I feel Lexi’s hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me to step away from the edge, and I look to see Prince Salem’s hand on Des in a similar fashion. They’re hemming us in, protecting us as we take this giant leap into certain doom.
Ronin’s voice is enhanced by an orator charm, which isn’t all that uncommon a spell. His cadence carries out across the grounds, quieting the angry mob. “Lilya is my great-granddaughter now, heir to the throne, along with Prince Destino. You’ve always loved him, and I trust that in time, you will love her as I do.”
My head whips in Ronin’s direction, my mouth falling open. Trust, sure, but love? Is he saying that because it sounds like the right thing to present to the people, or does he mean it? I don’t let go of Des when I reach out to motion Ronin closer. I have to know if a dad loves me. I have to see if it’s real, or if it’s being done for show.
I can tell I’ve thrown Ronin off his speech, but he doesn’t get mad at me. Instead he takes Lexi’s place beside me, his hand fastening on the small of my back. “Yes, darling?”
“You love me?” I should wait until the speech part is over, but I haven’t heard a dad say that to me… maybe ever. If the General claimed he loved me, I don’t recall it, and can’t picture how false the lie might look if it ever twisted his tongue. But Ronin doesn’t appear worried or wicked when he claims me as his.
A small smile toys with the corners of his mouth. “Do you think it’s everyone I stay beside while they’re on their sickbed? Do you think I trust randomly?”
This time, I do let go of Des so I can fold my body into Ronin’s arms. He feels like safety and strength, like nothing could ever go wrong in the world if he’s near. “I love you, too,” I manage, croaking out the sentiment I’ve only ever had cause to say to Fiora until these past couple of months. Now I’m literally surrounded by love, and I can’t imagine being spoiled by anything greater.
He turns back to the crowd with me tucked in his arms. “Lilya saved my life after it was brought to my attention that someone I had allowed to get close tried to poison me. She saved me at great personal sacrifice, throwing herself on death’s door so Drexdenberg wouldn’t be without their king.”
This only quiets some of the outright hatred to mere grumbling, but I’ll take it.
Ronin commands the crowd with a fervor that befits a ruler, all the while keeping me in his arms. “As much as this union might look strange to you all, it makes perfect sense that Prince Destino would search everywhere until he found someone worthy of being by his side.” Then he kisses the top of my head and returns me to Des, who holds me like a man should. Like he’s proud to be with me.
Ronin motions for Harris to join him near the edge of the balcony as he grips the railing. Ronin’s chin is raised but his shoulders are tight. I can see his neck muscles strained from behind. When his hand coils around the nape of Harris’ neck, the motion looks congenial—grandson and grandfather—but I can see the tendons tightening and Harris flinching through a forced smile.
“I know many of you wonder when I’ll hand the throne down to Prince Harris. I daresay I hoped the day would come when I felt a peace in removing the crown from my head and passing it to him. But that day has never come, and now I know why. After careful investigation, I’ve learned it was my own grandson who’s been poisoning me, introducing a toxin that would slowly drive me insane, so the crown would be forcibly taken from me and given to my next of kin.”
Harris’ whole body tenses as a nervous rebuttal pours from his lips. “Your majesty, of course I would never…”
Ronin’s black suit matches Des’, and I can see in that simple choice that he’s given the people subliminal cues to show who he’s aligned himself with. The blood red silk lining matches my dress, and the vest he wears is the same as Des’. Ronin’s bowtie is fastened perfectly, because this is a day he planned to the last detail.
Harris is wearing a light blue suit, looking like the odd man out.
Ronin addresses the people with a smile that looks to be on the verge of psychotic. “My healer confirmed the poison had been in my system long before Lilya came into our lives, so in case any of you worry I’ve been hoodwinked by this fair fae, rest assured, that is not the case. Sometimes friends can be painted up to look like your enemy, while other times, your enemy is lurking in the skin of your friend, and dare I say it, your family.” I freeze when Ronin’s hand twitches at his side. He reaches inside his waistcoat, his other hand still firmly affixed to the back of Harris’ neck.
