Crypts and Crimes (Trixie Towers Book 3)

by Scarlett Dawn

  Princess Trixie and I agreed on that.

  What didn’t we agree on?

  The imperious jackass with her.

  Because Trix? Her own father didn’t even call her that.

  And this stranger ordered her around—a royal.

  Mine.

  I bared my tiger fangs and slipped to the outlying end of the row. I tilted to the side and leaned my shoulder against the dark, hard wood of the shelf, and peeked around the corner, prepared to observe the two from the shadows.

  My vexing soul mate entered the flora section.

  As did her companion.

  I narrowed my eyes on their attire. They were in disguise. It was no wonder my spies hadn’t reported the princess leaving the castle grounds all week. All my men would overlook this tattered attire—and their shabby, hooded cloaks covered their heads.

  I squatted slowly, crouching low, keeping my eyes on the man next to her with his back to me.

  He waggled a finger at the shelves. “All right. Which one?”

  “It’s not quite that easy to choose,” Princess Trixie scoffed, tilting her head back to look at her taller companion. She shooed her hands at him. “Go look at dirty books or something, and leave me be for a few minutes.”

  I clutched my own dirty book tighter.

  The man tipped his head back and laughed loudly. “You’re the one who dragged me out of my home! I would have been just as happy if we’d stayed there.”

  Immediately, blood churned in my eyes.

  I blinked quickly, shoving down my royal bloodpower. When I killed this man, I wanted to play with him first.

  My Fae damned soul mate stated clearly, “We’ve been there all week. Your bed’s comfortable, but not that comfortable. I needed to get out.”

  What the fuck.

  My royal bloodpower pulsed fiercely, uncontrollable in its ferocity, simmering from the inside out, ready to strike the entire fucking Elf Kingdom’s capital city. Blood pulsed all around, thrumming and chaotic in melody, nearly a steady high tone, a heinous buzz I wanted to break.

  My soul mate had spread her legs for another man.

  His cock had slid into her tight pussy, making her feel.

  He knew what it was like to be inside what was mine.

  She’d lied to me…

  Mayhap I didn’t need to play with him for too long.

  Dead now sounded perfect. I set my book on the ground.

  Princess Trixie jerked in place, and her red eyebrows scrunched low over her emerald, elven eyes. Her right hand flew to her chest, directly over her heart, her fingers digging in and clutching at her black cloak. Her pouty, red lips opened slowly, and she pivoted quickly to place her back to him—and me. She stated brutally, “Leave me alone for a few minutes. Go away.”

  Her companion slowly straightened his spine, growling in fury, “Now I understand. Who gave you that sweater?”

  Blood…boiling. I would soon blow.

  Princess Trixie reached blindly for a shelf, shoving her free hand on it as she bowed over and continued clutching at her chest, sucking in large lungfuls of breath and shaking her head.

  The elf grabbed her shoulders and jerked her around to face him, shaking her frame briskly and demanding harshly, “Who is the motherfucker?”

  She batted at his chest, attempting—and failing—to push him away. “Stop it. I can’t tell you.”

  Enough.

  I stood up straight, my muscles taut to pounce. I prowled right at the two unsuspecting elves, ready to play with my prey. Blood churned in my eyes as I stated calmly, “I don’t believe Princess Trixie wishes your hands on her.”

  The man froze at my words.

  Princess Trixie’s eyes widened in horror at my sudden appearance, whispering harshly, “King Athon.”

  I kept prowling, my attention on the back of the man’s hood. I growled in slow ticks, ready to attack and rip his throat out with my tiger fangs. “Release her now.”

  “Go,” Princess Trixie commanded, jerking her eyes up to his hidden face. She hesitated, and then stated softly, “That is an order.”

  Her companion flinched at her words.

  My steps did not speed up. There was no need.

  He cursed roughly and yanked his hands off her shoulders. The man ran past her, racing down the long row—away from me—holding his hood in place to hide his face. The elf was extremely fast, surprisingly so, quickly disappearing from sight.

