The Legend of the Cursed Princess (The Royal Harem Series Book 3)

by A. K. Koonce

  Magic.

  The shivering subsides. It only takes a few minutes before I’m sweating from their body heat. In a weird way, I never want to leave from this spot. Nestled comfortably between them all.

  A peace drifts through me, calming me deep within my soul.

  “Well, this is fucking uncomfortable,” Ledian says in a smooth voice. I hear his boots scuff against the floor as he shifts on his feet.

  My steady hands wrap around myself as I glance from one person to the next. I almost died. Surrounded by the people I care the most about.

  I might … love them even.

  Cason stands, his pants hanging low on his hips, his shirt litters the floor. The bed was perfectly made this morning. The covers and sheets are now twisted and without hesitation, Cason jerks the heavy blanket from the bed. The softness of it surrounds me as he wraps it around my shoulders. Cohen pulls at the sheet until it falls and he covers himself up as well.

  He looks defeated. They all do.

  “You okay?” Ledian asks with worry tinging his tone.

  I want to nod. But I honestly have no idea.

  The deepest part of the ocean was just shown to me. More information has been piled on to my already stress-filled life.

  Dread sinks low in my stomach.

  Cohen just found out his father’s dead. His sister’s being held hostage by the sea witch. I’m not the true heir to my kingdom. And I have to find the courage to trust the witch’s twisting words. I have to believe that if I sink that dagger into their hearts, it won’t be the kiss of death but the one true thing that sets them free.

  Chapter Eight

  Alone at Last

  Cason

  When she sleeps, a look of terror still fills her beautiful face. It’s as if the insane life she’s living crowds even her dreams. A crease lines her brows, her eyelids flinching back from her own thoughts.

  Instinctively, I pull her against my chest, wrapping her in my arms and resting my chin against her soft dark hair.

  The others stand at the foot of the bed discussing our shitty options—if you can call what the sea witch is forcing us into an option.

  A stern knock raps across the door. My heart lurches and I fling away from her, falling to the floor on the other side of the bed. I land hard, my back arching in pain.

  The other three duck, hovering close together as someone cracks the door open. The hinges creek unsteadily and I wonder if they notice the crack now lining the wood from Cohen’s forceful entrance.

  “Wren?” The smooth sound of her father’s voice has my heart drilling through my chest.

  Shit, maybe the sea won’t claim my life. If he finds four men hiding in her room, I’ll die at the hands of this beautiful woman’s father.

  “She’s lost too much weight,” he whispers. “She looked so vacant at the wedding. Empty. I hate that I did that to her.” The helpless sound of his voice isn’t filled with the regal authority it normally has.

  It’s filled with worry and regret.

  “She’s exhausted from the wedding, sweetheart,” her mother tells him. “I told you, you shouldn’t push her so hard.”

  “I won’t. Not anymore,” he whispers so quietly I barely hear him. It’s the sound of pure guilt.

  The door clicks closed and a terrified breath leaves my lungs.

  Pushing off from the floor, I sit up with a small wince. My attention lands on a smiling Cormac. Only he would find this situation comical.

  “We’ve got to find a better place to stay. We’ll be hung if we keep loitering around her bedchambers,” Cohen tells us.

  Ledian nods adamantly. In a way, Cohen and Ledian seem to be alike; responsible but in very different manners.

  “On my way here I noticed the outside door to the dungeon has a broken lock.” All eyes are on Ledian as he thinks out loud. “We could take a look. Might be a good spot to lay low while you three,” he eyes us skeptically, “figure out whatever the hell it is you need to do.”

  “The dungeon?” Cormac’s brows raise high and he smirks at the ridiculous idea of it.

  “Yeah, the dungeon. Bet it’s used for storage. Probably tons of tables. We could steal some sheets and set up camp while we figure out the shit show that is your lives.” His eyes narrow on Cormac. They stare hard at one another. The two are just waiting for a fist fight, I can feel it.

  “My father kept all his prisoners down there.” Cormac finally admits, his gaze drifting to the floor.

  “Our father was a madman. Wrenley’s father probably keeps the prisoners detained in the tower like our father should have.” Sadness touches Cohen’s eyes and the look startles me so much I stand and take a few steps closer to him. His emotions seem to be tearing away at him.

