Crown of Fangs: A WhyChoose Romance (Throne of Wolves Book 3)

by River Ramsey

  As intense as the pleasure is, it leaves me wanting more and by the time he raises his head and frees his cock from his trousers, I’m more than ready to take him.

  Christopher slips an arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest, his crown pressed against my slick entrance. I bite his bottom lip greedily and the pain makes him growl in pleasure as he slides into me, our bodies pressed close and hot together.

  His hand slips under my camisole to caress my breast and as he pinches my nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, another thrill shoots down my spine. Every thrust is electric and I dig my hands into his hair to keep him closer.

  He’s all the way inside of me now, and I can feel him so deep it throbs. He’s so hot and stiff, like a molten rod searing through me, but the heat is all pleasure, no pain. I moan against his lips, rocking against him as I grip his shoulders and he fondles my breasts. Our hands search and roam so desperately, like we’re exploring some uncharted territory and desperate for conquest.

  The magic keeps rising, but unlike before, it’s not overwhelming. It feels like soothing, healing waters, and sunlight streaming in, cleansing everything it touches.

  I briefly wonder if Mace was right. If this is what it means to be connected to each of them in a different way. To feel something I can only feel with each man, and him alone. And together…

  The thought makes me shiver in the best way as I crest over another wave of pleasure.

  “Christopher,” I gasp, kissing him hungrily once more. His tongue dives deep into my mouth, warring with mine as he fills me with his seed and I feel the shift of energy, exhilarating and breathtaking.

  When our lips finally break, we’re both panting, gazing into each other’s eyes. Neither says a word for a moment that feels like forever, but what can I say about what just happened? Words don’t even come close to describing it. I just know I feel safe and warm in his arms, and for the moment, I don’t want it to end.

  He holds me close and whispers my name, which feels far more intimate than any other words he could choose to utter right now. I close my eyes and sigh as I relax fully in his arms. “Just for a minute,” I plead softly, knowing he’ll understand what it means. “I just want to hold you like this for a minute.”

  He kisses me again and nuzzles my neck, reassuring me that the feeling is mutual.

  Eighteen

  It’s been two months since Mace was captured—or rather, freed, even though I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way. So far, he’s been the perfect houseguest, consulting with my current physician on the matters of the pregnancy that make him an expert.

  The others aren’t happy about his presence, but they’ve found a way to coexist and to his credit, Christopher has kept his promise about running off. I’ve even managed to convince the three of them that it’s more expedient to share a bed on the nights when none of them are willing to leave me alone.

  I can’t help but wonder... how long will this equilibrium last? It almost feels too good to be true, but I know there’s always a catch. Life has taught me that, if nothing else.

  I walk into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich when I hear voices coming from further down the hall. I creep out when I realize one of them belongs to Raoul and move as close as I can without making any noise to alert them.

  He’s talking to James, and from the tones they’re both using, I take it this is far from a pleasant conversation.

  “This is absurd,” Raoul growls. “The Pentarch will not tolerate this insolence for much longer.”

  “If the Pentarch was that close to making a decision, they’d all be here and not just you.”

  The silence tells me that his words hit their mark. Raoul lowers his voice to a menacing gravel and says, “I don’t know what you’re trying to hide, but I will get to the bottom of it. And when I do, you’re going to go the same way as every other traitor in this kingdom.”

  With that, he storms out of the room and I duck behind the wall before he can see me. At least, I hope I have. I’m still catching my breath after I hear his footsteps disappear, but James calls, “You can come out now.”

  Shit. Guess I wasn’t as stealthy as I’d hoped. “How did you know I was here?” I ask, peeking out from behind the corner to find him leaning in the doorway with an easy smile.

  “I always know where you are... and where you aren’t. Surprisingly, that doesn’t make it any easier to keep track of you.”

  I sigh, wandering over to him. “What was all that about?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  I give him a look. “As grateful as I am that you’ve had a change of heart about this pregnancy, I think I can handle a little stress.”

  “It’s not exactly little,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Raoul is just throwing a tantrum about Mace’s pardon. Since the Pentarch ordered the execution, it makes them look weaker.”

  “But Albien is King,” I protest. “He can do whatever he wants.”

  “You know that’s not entirely true, Dani,” he says patiently. “Just because he now has grounds to issue a pardon doesn’t mean they’re happy about it. There’s fallout to every decision a royal makes.”

  “I know,” I mumble. Why anyone would want to be King, let alone Queen, is beyond me. “Do you think he really has anything?”

  “I doubt it. If he did, he wouldn’t be here making hollow threats,” James says with a sigh. “But it’s only a matter of time before someone gets a whiff that there’s magic involved. There are psychics who can tell these things. People they could hire, if they start asking the right questions.”

  “Aren’t psychics forbidden, too?”

  “There are the people who make the rules, and then the ones who follow them. Not much overlap between the two.”

  “I guess not,” I sigh. “What are we going to do?”

  “For the moment, nothing. I’ll take care of it,” he says, kissing my forehead.

