I snorted softly and placed the pencil inside the book, holding the page for her, and I closed the tome. I leaned to set it on my nightstand, but I paused, my eyebrows furrowing deeply over my dark eyes. I exchanged the book on the table for a…gift…Princess Trixie had left for me lying there.
There was a handwritten note tucked within.
Shifter,
You didn’t seem pleased when Father spoke of your birthday, but I think you may like this gift. It is for your portrait.
From,
The woman who knows you sent guards into her castle. The flower is mine, asshole. Better luck next time.
I bared my teeth, my fingers tightening on the gift.
Now, I knew why she was here. To gloat.
Apparently, my Fae damned guards had been messy at their work. None had mentioned that. They’d merely indicated they hadn’t found the pink bloom and then scampered away with their heads hanging low.
I crumpled the note in my fist and tossed it aside.
Fae dammit. I needed that fucking flower.
I untied the scarf with extreme irritation, uncaring if I tore the material—doing so a few times. But I halted in place as the gift was exposed. My black eyebrows edged together, an intricately carved wooden frame of this mountain staring back up at me, not a gift meant to gloat. I dropped the torn scarf and picked the note back up off the floor, reading it more slowly.
I blinked, my attention gradually moving to the one portrait I had in my private bedchamber—the portrait of my mother.
I cleared my throat quietly and swapped the frames. Silently, I placed the old one and the note inside the drawer and walked into my bathroom to bury the torn scarf in my wastebasket, far under everything else so the elf didn’t see its remains—not entirely sure why I was doing so, but it felt right. I straightened and grunted, crossing my arms and glaring at the wastebasket.
Mayhap I should just toss it over the balcony.
I shook my head, whispering, “This is absurd.”
The new items in my bathroom drew my attention, pulling me away from my jumbled thoughts. There were many, many new items here, too. I stared in disbelief, turning in a slow circle, my eyes widening on my face. “What in the Fae fuck?”
“Why did you take so long to get back here?” Princess Trixie asked.
I snapped my gaze in her direction.
She stood at the doorway, rubbing at her sleepy eyes, the sweater covering her body like a blanket it was so bulky on her tiny frame.
Mayhap, she looked…adorable? I wasn’t sure.
I leaned my hips back against my full counter and smoothly placed my legs in front of that damned wastebasket. I certainly couldn’t tell her that I’d been obtaining information about Caspian from Bishop’s snitch, Malid. “Bishop wanted to speak with me about our soul mating. He had many questions.” And he had.
She yawned behind her right fist—her bitty fangs peeking out. My Fae damned soul mate tipped her head inside my bathroom, asking, “So what do you think?” A haughty smirk started to grow on her lips, knowing damned well this wasn’t something I was expecting.
I rumbled darkly, “What is all this, elf?”
“You said I could sleep here when I wish.” She waved her hands at the bathroom, the arms of my sweater comically flopping to and fro over her hands. “I will need necessities when I do so.”
“These are all necessities?” I questioned dryly.
“Of course.” She smiled sugar sweetly. “After all, I am a helpless female who can’t do anything without the help of a male. So I thought it best to make sure I am comfortable while living as such.”
Ah. There we go. Here comes the gloating.
I needed to cut that off before it began.
I lifted one eyebrow, purring, “While it is unfortunate that my guards were caught, you well know the flower is safer with me.”
Princess Trixie snorted and crossed her arms. “The bloody flower is mine. It was gifted to me. And that is where it shall stay until I decide what to do with it.” Her emerald eyes traveled down to my midsection, where her regard stayed. Her lips quirked up on one side while she examined my stomach. “Just as the seed stayed with you. Through all of your deceptions the last time I was here, you did tell the truth about certain things. I certainly will not be able to find the seed, no matter how hard I snoop.”
Instantly, I stood up straight. “What have you uncovered that I don’t know about?”
“May I bite you?” She lifted an irritated eyebrow.
My teeth ground together. “No.”
“Precisely so. I will not be telling you what I know.” She rested her left shoulder against the doorframe. “You wanted to have a child outside Fae laws—preferably with someone of your own kind. If you think for even a moment I’m handing over that flower, you are out of your Fae damned mind. Your kingdom will not be the only one that is saved.” She waved a hand at my body, the sweater swaying in the air. “And you know your dick is mine now. How in the Fairy do you still expect to mate without it? Because I know you do. Your underhanded actions tonight do not say otherwise.”
The elf heir was showing her backbone.
It was not particularly welcome right now.
I rubbed my hands over my face swiftly, knowing she would not like the hard answer. I dropped my hands and stared brutally into her eyes, explaining harshly—truthfully, “I plan to invite another woman to our bed. Merely for the purpose of procreation. Once I’m ready to cum, I will pull out of you and cum into her.”
Her emerald elven eyes didn’t blink.
Not one word fell from her red lips.
I lifted my eyebrows, my tiger fangs appearing without my permission. I growled. “It will not be for pleasure, elf.”
My fucking soul mate inhaled heavily once, and turned around, walking away from me with her back perfectly straight.