“Please! It was the only way! You will never give up the throne, and you know your time has passed! The shifters are running out of water, and will soon attack Drexdenberg to take our wells by force!”
Prince Salem steps forward and grabs the railing, looking so formidable, I whimper without meaning to. “I command the shifter army. We have no plans to attack Drexdenberg.”
Harris’ voice takes on a lower pitch, warning with such an ominous quality that I can’t tell if he’s making this all up, or if it’s really true. “The fae have already shorted us their blood shipment! Every month, another box goes mysteriously missing. They have plans to starve us into extinction, and yet we welcome one of them onto our throne? King Ronin’s mind has been slipping for quite some time, but this seals it! Either he is against us and is in bed with the wicked fae, or he’s gone senile and should be cared for away from the duties of the crown!” The vengeful prince’s accusations make me wince, but it’s Ronin’s quick-moving arm that cracks a scream from my lips.
The entire nation howls its shock when Ronin’s concealed silver dagger flashes in the moonlight before it plunges into Harris’ chest. With an impassive expression, Ronin says to Harris, “I release you from your duty.” Then he throws his grandson’s body over the stone railing, setting the tone of fearful respect for his rule. “When I am ready to hand down the throne in one year’s time, it will go to Prince Destino, who will rule with his new bride. Embrace your future king and queen as I have, or plot against us and join the deceased.”
Melinda shrieks as she clings to the railing, her face gaunt with the horror that befell her husband. Ronin doesn’t come after her, though. His dagger is content to drip with only Harris’ blood.
She lunges for Ronin with fury baring her teeth. Benny intervenes, putting her in a hold with her arms behind her back and her throat gripped in the crook of his elbow while she spits and screams for Ronin’s swift death.
Of course, the guards listen to the king, and not a raging, possibly co-conspiring, princess.
My knees threaten to give out, but my heart leaps toward Des, whose cry of horror breaks my heart. Yes, he doesn’t like his parents, but I don’t think he ever counted on having to watch his own father die in front of the entire nation. Des is stunned, his chest spasming not with tears but with what looks like the beginnings of uncontrolled terror.
“Help me get him out of here!” I shout to Prince Salem, who looks just as shocked as I feel.
My words snap Prince Salem to the present, and he grabs Des under the arms, yanking him inside the castle on unsteady feet. Lexi and I help Prince Salem lower Des to the floor. I slap my husband’s face that looks pale and in the throes of too much shock. Prince Salem sits behind him, propping up his best friend so Des doesn’t fall backward as his spine turns to jelly. There’s no fresh air in this room that looks to be some sort of all-purpose study or receiving area. The pangs of suffocation that come with a panic attack I can tell are gripping Des around the chest.
My alarm focuses when it’s clear Des is the one to worry about. Everything else takes a back seat to his pain. “Deep breaths. Look at me. In and out.”
Des’ gaze is listless until I kneel in his eyeline, and suddenly his whole body comes to life. “Did my father just die? Did the king murder my father?”
I don’t know how to spin this into something prettier to touch, so I sew my mouth shut on the subject and nod. “Can you get the prince some water?” I ask of the nearest guar
d, who looks at me like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. It’s clear he doesn’t want to obey me, but knows that maybe he now has to. He freezes, which I guess is better than outright defiance.
Benny growls as he wrestles Melinda around us toward the door. “Did you hear her? Princess Lilya of Drexdenberg gave you an order. Move!” Perhaps the guards won’t listen to me, and maybe Des is too shocked to speak for himself, but Benny is the head of the Drexdenberg royal security, and puts his authority to good use.
I shoot Benny a look of gratitude, to which he nods in solidarity before marching the spitting and shrieking Melinda out of the room. Then I turn my focus back to Des while Lexi paces to my left, running his hand through his blond hair as he soaks in his best friend’s trauma. “Sweetheart, talk to me. I’m here.”