  I chuckled darkly, intimately, as if she and I were alone in my bedchamber. I mocked quietly, “Do you really think that can stop me?”

  My cheating soul mate grasped at her chest again but held out her free hand in a stopping gesture. She begged, “It isn’t what you think. He is a friend of mine. Please, you need to calm down.”

  I stopped directly in front of her and grabbed her tiny throat with my right hand, squeezing hard enough to bruise her delicate, porcelain skin. While she choked for air and slapped at my hand, I stated conversationally, “If that is true, tell me his name. You would not fear to give the name of a friend, only a lover.”

  Her wide, green, elven eyes blinked rapidly. I loosened my grip just enough for her to catch one gasping breath, enough for her to answer.

  She wheezed, “I can’t give it to you.”

  I squeezed even harder. “Bitch.”

  Princess Trixie shook her head frantically, saying with her last breath, “Can’t.” A second later, she suddenly stopped scratching my hand and raised her fingers high, tapping desperately at my crown. She mouthed, “Can’t.”

  I stared down into her red, perspiring face.

  My blink was slow as her eyelashes fluttered wildly.

  Fae dammit.

  I jerked my hand back from her throat.

  She instantly bent over and started coughing brutally.

  I snarled under my breath and shoved my power into the part of my Fae-spark that was her, healing her damned body much quicker than she was able. I stalked back and forth down the aisle, passing her multiple times, shaking my hands out. I clashed brutally against my royal bloodpower, clawing it back into submission.

  Princess Trixie straightened gradually, long healed, watching me with narrowed, furious eyes. She reviled my very being even more than before, hissing, “You are lucky I didn’t torch your shifter ass.”

  Her power level didn’t even come close to mine.

  My rough laughter was a threat. I kept moving.

  “He is my dear friend. I can promise you that.” She tilted her head side to side, her fragile neck popping twice. “But I will not give you his name.”

  I snarled under my breath again. “He works for the elven crown.” It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t expect a response. I kept pacing back and forth, lest I shift right here in the store. “What you said to him… Did you stay there all week? In his bed?”

  She cleared her throat and sniffed. “Yes.”

  I bit hard at the air right in front of her face, baring my fangs, enjoying how she cringed. I kept prowling the row, capturing her eyes with mine—without mercy. I rumbled sharply, “Do you really think that is an acceptable action? Is it all right if I sleep in another’s bed?”

  “I…” Princess Trixie crossed her arms over her chest and took a small step back. “No. And no.”

  “Are you going to do it again?” I snarled at my young fucking soul mate. I stopped in front of her, but I let her keep her distance. “You warned me about Bishop last week, and then you do it yourself. I am furious right now.”

  Princess Trixie softly touched her neck with the tips of her fingers and managed to lift her chin, her royal nature shining. “I am furious, too.”

  “Don’t expect an apology from me. It won’t be coming,” I remarked steadily. “Now, answer me. Are you going to do it again?”

  “Um.” She crossed her arms again and rubbed her lips together, suddenly staring at the hardwood beneath our feet. Her cheeks pinked to a rosy hue, and she mumbled quietly, “I lived with him for a long
time. It’s hard being separated. And I don’t like sleeping in my castle alone. Grandmother Isabella and I lived there together.”

  My mouth snapped shut in surprise at her honesty.

  And…

  Hello, Caspian. I could put a scent to that name now.

  I crinkled my nose in disgust. Fuck me. I reluctantly spewed, “If you need, you may sleep in my bedchamber when you wish. You’ll need to be out before sunrise, of course.”

  Princess Trixie snorted, still eyeing the ground.

  I coughed behind my fist, and then I snarled, “Fae dammit, I am trying. I just caught you spending a week in another man’s bed, and then I offered you mine. That is extremely generous in my kingdom. Especially, when I don’t want you there to begin with.”

  “It is generous in my kingdom, too.” She sighed heavily and peered back up into my eyes, no longer sulking and shy. “I will think about it. You never know, one night I might be completely desperate enough to accept your offer.”

