Heartless Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 2)

by Lilian Monroe

  “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.”

  “Lady Malerie, that’s enough,” Elle snaps, her voice commanding and regal. “Your old feuds have no bearing here. The evidence doesn’t point to the Raventhals.”

  Tension fills the air, and Malerie finally huffs and leaves the room.

  Then, it’s Tabitha Raventhal’s turn to face us.

  Exhaustion is settling into my bones. I can’t take much more of this. I already know how Mrs. Raventhal feels about me, and right now, I don’t care. I just want Dahlia to be beside me—safe, alive, and well.

  “Dahlia, it’s time to go back to your own room,” Mrs. Raventhal says. She throws me a dirty stare and turns her nose up at me. “You shouldn’t be here with him.”

  Dahlia squeezes my hand and straightens up in her wheelchair. Her chin juts out defiantly, and my love for her spreads through my chest.

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” Mrs. Raventhal says, arching an eyebrow.

  “I said no. When I was a kid, you could ship me off to the mountains. I didn’t have a say. You could fill my head with ideas that I was cursed, and that my life was doomed. But I’m not a kid anymore. This is the man I love, Mother.” Her cheeks are bright red, and her shoulders are thrown back. “I love Damon Farcliff.”

  She glances at me and her eyes shine.

  Turning back to her mother, Dahlia takes a deep breath.

  “He’s the man I want to marry, and he’s the father of my child. I’m not leaving him just because you don’t like his aunt. You and Malerie need to get over yourselves. Your stupid feud is hurting more people than just you two.”

  Mrs. Raventhal’s mouth drops open. “I don’t—”

  “I don’t care what you have to say,” Dahlia interrupts. “You don’t get to dictate what I do.”

  “I’m your mother.”

  “Congratulations. I’m going to be a mother, too, and I’ll get to decide what’s best for my baby—not you. Being with the baby’s father is better than being shipped off to the middle of nowhere and being told that you’re broken.”

  “Dahlia…” Her father tries to interject, but Dahlia puts her hand up.

  “I understand your reasons for doing it, and I have no anger toward you—but it’s time for me to be my own person. That means being with the man I love. If you want to be part of my life—and part of my baby’s life—then you’re going to have to deal with it.”

  Mr. Raventhal sighs. “I’ll get the nurse to bring another bed in here.”

  “Harry, you can’t let her stay!” Mrs. Raventhal exclaims, turning her anger to her husband.

  “I can and I will,” he retorts, before his voice softens. “Darling, she’s right. This anger is only hurting us and the people we love. Let her be happy.”

  Mrs. Raventhal’s lip trembles. Finally, she nods weakly.

  Dahlia’s father leads his wife out of the room, throwing the two of us one more glance. He gives his daughter a soft smile.

  “I’m not leaving,” Dahlia says to her father, even though he never asked her to. Her mouth is set in a resolute line. A smile tugs at my lips. I love this girl more than anything in the world.

  Her father sighs and turns his eyes to me. “You sure you can deal with her? Take it from someone who’s spent the past thirty years with her mother—it’s not going to change.”

  I grin. “I will gladly deal with her for thirty years and more.”

  Dahlia lays her head on my arm again. We stay there together, unmoving. It takes a few minutes for them to set up another bed and get Dahlia into it, but when they do, she’s close enough to touch. She reaches her hand over to my bed and intertwines her fingers in mine.

  Nurses check on us and family members fuss over us. When they finally leave, I turn to look at Dahlia.

  “I thought you were gone.”

  “Is that why you went back to the warehouse?”

  “You don’t want to be with me, Dahlia,” I say weakly. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve just been hurting the people around me.”

  “You haven’t hurt me.”

  “I did. I brought you to the castle and look at what happened.”

  “You didn’t bring me anywhere. I went of my own free will.” She smiles at me and shakes her head. “I don’t even think your Aunt Malerie did it on purpose.”
/>   “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “I don’t know. I was watching her just now… She really cares about you. And so do I.”

  “You’ll forgive her? Just like that?”

  Dahlia takes a deep breath and stares at me for a moment, considering the question. Then, she nods. “Yeah.”

  “How? How do you forgive so easily?”

  “Forgiveness is a choice.” She smiles at me and squeezes my hand. “You have to give yourself permission to forgive and be forgiven.”

  I know she’s talking about my mother. I know she’s talking about me forgiving myself. She makes it sound so easy, but…

  …what if it was?

  What if I stopped fighting it, and I just let go of the pain? What if I let go of the darkness?

  “You have to stop fighting,” Dahlia says softly. “None of what has happened was your fault—not with your mother, or with me.”

  I grimace, turning my head to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

  “I mean it.”

  I sigh. Her words start to sink in, but I wonder if I’ll ever truly believe them.

  But then, Dahlia squeezes my hand and a wave of calm washes over me.

  “You have to forgive yourself, Damon. Otherwise you’ll never find peace.”

  The only time in my life that I haven’t been plagued by darkness has been when I’m with Dahlia. What if she’s right? What if it is just as easy as deciding to accept forgiveness?

  “I don’t know how to forgive myself,” I whisper.

  Her hand is warm, and it fits perfectly into mine. She lets out a long breath. “You just decide to do it one day. You hold on to anger and pain until it feels like it’s part of you, and then at one point you just… let it go.”

  Dahlia turns her head toward me and sighs. “I think the curse was my way of holding onto my anger and pain. I know, now, that being shipped off to the Rockies messed me up a little. Not knowing who I am…” She sighs. “…I don’t think my parents are bad people, but they made bad decisions. My whole life, I was worried about doing things that would upset my mother. Now I know that I need to live my life without being crippled by the thought of how she’ll react. I need to do what’s best for me, and this baby—and you.”