Des is trembling. “He could’ve locked Harris up. He could’ve made just as big a spectacle of the crime that way, but he waited until the entire kingdom was watching so he could murder my father!” Des winces, as if he’s arguing with himself. “But the seed of doubt Harris planted in the minds of the people was purposeful. This was his plan, to get all of Drexdenberg to doubt the king’s rule.”
Harris plotted and planned his grandfather’s demise, so in my heart, I don’t begrudge Ronin plotting and planning Harris’ demise. Though, I don’t say any of this to Des. Instead of trying to control his feelings that are running wild and unchecked, I wrap my arms around my quaking husband, holding onto him while he rests against Prince Salem.
Des can’t say or do much, so when his arm reaches up to grip my shoulder, I give him my whole body, holding him as tight as he’ll let me. Prince Salem clutches Des’ shoulder with one arm, and dares to wrap his other arm around me, gathering us together under his umbrella of protection. He holds us together on the floor while Des’ world falls apart.
Des’ body shudders, and while I don’t think he’s crying, he’s going through something awful that’s going to wreck him more than he can handle in public.
“We should get him to his bedroom,” Lexi suggests in a grave tone. “Come on, brother.”
“Aye.” Prince Salem and I each wrap one of Des’ arms over our shoulders, helping him move his legs down the winding hallways until we finally reach our room.
Lexi pulls the sheets down, but Des collapses before we make it to the bed. Prince Salem and I carefully lower Des to the ground, resuming the same position we had moments before—Prince Salem supporting both Des and I from behind while I wrap Des in my arms to stabilize him as best I know how. Lexi rips the blanket from the bed and drapes it over Des and me, and then lowers himself to sit on Des’ other side.
“What happens next?” Lexi asks. I’m not sure he wants an answer from us; it’s more like he’s checking in with the growing void, trying to find reason in the chaos.
“We stay right here,” I rule. “None of us gets up until we can all stand. Des, you stay right here for as long as you want. We aren’t going anywhere.”
Lexi gives a firm nod, but it’s Prince Salem who gathers Des and I tighter in his long arms. He leans against the wall, settling in to get comfortable for as long as Des’ shock takes to find the volume at which it’s going to torture him for the days and months to come.
I don’t ever expect warmth from Prince Salem, but his cheek rests on Des’ forehead like he’s sharing in his friend’s agony. His eyes close in what looks like reverence, and then pure beauty spills from his full lips.
“‘The Mallark cries as far it flies,
and never thinks to crow.
When last it cries before it dies,
the clouds will take him home.’”
I never thought I’d hear that poem again. It’s an old shifter tribute that’s recited whenever someone passes on. When anyone brought a poisoned, cursed or diseased patient to us when it was too late to save them, Fiora would close their eyes, bow her head, and fill the apartment with that sad verse.
My body doesn’t hesitate when Prince Salem stretches his back against the wall, his chest permitting me to rest against him. I know I’m selfish to think about my own anxiety at a time like this, but I’m more shaken up than I’m willing to let on. Prince Salem sees me, and doesn’t just hold Des together, but is considerate enough to cover me with his massive strength as well. My forehead falls into the crook of his neck while my hand remains over Des’ trembling heart. Prince Salem’s even breathing and tight hold on us serves to settle the angst that’s been building in the air around our huddle.
When Des finally speaks, his voice is quiet but firm. “Alex, did you know about the shortage in the blood shipments?”
Lexi rubs his forehead. “No. I don’t even know if it’s true. But the moment I get back, I’ll get to the bottom of it. If Faveda owes Drexdenberg a few shipments, we’ll settle up. I’ll make certain of it.”
Des reaches out and holds onto Lexi’s wrist. “Thank you, brother. I’m sorry I doubted you or your people.”
Lexi’s eyes tighten ever so slightly, but he doesn’t reveal his affront any more than that. “You’re a good ruler. It’s wise that you’re checking into this.”
