Royal Command (Royal Watch Book 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  I wanted to go home. But to my home. To my family.

  “I need to call my parents.” I broke away from Theo again, everything hurting where he touched, and headed up the stairs. He clutched my elbow, walking close to me, making me itchy and claustrophobic.

  “I had my assistant call them, keeping them up to date. They wanted to drive down immediately, but we convinced them you were being properly looked after and there was no point. They will see you tomorrow anyway.”

  Tomorrow?

  “Spencer!” Eloise cried the moment we entered the palace, her body colliding with mine. “Oh my god, we were so worried. Are you okay?”

  Flinching at her touch, she instantly stepped back. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Are you in pain?” Theo reached for my hand.

  “Of course she is, wanker,” Eloise chided him. “She was almost blown up.”

  “Nice, El. Thought we weren’t going to mention that.”

  “Like she’s not aware she was in a bombing?”

  “No,” he yipped at her. “That she was almost killed.”

  They bickered, and I strolled right by them, heading up the stairs and down the hall toward my room.

  “Spencer!” Theo called after me.

  I had shut down. Ripping off the stupid dress I had on, I headed straight into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Blood and debris still painted the ends of my hair, even after the nurse cleaned me up.

  “Can I get you anything?” Theo followed me in, his hand running over my tangled hair and down my back, his voice going low. “I have to meet with someone in ten minutes, but I can join you for a bit if you want.”

  “No.” I sounded cold. Distant. A therapist had come to my room, but I told her I was fine. After a while, she gave up but warned me I might experience some PTSD and to call her.

  Right now, I didn’t feel anything. “Go to your meeting. I just want to sleep.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I forced my mouth to curve into a smile, patting his chest. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  His brows furrowed, “Okay, but I’ll be back the moment I can, okay?”

  I nodded, too tired to say anything else.

  “Okay.” He kissed my temple, heading out of the room. “I’ll be back…I love you.”

  My mouth twitched. I couldn’t say it back, and he didn’t seem to notice.

  Scrubbing my body and hair, I tried to keep my mind from wandering, from seeing faces, from hearing screams…from him.

  Dressing in the coziest thing I could find, needing comfort, I crawled under the fluffy duvet and willingly let sleep claim me and bury me under the pain.

  I stood in a room, people milling around me, but they were a blur, no distinct faces. All unaware of what was coming, but I knew.

  I had to warn them.

  Save them.

  I couldn’t move.

  Turning my head, Lennox looked over at me, my voice stuck in my throat, my tongue knotting. No matter how much I tried, my mouth wouldn’t work, tripling the horror gurgling in my chest. The desperation to protect him forced tears from my eyes, but the words would not come.

  Panic.

  Terror.

  The more I tried to scream, move, the more tentacles wrapped around me, holding me down. It was coming; I could feel it.

  BOOM!

  The bomb tore through the group.

  Lennox! I shrieked his name as guttural screams filled my ears, shredding at my soul. I could hear each death, feel it in my soul, but could do nothing but watch.

  Blood, guts, mangled faces, bodies torn in half. Piles of them surrounded me. They reached for me, clawing and crying for me to help them, their expressions wondering why I lived, and they had died.

  Lennox!

  Where was he? I had lost him, making me more frantic and terrified, searching everywhere, crawling over bodies to find him.

  Lennox!

  “Spencer!” My name echoed over and over as bloody hands grasped for me. Sobbing, I tried to scramble away, but more and more bodies surrounded me, grabbing for me. I closed my eyes, my scream shredding my throat.

  Stop! Leave me alone! Don’t touch me! Lennox!

  “Spencer? Spencer, wake up! Help! Someone help!” A hand touched me, wrapping around my arms, shaking me.