  “Let’s take a look and see what’s down there. Cason, stay with Wren in case she wakes up.” Cohen glances down at her. Her lips are parted and gentle breaths stir the locks of hair tumbling into her face.

  I stare at her for so long I don’t realize when they leave. Slipping beneath the smooth blankets, I pull her against my chest once more. She turns, her face burrowing into my side and I wrap my arm around her slight frame. Smooth skin greets my fingertips and my palm drifts up and down her arm.

  For a while, I just watch her. A murmuring cry leaves her lips, accompanied by a terrified flinching of her fluttering eyes and then she’s staring up at me, too.

  Her chest heaves against my side. Faintly our warm breaths kiss. Bright, unfiltered sunlight streams across her porcelain skin. It makes her eyes impossibly brighter, more beautiful somehow.

  “Where did everyone go?” she whispers, her gaze tracing along my features.

  Do I tell her they went to begin living in the dungeon?

  “Ledian saw the lock on the dungeon was broken and they wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

  She nods. Beneath the blankets her hand lightly brushes against mine. Her thoughts seem to be blazing through her eyes a mile a minute. Her lips pull into a tight line and she plays restlessly with my fingers, drifting her fingers through mine and skimming across my knuckles.

  It’s making me crazy. Her naked in this bed is what’s really making me crazy.

  “What you did earlier, when you all seared heat through me, can you use your magic whenever you like? Could you show me?” It’s like she’s plotting. Is she plotting how to use our magic to save us?

  A smile tilts my lips and I lean in closer to her, just wanting to be near her. She’s supposed to save us but all I want is to protect her. She doesn’t need me and I know it, but I want her to. I want her to have someone to lean on.

  She’ll have me as long as she wants me.

  My heart thunders through my chest with realization.

  Because I love her.

  “What do you want to see?” I whisper in an uneven breath, terrified of voicing my real thoughts about her.

  I would do anything right now. It might sound weak, but I just want to make her happy. I want to make her life easier. She deserves that. It’s so pathetic to think the least she deserves is a decent life.

  She deserves a spectacular life.

  Someday we’ll give it to her.

  Her eyes gleam with a sort of wonder as she tries to think about the power that runs through my veins.

  Without even trying, my fingertips ignite against her skin, making her hand glow with a beautiful golden color. Between us, she holds my hand absorbing the tingling feeling that’s shaking through my fingertips.

  It’s just light. I’m not as powerful as Cohen. I never practiced my magic because I just assumed I’d never need it.

  The perfect smile that spreads across her lips makes me wish I would have practiced every fucking day just to do parlor tricks for her at her demand.

  My breath comes quicker as I trail my hand across her flesh. Her eyes flutter closed as I skim the tingling power across her ribcage. I watch her changing emotions strike across her face. The smile falls as her lips part with a shaking bre
ath.

  That one breath urges me on; my fingertips feather lightly over her navel and drift up. Hesitantly I brush the peak of her nipple and a heavy gasp pulls from her lips, making my dick hard just from the sound of it.

  Leaning forward, I let my lips lightly brush against her’s and a spark stings my mouth on contact. Her eyes fling open from the blazing feel of my magic and I hold her gaze until she slams her mouth against mine.

  The flicking of her tongue against mine has a groan humming across my lips in an instant. My palm splays against her lower back, the heat of power still tingles through my hands and I refuse to lose that feeling. I want her to feel everything I have, everything I can give her.

  She rolls, her slim body pressing down on me, her legs straddling mine.

  The confidence she holds wasn’t there the first time we met and all I want to do is devour it now.

  I never know what to say to her. The intelligence she always holds, it scares the hell out of me. But right now, words aren’t needed.

  I kiss her recklessly, our bodies pushing and pulling against one another. I lean up, needing to be closer to her somehow. Her hands thread through my hair as my palm pushes between us until it’s poised against her, cupping her.

  The smooth feel of her jaw meets my lips and I kiss my way down the curve of her neck.

  Steady hands begin unbuttoning my pants as I rub up and down her entrance, pushing tingling magic through my fingertips.

  With a moan, her lips part and she grinds shamelessly against my palm. Then she halts entirely when her gaze drifts between us.

  I’m not Cormac; I can count the number of women I’ve been with without losing track. Every one of them has looked at me the way she is right now, though.