I charged out of the bathroom, following in her silent wake. I stood in the middle of my bedchamber, watching closely as she climbed back into my bed using the stool I had purchased for her. The elf pulled the covers over herself this time, rolling and turning her back to me.
I waited a full minute in the strained hush.
But she still did not say anything.
“What else did you expect?” I snarled, leaning forward in my wrath. “It is only the firstborn who can have the royal power. How else do you think I can confidently obtain an heir for my people?”
“I do not know yet. There is still much I need to learn,” she murmured, unmoving on my bed—but her quiet tone was made of steel. “You can take your plan and shove it straight up your ass, shifter. That will not be happening, and I will not hear you say those words again.”
I rocked back on my heels, glaring at the back of her head.
She pulled the blanket up higher on her shoulder. “I hope you liked your birthday gift, asshole.”
Like a punch to my nose, my head whipped back at her soft words. I growled and stomped past my fireplace, ignoring the baubles she had brought with her that sat on the mantle. I snatched my traveling bag off the ground and stormed into my closet, muttering curses the entire time. I disregarded her clothing that now lined a portion of my wardrobe, and dropped my bag, stripping down bare. I tossed my dirty clothes into a hamper, wanting to tear them apart.
I huffed out a breath and stopped for a moment, attempting to regain some composure in my ire.
My nose crinkled in irritation…
I looked inside my Fae-spark for her emotions.
Fury.
Possessiveness.
Confusion.
Hurt…
My claws sliced out. What else had she expected?
I was the King of Shifters, a tiger who does what he must.
Brutally. Savagely. Always.
“This is Fae fucking bullshit,” I spat.
I shook out my hands, sheathing my claws. I stomped back to my bed, my feet loud and abrasive on the stone floor. I hissed as I lifted myself onto my bed
, uncaring if I unsettled her.
I forcefully yanked the covers down, sliding beneath them, focusing on my own comfort. I muttered, “I hoped you liked my gift, as well.”
Princess Trixie reached behind her and shoved plenty of blanket between us, piling it high in an effort to keep space between our bodies.
She sniffed. “It is old.”
Bitch.
I snarled, “Shall I throw it over the balcony, then?”
“Do as you wish,” she stated primly.
Cunt.
A cruel smile lifted my lips. “I think I will.” I rolled onto my side and reached under the blankets, my hands clutching her hips. I gripped them tighter when she flinched at the touch and pulled her fragile, tiny body across the mattress—her back now flush with my chest. I draped my arm over her small waist, her entire frame still from shock. “May you have sweet dreams, my horrible soul mate.”
Princess Trixie drew in a deep breath, then shouted with all her might—her body vibrating with it, “I hate the fucking Fae!”
I rested my cheek against the back of her head, chuckling softly against her ear. I whispered wickedly, “No more than I do.”
The elf’s shoulders heaved in fury, pulling the cover closer to her chest and stuffing part of it under her head for additional support. She muttered, “If you snore in my ear all night, I will cut off your nose.”
“I only snore when I am stressed,” I purred, tightening my arm around her body. I bit her earlobe—hard—her head jerking just so. With her flesh between my teeth, I rumbled, “So it is a good thing that I am not tense, elf.”
She whacked my forehead with the back of her hand. “Do not try me right now, shifter. I will not play nice.”
My nostrils flared. I didn’t release my hold on her.
“Fine! I will not cut off your Fae damned nose.” Princess Trixie nudged her head back, bumping mine. “Release me.”
I laughed gently, letting go of her ear.
Then I licked her neck, inhaling slowly against her skin, keeping my face against her vulnerable flesh, reminding her who she was speaking to.
My illegal soul mate sighed severely. “Where is Penelope when I need her?”
Right down the stairs.
I leaned my head back and rested my cheek on my pillow, smiling cruelly at the back of her head.
“Shifter?” she grumbled.
I grunted.
“It feels as if you are naked right now.”
“Yes, I normally sleep in the nude.” I softly yanked on her sweater. “You could remove this. I would not mind.”
“Oh my Fae,” Princess Trixie groaned under her breath.
I teased, “Is that a no?”
“Most assuredly, that is a no.”
“Hmm.” I rubbed the soft sweater between my fingers, content that she was now talking once more. I asked, “How did you know that I ate the seed?”
She stated innocently, “What else would you do with a Seed of Creation? You would plant it within your body to grow.”
I snorted. “And how did you know that?”
“I am a great guesser.”
I tapped my fingers on her stomach, waiting.
Princess Trixie growled softly. “Fine! I read some of your book before Bishop took it from me.”
That was a lie, too. She would have needed to read all of the tome to put the pieces together. But it was a decent lie this time, much better than that first attempt to deceive me.
What was she hiding…
I asked calmly, “Has a Fae been in contact with you?”
“No.” She snorted.
This made no sense.
I only knew that specific flower was needed, because of one small passage in the SEED OF CREATION book: The pink petals of a lady’s garden open for the one who cries in the night.
I released my hold and rolled onto my back, stuffing my hands under my head, and stared at the ceiling.
Perchance, I was looking at this wrong.
My eyes flicked to the side, watching my soul mate.
If that passage was taken literally…she might fit the role.