  “Get off. Get away. Lennox! Lennox!” I batted at them, whimpering. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Bloody hell!” A deep voice cut through the screams, feeling like a light in the darkness, and I opened my eyes to a dark room. “Back off, Theo. Don’t touch her. She’s experiencing a night terror.” His voice went low and soothing. My lids blinked, the bloody bodies around me melting into darkness until there was nothing but him. Deep blue-hazel eyes peered into mine, and his large form squatted in front of me, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. “Spencer, it’s okay. You are all right. Safe.”

  Lennox…he was okay. Alive.

  Instantly the panic and terror ebbed, like he had the power to switch it off with a word. My body sagged, and a whimper of relief vibrated through me. Sweat dripped down my temple, my heart thumping wildly. Everything running through my mind felt scrambled and slow, sludging along, trying to understand what was happening. The only thing I understood was him—a tether pulling me back from nothing.

  “Lennox,” I whimpered, my hand reached out touching his face, needing to know he was real.

  “I’m here.” He spoke just for me, his fingers tugging my hand away from his cheek, squeezing it. “You are safe.”

  I ached for him to wrap his arms around me, stop my body from trembling, from floating away into nothing.

  “What happened?” He let go of my hand, the sensation fluttering terror in my chest. He continued to watch me, but the question was directed behind him, taking my attention to the other figure standing in a pair of pajama bottoms.

  Theo...

  “Everything was fine, we were sleeping. But when I turned over and knocked my mobile off the table, she freaked out. Started screaming, hitting me, and cowered in the corner.” He ran his hand through his hair, peering off to the side, his tone going low. Cross. “And calling for you.”

  “It was the noise of the cell hitting the floor. In her head, it was an explosion.” Lennox’s hand lifted to touch my face, but he dropped it, looking away from me. “Don’t ever try and wake someone in a night terror. Especially one brought on by PTSD.” Lennox scrubbed his face, taking a deep breath. He spoke with understanding and knowledge.

  “Yeah, well, when your girlfriend is screaming like she’s being murdered and calling for another man…” Theo spat out, rolled his shoulders, and paced behind Lennox.

  “Fuck’s sake, mate. She recently went through an unbelievably traumatic experience…and I was with her, so of course she was calling for me,” Lennox shot over his shoulder at Theo. “She was reliving it. Give her a break.” Lennox shook his head, turning back to me. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” My voice croaked, my pulse still fluttering with adrenaline, the experience still scraping over my skin, knowing it wasn’t just a nightmare. It really happened. Those people were actually dead. “I’m the one still alive.”

  His brow furrowed at my statement, but his head bobbed as if he understood.

  “Yeah, it’s going to take a while to work through that. Did the doctor set you up with someone to talk to?”

  “They tried. I told them I was fine.”

  “No one would be fine after that. Don’t try to be tough. Not with something like this.”

  “Are you seeing someone?”

  “I’ve been seeing someone since I returned the first time.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can give you her name—”

  “I’ll find her someone here. No one outside RH needs to be involved.” Theo came around to my side, squatting down with a territorial puff to his chest, his gaze leveled on Lennox. Possessive. Challenging. “I can take care of it.”

  “Of course.” Lennox stood up
, backing away, a nerve in his cheek flinching. “I will say goodnight then. Highness. My lady.” He bowed his head, twisting away. I watched him leave the room, feeling gutted, scared, and sinking.

  My anchor leaving me adrift.

  “Spencer?” Theo’s hands cupped my face, bringing my focus back to him, his body hovering over me.

  Suffocating.

  I felt trapped. Like I couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m fine.” I pushed up. Fatigue and pain coated my bones, drooping my frame.

  “You scared me.” He followed me, nipping at my heels.

  “I’m sorry.” I sat on the bed, my hands gripping the comforter, my body trembling.

  “I will set up a therapist tomorrow.” He cupped my face again. “Anything you need. The best of the best.”

  I need space. Air.

  “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I tugged his fingers away, my lungs quivering with anxiety. There would be a lot to discuss tomorrow. “I just want to sleep.”

  “Sure.” Theo nodded, moving to go around to the other side of the bed.

