying one of them?”
“Charlie’s different.”
Elle sighs. “I think the King was a bad apple, Dahlia. You don’t have to be scared of the royal family anymore. Invite your parents back to Farcliff.”
I wring my hands and bite my lip. “I’ll ask them,” I finally say. I already know how my mother feels—she’s not in any rush to come back here.
Still, something stirs in my chest—something I haven’t felt in a long time. My thoughts bounce between Prince Damon, my mother and father, and Elle at the castle with Charlie.
To their baby…
…and I feel hope.
What if…
Elle takes a seat beside me on the couch in our living room—well, I guess it’s just my living room now—and she looks around the house with a faraway look in her eyes. I can tell what she’s doing. She’s saying goodbye to this place—where we’ve had so many good times and bad times together. Where we became adults together.
Where she lived when she fell in love.
And me?
&nbs
p; Well, I’m still here. Still afraid of the castle. Still torn between my duty to my family and my desire to be my own person. Still thinking of my evening sitting on the Throne of Farcliff.
Elle glances at me. “What about Damon?”
My spine stiffens. “What about him?”
“He’d like to see you at the castle.”
“Would he?” I scoff. I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, I’m still a Raventhal. Just because my mother was right about the Queen’s death, doesn’t mean they’ll welcome us back with open arms.”
“Of course they will, Dahlia,” Elle smiles. “Charlie said so himself. No one resents the Raventhals anymore.”
“The King does. His sister does. The investigation is still ongoing. How do we know who we can trust at the castle and who we can’t?”
Excuses, excuses, excuses. That’s all I hear coming out of my own mouth, when what’s really holding me back is the thought of facing Damon again.
“The King isn’t the King anymore,” Elle says gently. “Charlie is King, now, and he doesn’t hold it against you. He loves you—just like I do.”
I smile sadly and take a deep breath. “I don’t know how to explain it, Elle… It just makes me uneasy to go to the castle.”
“Even now?”
“Even now.”
Elle sighs. “Okay. Well, at least be my maid of honor.”
I turn to look at her and a smile tugs at my lips. “Really?”
“Really. I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side. The wedding is in two weeks, and I don’t want to do it without you.”
My face breaks into a smile and I lean on Elle’s shoulder. She has one hand on her pregnant stomach, and she hooks the other arm around my back.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married so soon.”
“Got to do it before this little monster comes out,” she says. I can hear the grin in her voice. I watch her rub her hand over her belly. “So, that’s a yes?” She asks.
“Of course it’s a yes,” I laugh. “I’ll go to the castle for your wedding, at least, even if I don’t want to move there.”
Elle squeezes my shoulder. “Deal. Once the investigation is over, will you reconsider coming to the castle? I would love to have a familiar face there.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and nod, smiling. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.”
Elle heaves herself up to her feet and lets out a breath. “I’m looking forward to getting this baby out, I can tell you that much.”
“Can’t wait to meet him.” I smile.
She gives me a hug and walks toward the front door. There are security guards waiting outside the door, and two more men waiting by a black sedan with tinted windows. Elle lets one of the security guards help her in and I watch from the front porch, giving her one last wave as my best friend is driven back to the castle by her entourage.
To her new home.
I turn back to my old house with a sigh. Things have changed—I know they have. I should face the castle, face my fears, and face the Prince.
Prince Damon did something to me in that throne room, and it scares me. I’m not the type of person who drops everything for a man I don’t know, or stays hung up on someone for months. I’m not the type of person who gets thrown off so easily.
Damon throws me off. Even when he doesn’t know he’s doing it—when I haven’t seen him in months—he still makes my head spin.
I scoff, shaking my head. This year has been so turbulent that I need a break just to make sense of it all.
I don’t want to move to the castle. I don’t want to be that close to him, because it strips me of all my defenses and makes me feel like I don’t know myself anymore.
But when I enter my house again, looking around at the peeling paint and dust bunnies in the corners, I let out a deep breath and bring my fingers to the bridge of my nose.
The King abdicated, and there’s a royal inquest into the former Queen’s death. All the questions I have about the past, about my mother, about my childhood—they could all be answered.
This changes everything.
There it is again—hope. Fickle, unreliable, heartbreaking hope.
Prince Damon and I? We might have a chance. Maybe I could see him again, and not be scared of the consequences.
The thought makes my heart thump and my stomach clench. I run my fingers through my hair put a hand to my chest.
Elle’s wedding is in two weeks, which means in two weeks, I’ll see Damon again. I’ll be in the same room as him. I’ll smell him, and watch him, and maybe even touch him.
In two weeks, I’ll find out if he still thinks about me the same way I think about him.