  My soul mate was a cunt. I wiggled my nose, and I lied, “A staff member is coming. You should leave.”

  “But I was going to purchase a gift—”

  “You and I had the same idea,” I grumbled, cutting her off. “I will buy the biggest damn book I can find for her.”

  “Asshole.” Princess Trixie flashed her fangs and walked away, marching down the aisle with her head held high. Her steps faltered halfway down the row when a white butterfly fluttered out of the books in front of her. Easily distracted, her eyes followed it until it disappeared back into the stacks. She reached out and seized a book where the butterfly had vanished, and wiggled the tome over her shoulder. “I’m buying this one, so fuck off.”

  My lips twitched as she stomped away, violence coiled in her shoulders, my difficult soul mate completely unaware that the butterfly now sat atop her hooded head completely ruining her ferocity.

  I waited until she had left the building before turning around and staring back into the shadows. I stated evenly, “Caspian.”

  A soft chuckle reverberated from the darkness. “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked you know my name, not after what I just witnessed.”

  “If you tell your king what I allowed you to eavesdrop on, I will make her life a living horror show. Do you understand?”

  He hummed quietly in thought. “And I will make you my next mark if you touch her with ill-intent again.”

  More intriguing.

  And it was cute that the elf thought he could give me orders.

  I lifted one black eyebrow. “She stays out of your bed.”

  “I give you no promises on that.”

  “Then I give no promises that I won’t maul you right next to her in your own bed.”

  “I can see why she hates you so—other than the obvious.” He snorted. “And nice book you dropped back here. Glad to know the Shifter Kingdom is dedicated to the finer arts. There are so many imbeciles that leave their partner wanting.”

  I growled quietly and tracked his movements by scent, my eyes following him as he left the building through the back door. I yanked my attention to the books of flora. Bishop would come searching soon.

  I grabbed the closest portrait tome—and my other book.

  The assistant wrapped both of them for me in the backroom while I stared in silence at the shopkeeper, amused by his fearful, nervous tics. But my attention snagged on a stool he stood on to reach a higher shelf. I grunted and rumbled, “How much for the stool?”

  His price was far too steep for the worn piece.

  I dropped coin on the counter for my purchases, stuffed the books in my satchel, and happily left the fucking bookstore behind—with an overpriced, wooden stool gripped in my right hand.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Confession of a king:

  Fear is such a splendor to behold in an enemy. All I do is walk into a room, and they cower. With their ugly ears pointed to the ceiling and their regal chins aimed at the floor, they might as well be giving out directions to the light Fae and the dark Fae.

  The air of civility I don to appease them is an annoyance. I’d much rather shift into my fur and show them the true savage that I am.

  However, then I’d have to smell the shit in their drawers.

  AXEL’S WHITE HOOVES clopped on the cobblestone street in front of King Traevon’s castle, coming to a stop from all the congestion slowing my procession. Guards dressed in their finest bold orange uniforms surrounded Bishop and me, where I sat atop my Fae-gift, and Bishop walked at a sedate pace next to me. Carriages traveling from everywhere within the Elf Kingdom lined the curving road behind us. Influential attendees from the different kingdoms followed them while the various rulers and their entourages arrived before us. The elven guards at the gates were holding up the line, searching King Elon’s group with brutal intensity.

  Bishop tilted to the side, peering between my guards. He shook his head and snorted. “Of course, it’s the gorgon king causing issues in the Elf Kingdom. Do you think he brought poison for King Traevon’s gift?”

  I grunted and patted Axel’s black neck, lest my Fae-gift fall asleep in this tediousness. But I instantly pulled my hand back and rubbed at my chest, my damned soul mate currently giving me problems, her emotions churning too high inside my Fae-spark. I stated absently, “Let us hope he didn’t.”

  Honey-brown eyes flashed up to my perch and narrowed. “Why do you say that? With King Traevon eliminated, no one would rival your power level.”

  With a clear expression, I stared at him.