  “Alone.” It came out before I even realized what I said.

  “What?” His brows scrunched together.

  “I’m sorry. I simply feel…” I stared down at my toenails on the rug. Blood red against the cream. “I need to be alone. Is that okay?”

  His temper flashed over his face, looking so much like his father, his expression scowling. “Why?”

  “Theo…” Tears batted at the back of my lids, closing my throat, a panic attack crawling up my spine. “I just need a little while to myself tonight. Can’t you understand that?”

  “And I just wanted to hold my girlfriend… like most girls would want. Can’t you understand that? I almost lost you. And I wake up to you freaking out and calling for another man. So, I’m sorry if I’m being the arsehole…that I’m such a wanker for wanting to hold you and be the one you call for.”

  I stared at him, not knowing how to respond.

  He shook his head, heading for the door. “Goodnight, Spencer.” He slammed the door, rushing liquid to my eyes.

  A sob shuddered in my chest, feeling even worse than before. Guilty. Because he was right, most girls would want their boyfriends lying by their side.

  My body shook, the trauma of the last day heaving bile like a tornado in my stomach. I curled on my side, only wanting to sleep, to ease the memories and grief.

  Drifting for a moment, shrill screams from my nightmare bolted my lids back open, terror racing up my vertebrae, chilling my skin with the echo of their death in my head.

  I didn’t think. Didn’t care if it was wrong or right. I needed the one person who understood. Who experienced it with me.

  It was survival. Desperate and primal. The bomb inside me was ticking, about to explode into a million pieces, and all I knew was he would keep me together when it did.

  Rolling out of bed, my bare feet padded out of my room and across the hall.

  What if Hazel was with him? What if he turned me away? The thought hit me with a panicked assault as I opened his door, stepping into the shadowy room.

  My shoulders relaxed seeing his body rolled out across his bed. Alone.

  He sat up the moment I stepped in, his guard up, ready to act. Respond to a threat.

  “Spencer?” Confused, his husky voice lapped at my skin, his hand rubbing at his bare chest. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

  I dragged myself to his bed, my face twisted with grief, words lost in my throat.

  His head tilted, his gaze going to me, plucking the questions and answers from my expression. Without a word, he tugged the blankets down. I crawled in next to him, my back facing him, curling on my side as he tucked me into him. His arm wrapped around my waist, engulfing me in his heat and protection. Where Theo made me feel smothered, Lennox made me feel safe, like I could breathe, and he was ready to fight the horror waiting at the edges to attack the moment I closed my eyes.

  He held me as tears fell, the bloody faces and desperate cries from my dream leaked out. When they slowed, and my bones no longer quaked with fear and trauma, I finally spoke.

  “I keep hearing their screams…seeing faces…” I choked. “I try to save them, but I can’t move. Even dead, they keep coming at me, clawing at me, wondering why I lived, why I didn’t save them.”

  “Survivor’s guilt,” he muttered. “I know it well.”

  “Do the screams go away?”

  He was quiet, telling me my answer.

  “You learn how to deal with it over time. I’ve realized living in guilt is no better than a cage and is an insult to the lives lost. Selfish because you make it about you, instead of living the life they didn’t get to.”

  Nodding, I twined my fingers through his. Gentle on my wounds, he pressed me firmer into him like I was his anchor as much as he was mine, making me highly aware of his barely clothed ripped physique curving into mine. His erection pushed against my arse, our skin and heat skimming down our forms, enflaming every nerve.

  Coming here hadn’t been about sex, though I couldn’t deny my body wanted it. After seeing so much death, it wanted to lose itself in bliss, the highest feeling of being utterly alive.

  With him.

  The truth about my feelings only twisted deeper into my chest with certainty. The sensation of Lennox against my body, the fire that had been building up was ready to burst from me like a backdraft. It had been forming for a long time, growing the more I ignored it.

  Another awareness hit me, freezing me in place. Until now, I had never felt like this before.