Des’ eyes squinch shut. “I should’ve been on top of this already! I shouldn’t have needed Harris to point this out to me and the entire nation. I need to get better at this.” If Des is capable of arguing with himself, he’s equally capable of giving himself a pep talk. “I will get better at this. Now that I’m going to inherit the throne, I’ll pay better attention to the details. I need to start drinking less. The people deserve that.” Des swipes at his eyes as tears bloom. “We are all the things we hate about each other, and there is nothing I hate about you three.” He meets my gaze as he quotes my words from weeks ago, when he’d been listening in on my lecture aimed at Ronin.
My ring feels right placed over his heart, like it belongs there. The warmth from his non-duplicitous nature strokes my hand, and I find I’m so very glad to be married to this man. “Spoken like a true king.” I study his tears with a firm resolve that I will help him however I can, learning how to rule as best I’m able.
There’s a quiet that falls, stitching us together as grief rocks Des in irreparable ways. But we hold him together, the three of us, promising that on our next leg of the journey, we’ll be there so none of us falls completely apart.
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Wicked Prince
Enjoy a free preview of Wicked Prince,
Book two in the Territorial Mates series.
1
Blue Eyes, Teddy Bear
Destino
My wife drools in her sleep. I don’t know why I find this hilarious, but I can’t stifle my snigger when I round the corner and see her with her arm extended across the table in the back corner of the library of the castle. Her lavender curls are sprawled out on the desktop, her plump lips open just enough for me to catch the glimmer of drool trailing down the corner of her mouth.
“Did she fall asleep?” King Ronin asks as he comes to stand beside me, juggling three leather-bound books.
Great-grandfather, not King Ronin. Because apparently, we’re all familial now, so I don’t need to use his title. Maybe I’ll go with calling him just plain Ronin, like Lily’s been bold enough to do.
My smile fades and my back straightens as I nod. It’s my hope I can convince us both that I’m a man fit for ruling someday, and not his goofball great-grandson who’s only good for making the nation laugh and swoon.
I try not to let it matter that my great-grandfather is watching my wife sleep. There’s something too intimate about the way he watches her. I know that look. It’s almost the same one I wear when my eyes wander to Lily, as they often do. Great-grandfather and I could pass for brothers, maybe even twins, though he won’t leave his room unless the sharp edge of his jaw is cleanshaven, and I keep tight to my ne
atly groomed five o’clock shadow. Though King Ronin’s been frozen to look in his young thirties like me, he’s decades older than that, and should know better than to gaze at Lily like that. She’s my wife, not his.
And soon she’ll be Alex’s wife, too. Sharing her affections with my best friend doesn’t bother me one bit. Anyone else, though, and I become a possessive wanker. It’s not a gracious color on me.
Carefully as I can, I lift the hand that’s resting atop the book she’s fallen asleep on and curl her slender arm around my neck. Though I’m fluid with my movements, she startles when my arms tuck under her thighs and behind her back, lifting her from the hard-backed wooden chair. Her eyes open as she swipes at the corner of her mouth. “Oh! Did I… I did it again, didn’t I.”
“Fell asleep studying? It’s the second time this week, but a vampire’s schedule isn’t easy to adopt. Up all night and sleeping during the day is a hard transition.”
“I’m awake now. I can study some more.”
She finds my smile, even when she’s not trying to. “The sun’s shining, so upstairs we go. Any morning I get to carry you to bed is a good one in my book.”
“Mm. It’s quiet,” she comments as I make my way out of the library, leaving King Ronin and the entirety of my family’s collections of books behind us for a few hours.
“The protesters have gone home. Probably because they finally adore you as much as I do now.”
She doesn’t buy my white lie. “Ha, ha. They’ve only stopped shouting curses at me because the sun’s up and they have to go indoors. They’re refueling for tonight when they can start fresh. I do hope they find a better rhyme for my name, though. Silly? Filly? It’s like they’re not even trying. I think it’s because they secretly love me.”
I love that she’s thick-skinned enough to make a joke of their hatred. If there’s anything that seals her as the one for me, it’s the fact that she can find cause to make light of even the most dire of circumstances.
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