  I want to believe him. I know he’ll try, but if Raoul has turned against us, I’m sure it has more than a little bit to do with my rejection of him. Now that Albien has taken a step to put himself toe to toe with the Pentarch rather than staying behind them, things can only get more complicated.

  Nineteen

  It’s late when I find myself wandering into the kitchen. I’ve been tired lately, but that doesn’t mean sleep comes easily. The babies stir often, and no matter who I’m sleeping with, I keep having nightmares.

  The strangest thing is, I can’t remember what they’re about when I wake up.

  I know the only way I managed to get downstairs unnoticed is because Christopher is exhausted from training and Rowan sleeps like the dead.

  There are usually servants around even during the wee hours of the morning, but I’d rather just make something myself. When I arrive in the kitchen and find Albien at the counter, I realize our twin thing extends to a midnight hankering for cheese sandwiches.

  “Dani,” he says with a tired smile, suggesting that he’s not awake for lack of exhaustion. “Trouble sleeping?”

  “Seems to go hand in hand with pregnancy,” I sigh, sitting at the counter across from him. “What about you?”

  “Just a bit of anxiety,” he says sheepishly, offering me half of his sandwich. I take it, since he’s better at cooking than I am.

  “Thanks. What are you nervous about?” I ask, taking a bite.

  He glances at the door to make sure we’re alone. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “If I couldn’t, I’d never have ended up in this much trouble,” I answer wryly.

  He laughs. “I’m about to do something incredibly reckless. An utter violation of royal protocol that would have our parents turning over in their graves.”

  “Boy, you really know how to set up a story, don’t you?”

  He rolls his eyes, pulling something out of his pocket. When he slides the small box across to me, I open it warily. Inside, sitting on a bed of satin, is one of the most beautiful r
ings I’ve ever seen. The band is sleek and platinum, with a simple yet elegant round diamond sitting in the center.

  My eyes widen as I take in the meaning. “Albien,” I whisper. “Jenna?”

  “Yes,” he murmurs thoughtfully.

  “But I thought it was forbidden!” I cry. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been rooting for this ever since I came here, but… what changed your mind?”

  “You did, I suppose,” he muses. When he sees my confusion, he continues, “No offense, but you’ve done everything the wrong way since you got here.”

  “None taken,” I mutter.

  “Be that as it may, you’ve ended up happy. Better than happy,” he says softly. “It’s just made me think about how I’ve lived my own life. Always worrying about what others will think. What the Pentarch will say. I’m not getting any younger, and while the kingdom is heading in the right direction, I must confess that my own life is not what I thought it would be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wanted to be mated by now,” he says softly. “But even though I’ve been pressured to take a mate for years, I’ve been putting it off. I come up with one excuse after another, but the truth is, my heart already knows what it wants. Settling for anything or anyone else would be a betrayal.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Albien,” I say, reaching for his hand. “I know Jenna feels the same way about you, but… how do you know she’s going to say yes?”

  My fear isn’t that she doesn’t return my brother’s love. It’s that she loves him too much to let him risk his position.

  “I don’t,” he admits. “But I can’t wait any longer. I have to tell her how I feel.” He hesitates. “Do you think she’ll like the ring? I had it made for her, but…”

  I smile. If only the rest of the kingdom knew how bashful their ruler really is. “I think she’ll love it,” I say with certainty. I can tell he put a lot of thought into designing a ring that’s elegant and tasteful, just like her.

  He lets out a breath of relief and smiles back. “Thanks. I hope so.”

  “When are you going to ask her?”

  “Tomorrow night,” he answers. “I told her I need to discuss some military matters, but it would be best if we went away from the castle.”

  “Of course,” I laugh. “No better way to get her attention than strategy.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I know she won’t like it if I do it in front of people, so I’m planning on taking her on a walk, just the two of us. There’s a spot she likes, by the water…”

  “It sounds perfect,” I assure him. “And I couldn’t be happier for you, Albien.”

  “Thank you, sister.” He squeezes my hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “I’m fine. As a matter of fact, I’m going to head back to bed,” I promise, giving him a hug before I leave.

  I can’t say my own nerves are any more settled, but being excited for my twin has given me something else to think about. This castle could use a bit of good news, even if I’m sure there will be some old-fashioned royals who fail to see it for what it is.

  Twenty

  Days tumble into weeks following Albien’s proposal and for the first time since I arrived, the castle feels like a magical place to live. The morning he woke me with a knock at the door, I was sure something was wrong, but when I saw the giddy look on his face, I realized he was just too excited to wait.

  I screamed silently with him in the hall, embracing and letting myself feel true, unadulterated joy for the first time since I could remember.

  Jenna saying yes was far from the only obstacle they would be faced with, but the day has finally come for Albien to announce his decision publicly and he looks more poised and certain than ever.

  I don’t envy him. Usually I’m the one flaunting the expectations of the Pentarch. Still, I promised to be there to support him along with the others.

  Well... except for Mace. I don’t know where he is most days, and I don’t know how to approach him. When I leave my dressing room prepared to go to the meeting, Rowan and Christopher are waiting for me. They both look dapper in their royal guard uniforms and I can’t help but smile, as nervous as I am for my twin.