  Addicted. Obsessed.

  Desire driving me past reason and what was appropriate or honorable.

  With Theo, everything was sweet and precise. I felt adoration and friendship, but he didn’t consume my thoughts, get my blood boiling in either anger or passion. I never craved Theo like this.

  Emotion built in my throat, overwhelming and gutting, knowing the consequences of admitting this. I wasn’t someone who could live with a lie. Theo deserved better than that.

  As if he could sense my thoughts, he whispered against my neck. “It’s all right. Just sleep. I’m here. You’re safe.”

  Exhaling, I curled farther into him, gobbling up the feel of him, the tension in my chest unwinding as I let go. I felt him relax into me after a few moments, calming my heartbeat, shielding me from the memories.

  My lids closed, and I gave in to the exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep.

  I was thrust from sleep to awareness, my body hot and tight, my breathing irregular. Not from fear, but desire. It took me a moment to understand what was happening and where I was.

  Lennox’s room.

  His physique, pinned against mine, blasted with heat. One hand was up my tank, cupping my breast, the other slipped into my shorts, his fingers gliding over me. Even in sleep, I had arched into him, demanding more.

  Oh god.

  Every nerve lit up, the urge to open my hips to pursue what my body wanted more than anything locked me in place.

  He slipped in deeper, forcing a moan to pour from my lips, my hips slowly rocking against him.

  I could tell the moment he fully woke up, his chest clinching in with a hiss as he stilled, though neither of us pulled away. No doubt he could tell how wet I was, my nerves craving him so badly they trembled under my skin.

  “Spencer,” he mumbled in my ear with shock, but I could hear the inquiry in it. The question we both knew the answer to, but neither wanted to say it out loud.

  His fingers pulled from me, backing away. The loss of his touch had me reacting, my hand wrapped around his, drawing it back to me. He sucked in as I flattened it back against my sternum under my tank. He hesitated for a moment before his thumb swept the spot between my breasts, then curving around my nipple, igniting my veins like a match.

  As if I took a dozen ecstasy tablets, my head swirled with desire, shoving out logic as my arse curved into him. A barely audible moan huffed from h
is throat, his body automatically moving against mine, scorching me with need. He inhaled through his nose, gliding his hand from my sternum to my neck, his finger pressing into my throat, his hips rolling into me, dragging himself over me.

  A gasp opened my mouth. “Lennox.”

  He froze.

  “Bloody hell.” His lips brushed against my ear. “Fuck.” His tone was defeated and pained.

  My lids squeezed together painfully. “I know.”

  “Jesus. You don’t know how bad I want to slip those tiny shorts down and bury myself in you.”

  My breath came out spotty, need claiming me.

  “We can’t,” he growled.

  “I know.”

  “Theo.”

  “I know.” I glanced over my shoulder; shame strangled my heart.

  He watched me, sorrow and frustration working over his face. He laid back on the pillow. “It’s not only him…there’s something else—” He stopped talking, staring up at the ceiling.

  “What?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Was he talking about Hazel? Were they more serious than I thought?

  “Do you want me to go?” My heart sped up with the thought of being alone. Without him, I felt the dead would come to haunt me, try to drag me into hell.

  “No.” He reached back for me, wrapping his arms around me, drawing me back into his body, sighing heavily. “Stay. Sleep.”

  Tucking into the pillow, I relaxed my body into his, latching onto the bubble where this wasn’t wrong or right. No outside world. Just us. This moment of reprieve before tomorrow.

  Before the rest of my world blew up.

  Chapter 4

  My hand shook as I poured coffee into my cup and popped a few painkillers, nausea swimming in my stomach. Every bone ached; every patch of skin was burned, bruised, or cut. The loose baggy clothes I was in still hurt when they brushed over it. My forehead wound smarted under the butterfly bandage keeping my skin pinned together. All I wanted to do was go back upstairs and crawl back into bed.