17
DAMON
I STRAIGHTEN my tie and take a deep breath. The past month has been difficult. Charlie discovered that our father, the King, had our mother murdered fifteen years ago, and I’ve been having a tough time getting past it. I’ve gone to see Nigel at the warehouse half a dozen times since I found out.
Anyone would have a hard time with that, but I have other demons to deal with. All my fears are coming to fruition. Maybe my memories of that night are true after all.
Maybe it really was my fault.
A knock on my door makes me turn my head. “Come in,” I call out.
My youngest brother, Gabriel, walks in. His dark, chocolate-brown hair is disheveled, and his tie is crooked. His eyes are hazy, as if he’s been drinking already.
I sigh. “Hey, Gabe.”
“How you doin’?” He slurs his words a bit and flops down onto the nearest chair. Gabe isn’t a bad guy—he’s just angry. While I deal with my anger in private, and Charlie takes it out on the punching bags, Gabe hasn’t quite found a way to release it yet. He’s just turned nineteen, and it looks like he’s at the start of one long, downward spiral.
I know exactly how that feels, but I don’t know how to help him.
I shrug. “I’m fine. Just going to try to get through today with a smile on my face.”
“Yeah.” Gabe rests his head on his fist and lets out a sigh. He was just a kid when our mother was killed. He barely remembers her, and I think that hurts him more than anything else. As he’s gotten older, he’s talked about it less and less.
“You okay?” I ask, heading to the mini fridge and pulling out two beers. Gabe accepts one of them with a nod.
“Not really. I get why Charlie has to get married—he’s going to be crowned soon, and he needs a wife. His girlfriend is pregnant, so they want to get married before the baby comes. I get that, I really do. It’s just…”
“…it’s quick.”
“Yeah,” Gabe sighs. “We just found out all this shit about Father, and now we’re supposed to turn around and celebrate?”
“I think that’s why he’s just having a small ceremony, with only close friends and family.”
“I know, but it just feels wrong. How am I supposed to be happy for him when I know that my mom was murdered by my fucking father?” A vein in his neck pulses.
“I know.” More than I can say to him, I know. I fucking know how he feels. It’s simmering just below the surface in all three of us.
“Do you know, though? You seem to be doing all right.”
“Gabe…”
“What?” His voice has an edge to it that wasn’t there a second ago.
I take a deep breath. “All I’m saying is—let’s just make it through today and be happy for Charlie. The investigation is ongoing, so we can deal with the fallout after. Maybe it’s a good thing we have this wedding right now. It’s a distraction from all the other shit going on.”
Gabe grunts in response. It kills me that he feels like this, but there’s nothing I can do about it. We sip our drinks in silence, and then I push myself up to my feet.
“We should get down there.”
My brother lets out a heavy sigh and follows me down to
the Great Hall. I’ve avoided this room ever since Dahlia was in here with me. Every time I see the throne, I think of what happened on top of it.
They’re not bad memories—I just wish they weren’t just memories. I wish they were a daily occurrence, and not a flash in my past.
The ceremony will start any minute, and I find Charlie near the throne. I clap him on the shoulder.
“Congratulations, brother,” I say.
“Thanks, Damon.” His face is lined with tiredness—just like Gabriel’s face and my own. Just like everyone’s face has been lined since we found out the news about our father.
Unlike Gabe and me, Charlie’s eyes are bright with happiness.
I take my spot beside him, and Gabe takes his place beside me. Gabe wavers on his feet a little, but stays standing. I just hope he makes it through the ceremony without passing out or vomiting. There’s definitely a beast inside my little brother, and I don’t want him to let it out today.
Music sounds from behind us, and the ceremony begins. There aren’t many people in attendance—maybe thirty, total. Our family, our closest friends, and the people we know we can trust. No press, no journalists, no outsiders.
The doors at the end of the room open and my breath catches in my throat.
Dahlia.
I knew there was a good chance she’d be here. A part of me hoped she would. A part of me never wanted to see her again, just to avoid the bottomless feeling I get in my stomach whenever she’s around.
But she’s here, and she’s perfect. She’s dressed in a blushing, pink dress that swirls around her feet as she walks up the aisle. Her hair is platinum blonde now, curled into soft waves that fall to her mid-back. The ends are dyed bright, neon pink.
I want her.
Any anger that I had over her rejection—any resentment that existed in my heart—it’s gone. As soon as she steps into the Great Hall, I know I want her again.
Need her again.
If I had my way, everyone else in this room would disappear and I’d sit Dahlia on the throne once more, spread those perfect legs wide and make her mine until the only word on her lips was my name.
Heartless Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 2) Page 9