I looked back to the ceiling as my brows puckered.
Did she cry in the night?
What would she have to cry about?
My soul mate had everything that could be desired.
I held completely still, only moving to breathe, waiting for her to fall asleep. It did not take long, her mind and body exhausted from the day’s events. I listened to her deep, even breathing for a few more minutes, and then I raised myself on one of my arms slowly, leaning my head over hers. I studied the side of her face.
There were no tears.
My mouth thinned as I lay back down onto my back, grunting softly in surprise when she followed, her tiny body rolling over toward me. I watched as she mumbled in her sleep, tossing her arm over my stomach, and squirming a leg over my thigh, snuggling as close as she could. I blew out a breath when one of her hairs landed on my lips, her head resting on my shoulder.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling again.
I had an elf clinging to me like a monkey.
Never would I have thought this to be my future.
After a moment, I wrapped my arms around her body, holding my bothersome soul mate safely within my arms, inhaling jasmine so deeply it penetrated my mind—tiny, white flowers dancing behind my eyes when I closed them.
But my eyes flew open abruptly, wetness cooling my skin.
I jerked my head up and stared down at her face, only inches away from mine. A lone tear track marred her features, trailing from the corner of her eye down to my chest. I stared and gently brushed my thumb against her cheek, scrubbing the sadness away.
Emerald elven eyes fluttered open, blinking sluggishly at my hand lying on my chest in front of her face. She slurred, “Did you say something, shifter?”
“No,” I answered quietly, scrutinizing her features closely. “But what were you dreaming about just now?”
Princess Trixie’s eyes fell closed, mumbling almost incoherently, “My father.” She fell back asleep before she stopped speaking.
I rested my head back on my pillow.
I closed my eyes. The flower could stay with her. For now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Confession of a princess:
I behaved poorly.
I know this.
But if I had to do it all over again?
I would have bitten harder.
“WAKE UP,” FATHER ordered. He shook my right shoulder firmly.
My eyes shot open wide with a start, grass poking the side of my face. I groaned under my breath and rolled stiffly on the hard ground to lie on my back. I repeatedly blinked up at the leaves of an aspen tree, sunshine peeking through the limbs. I grumbled, “It is not time. The sun is still too bright.”
King Elon hissed, “Your heir sleeps too much.”
“Princess Trixie’s been studying insistently for ten days in preparation for this quest,” King Traevon retorted rigidly. “She has barely had any time to rest.”
I tossed my arm over my face, covering my eyes. “Will you two argue more quietly, please?” I’d barely gotten a decent nap in since we arrived in the Caster Kingdom and sent our Fae-gifts away. “I can sleep for just a while longer.”
Father patted the top of my head. “Louie said, ‘When the moon kisses the sun.’ That does not mean when the eclipse is full, my heir. It means when it first begins.”
“That does make sense,” I mumbled reluctantly. I moved my arm and pushed on my hands to sit up. The grumpy expression I wore wouldn’t be disappearing anytime soon. My king had told the truth. I’d barely slept, holed up in Father’s study, reading everything I could on the Caster Kingdom. I glared sleepily into his eyes, where he sat next to me. “I am tired of being woken by you, my king.”
Father’s chin trembled in humor. “I couldn’t help that I walked in every morning to you passed out on my chair. You did need to eat sometimes.”
Queen Mikko tapped her cheek, sitting across from me. “You have a little dirt right there, Princess Trixie.”
“And grass in your hair,” King Athon rumbled, sitting on the other side of my person. His back rested against the trunk of the aspen tree, his left arm lying over his bent left knee. He waggled a finger at my red locks, chuckling quietly—evilly. “There may be a bug in there, too.”
I blinked and then scrubbed at my cheek roughly. I glowered at the shifter king, but my eyes darted back to my father. “Do I really have a bug in my hair?”
Father leaned to the side, inspecting my head, his emerald gaze scanning quickly. He raised his left hand, snatched something from my hair, and tossed it far behind me before I could see it. “Not anymore, my daughter.”
I shuddered. Gross.
King Traevon continued to examine my head, picking blades of grass out of my hair one by one—there were many.
“I suppose we should remove our crowns now,” Queen Alora complained in her high-pitched voice—loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Luckily, there was no one in close proximity. The edge of this swamp was a perfect location for a clandestine meeting point, the caster queen choosing well. Queen Alora reluctantly took off her crown and placed it carefully in her traveling bag. She sighed, “The kiss is nigh.”
I looked down at the green grass beside my right leg, hiding my smile as the other rulers grumbled and removed their own crowns.
The King of Shifters placed the strap of his traveling bag over his shoulder and swung the satchel behind him as he leaned forward to stand—smacking me right in the shoulder with its heavy contents.
I glared up at him as he rose to his full height. My mouth stayed shut, though. The longer I’d had to think of his “plan,” the crosser I’d become. I’d been stewing for ten days, wanting to rip his dick off every time I thought about our disagreement that night. I hadn’t said one word to him since we arrived, and I planned to keep it that way until I had to speak to him for the quest.
Crypts and Crimes (Trixie Towers Book 3) Page 15