  “Princess,” Rowan says gallantly. They both offer their arms and I happily take them.

  “Two handsome escorts?” I tease. “And where might the third be?”

  “Lord James is tending to some last-minute security preparations,” Christopher says in a wry tone. “You’ll have to settle for us.”

  “It’s not settling at all,” I assure him.

  The main meeting hall is lavishly decorated and servants nervously flit around to place drinks and other refreshments before the Pentarch. Raoul gives me a dirty look as I come to take my seat at the table, along with the other lords and ladies invited.

  Normally, Jenna would be the chief of security detail, but she’s conspicuously absent. I wonder if the Pentarch have noticed.

  When the doors finally open, Albien appears, looking courtly as ever. I have to purse my lips to keep from smiling at the series of gasps when he walks into the room with Jenna on his arm.

  Then again, with her long hair flowing down her shoulders and a pale blue gown fit for royalty, it’s unlikely that anyone who doesn’t know her well would recognize her. She always looks so strong and certain in her armor, but in a soft gown, she seems endearingly vulnerable and I can tell from the look in her eyes that she feels as out of place here as I did at first.

  I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile as everyone at the table stands to bow to the King. I can’t help but steal a glance at the faces of the Pentarch, who’ve been waiting quite impatiently for their King to take a mate.

  As fitting as I know Jenna to be for him, they’re nothing if not staunch traditionalists.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Albien says in a gracious tone, looking over at Jenna. He places a hand on hers, which seems to calm her down. “Today, I have the honor of presenting to you my chosen mate... Lady Jenna.”

  “But she’s a commoner,” Raoul cries, always the first to speak up if it means putting his foot in his mouth. At least the others are looking at him more distastefully than they were at Jenna a moment ago.

  A dangerous look comes into Albien’s eyes that I’ve never seen before. “There are no laws against it,” he says sharply. “And in any regard, if there were, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to revisit some of our more antiquated rules.”

  My heart thunders as I realize what he’s speaking of. The prohibition against magic. Would he really be so bold as to challenge it?

  To my relief, he moves on, putting his arm around Jenna. “The matter is not up for debate. I have chosen, and any who wish to question me may do so now and not again hereafter. Do I make myself clear?”

  The room is dead silent and when I glance over at Rowan, he’s smirking. I can’t help but do the same. It’s good to finally see the Pentarch get put in their place for a change.

  Raoul sits back down and surprisingly, no one else leaps at the chance to challenge him.

  “Good,” Albien says, his amiable self once more. “The wedding shall take place in one week’s time. Of course, you are all invited.”

  “A week?” This time, it’s me who’s responsible for the outburst, but what am I supposed to do? That’s hardly enough time to plan a wedding!

  Albien gives me a knowing look. “This is why I chose to tell you in front of a crowd, sister. I see it wasn’t as prohibitive as I’d hoped.”

  My face grows warm, but it’s only half from embarrassment. “These things take time.”

  “We’ve waited long enough,” Albien says, gazing over at Jenna. She smiles in agreement and I sigh, knowing there’s no use arguing.

  He rarely makes up his mind about something, but when he does, there’s no changing it.

  A week is an absurdly inadequate amount of time to plan a wedding, but when you’ve got an entire royal staff at your disposal, it approaches the real
m of possibility.

  So far, we’ve got the venue all set and the chef was as angry as I was when he found out he had a week to plan and make a gourmet feast for hundreds of royals, but I finally talked him down off the ledge.

  Now, there’s just the matter of finishing the seating arrangements in time. The social network among royals is far more intricate and touchy than I ever imagined. For what Eternus lacks in brutality, it makes up for in complication.

  There’s the Duke who hates his cousin, and the cousin who absolutely can’t be seated next to any of the Pentarch, and so on. Bad blood everywhere. Of course, my inbox has been inundated with special seating requests. Everyone wants a moment of Albien’s time. There are a few requests to be seated at my table, but I’m sure they’re from people who don’t realize I’m the one reading the letters.

  Once I realize an entire morning has passed, I leave the study and head for the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, the castle begins to spin and I find it hard to keep steady on my feet.

  I’m sure I’m going to hit the ground when steady arms wrap around me from behind. I know that comforting scent, but it’s not anyone I would’ve expected.

  “Mace?” I stare up at him, bewildered, as he holds me in his arms.

  “Easy,” he murmurs, looking down at me in concern.

  “How did you—?”

  “I happened to be coming down the hall and I saw you,” he answers, a bit too quickly. I’m not sure I believe him, but I can’t imagine why he’d be following me when I’ve scarcely been able to find him since he came to the castle.

  “Thank you,” I murmur as he sets me back on my feet.

  “Have you eaten anything?” he asks, pressing a hand to my forehead.

  “No,” I admit, feeling like an idiot for neglecting such a basic routine. “Guess I got a bit carried away with all the prep.”

  He gives me a knowing look and takes my arm to lead me toward the kitchen. “Come. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself in your condition.”