  He leaned forward, probing quietly, “What is it you’re not telling me? Something is afoot. I do have eyes, and my vision is excellent, Your Royal Highness.”

  Indeed. My friend was extremely intelligent.

  But that didn’t mean he was privy to all royal matters.

  I simply shrugged a shoulder and peered forward again, my lips tipping up at the edges when the line to the castle stirred again—the issue with King Elon resolved by the elven guards.

  “All right.” Bishop snarled in my direction, keeping pace next to me when our congregation started moving once more. “I will wait for you to tell me, my king.”

  I chuckled softly, tiredly. “Rest in the fact that you don’t know.”

  Bishop stayed thoughtfully silent while the guards in red searched our group, and during our entire walk to the front of the castle. Only when I jumped down from Axel’s back—trusting my Fae-gift’s care to a reliable stablehand—did he turn a scowl on me, muttering, “Now I am worried. That is not restful. Does it have to do with the Fae who have become a nuisance in the kingdoms? Or those mysterious artifacts that the Misfits have you searching for?”

  My lips twitched. He was far too clever for his own well-being…unless it had to do with my welfare. Then he could be as shrewd as he wished to be to prevent a knife from stabbing me in the back.

  I stated firmly, “I will say no more on this issue.”

  He brushed his hands down his bold orange uniform in aggravation, as my guards parted to allow us the space to walk up to the opened front doors of King Traevon’s castle. He turned that frown on the golden glow shining from inside, lighting up the night. “We can stay out here all night. You are the King of Shifters. You can do as you—”

  “We have a fucking party to attend,” I growled, cutting him off. I stomped up the stairs, rubbing at my chest once more in irritation. “Let us be done with this Fae damned bother.”

  Bishop sighed and followed directly behind me, grumbling under his breath, “I really wouldn’t mind staying outside. I despise these parties, too. The elves dance like they fight—as if they’re standing on clouds or floating in water. The way they move rubs me wrong.”

  I turned my head to the side, whispering over my shoulder, “At least you don’t have to dance. I will have to. Quit bitching.”

  “Says the feline,” he snarked softly. “You like dancing, my king—and you look good while doing it.”

  “Not with elves. I cannot
stand twirling about with them.” I flashed my fangs over my shoulder. “This night is already horrible enough. Just watch my Fae damned back, and quit complaining.”

  My friend instantly quieted and nodded curtly, his keen eyes finally roving over the crowd to do as he needed to—protect me. “Apologies, Your Royal Highness. You know I am a horrible dancer, and I am anxious someone will ask me at a party like this.”

  “Avoid all shifters. Problem solved.”

  I turned my attention back to the front doors—the rounded doors were at least made for a royal castle’s entrance, large and imposing, so I didn’t have to duck when I entered. I headed straight for the wine, lifting a flute off a shaking servant’s tray, each delicate glass wobbling as she blinked in a fearful daze at my person. I curled my top lip in abhorrence and turned back to face my companion—knowing a few of my other guards were slipping inside a certain empty castle through windows.

  I sipped at the wine and rubbed at my chest again—Princess Trixie was extremely nervous, tediously so. It was a distraction I didn’t need right now. I snarled, “At least it’s the wine from our kingdom.” I took another heady gulp.

  Bishop snickered softly, still vigilant in his duty. Elves were starting to swarm inside like bees, their disturbing eyes darting everywhere—and quickly skidding away from mine in fright. He remarked, “I won’t be drinking tonight. Have one for me.”

  I believe I will.

  I finished the glass and took another from the shaking tray.

  A guard attired in red dipped low before me, in a deep bow. I wanted to reach out and slice his pointed ears off…but I behaved. From his lowered position, he requested, “If you will follow me, Your Royal Highness? I have been instructed to show you to the ballroom.”

  I took a smaller sip from my new wine flute, staring down at the back of his head where he stared at the spotless floor, steady and calm. This elf held no fear of me—stupid. “The other rulers are already meeting?” They were nowhere in sight.

  “They are, Your Royal Highness. My king and his soul mate will be making their appearance shortly.”