  “Um,” her breaths shake against my lips as she seems to try think clearly, “I don’t think that’s going to fit.”

  I lick my lips, trying to smother out the smile that’s forming.

  Slowly, my mouth moves against hers, drawing her back to me. I stroke faster and deeper within her, sending a tingling feeling right through me and into her until she’s gasping and shaking in my arms. Her release feels reckless and addicting.

  “It will, I promise,” I whisper. I sit up straighter while she straddles me. With her lips parted, my mouth feathers across hers. “Do you trust me?” I ask between slow flicks of my tongue.

  With each second that passes, my heart pounds with fear that she’ll say no.

  A shaking breath is her only reply until she carefully nods. Her eyes are hooded and trusting and it does something to me. Her trust does something unexplainable to me.

  The smooth feel of her chest against mine has me leaning impossibly closer and slowly my lips move against hers. I kiss her like she’s delicate and treasured. I take my time memorizing the way she feels. And despite my throbbing dick, I take my time with us.

  But she doesn’t.

  Her hands hold my shoulders and she raises until her slickness drags up the length of my dick. My shoulders become rigid at the feel of her pussy against me.

  A shaking breath parts our mouths and instinctively I grip her hips. Slowly, she lowers herself against my tip. My tongue swipes across her jaw and down her neck, trying to relax the tension from her body, even as mine demands me to thrust into her. My eyes clench closed as she grinds down my shaft. A controlled but shaking breath is all I can manage as I let her control our bodies. Smooth skin meets my palms. I take my time exploring her body, roaming across each rib before pushing over her nipples.

  I do my best just not to move for a few seconds while she stills against me. Her eyes are tightly closed with a thin line pulling between her brows.

  Licking my lips, my mouth skims across hers once more. Ever so slowly, I grind my hips against hers. A high pitched gasp tumbles from her mouth and I don’t give her time to catch her breath before my tongue is flicking against hers. That trembling breath alone nearly makes me want slam into her hard. With all the control I have, I take my time. Half hooded eyes stare down at me, glistening with want.

  If I only have thirty days here, this is how I want to spend each day; with her body wrapped around mine. Her sexy, intelligent mouth pressed against me.

  Because right now, neither one of us has any problems in our lives. There’s just us. All that matters is the way she’s looking at me right now.

  To my surprise, her hips roll faster against mine and I feel every part of her wrapped around me. Our movements become quicker and I groan when I feel her clench around my cock. Her nails sink into my shoulders and steady, long thrusts fuel my movements. Just as a pulsing throb consumes me, she kisses me hard, her teeth sinking into my lower lip.

  Unsteady breaths are all we have left.

  Even after we’ve both stopped moving, I continue to trail slow kisses from her mouth down her neck and shoulder. My gaze holds onto the euphoric look in her eyes. That look has my nerves spiking all through my body.

  Everything about her surprises the hell out of me.

  I love her. I knew I would. The moment I first saw her, I knew I would.

  Chapter Nine

  Once a Thief, Always a Thief

  Ledian

  As I lead them out of the castle, I can’t help but notice how the two men behind me are dancing with nerves. Their heads cast down while their eyes quickly dart from side to side through the maze-like garden. Do they think guards will just pop out of these bushes? Grabbing them up without a question?

  With my hands tucked into my pockets, I stop, swiveling on my heels. “The best way to not get caught, is to act like you belong.”

  Cohen lifts his head, nodding in agreement. Cormac gives me a roll of his eyes, a sneer pulling at his lips. I could just knock that look right off his face. But I don’t. Instead I head on towards the dungeons like the mature adult I am. Mentally, I pat myself on the back for refraining from kicking his teeth in.

  Behind me, Cormac mumbles “Advice from a dirty thief.”

  “Shut up, Cormac,” Cohen responds in a hushed, neutral tone.

  Of the three, Cohen is probably my favorite. Not that any of them are winning awards where I’m concerned. He’s just logical. A little boring but easy to get along with.

  “And we are here, boys!” I say, flashing my smile. My boot kicks at the door leading to the basements of the castle, sending it open slowly, with an ominous creak.

  “Yeah, still looks like a hell hole.” Cormac frowns.

  Cohen leans forward peering into the dark. “Let’s light up some torches and get to setting up camp!” His eagerness, though, it’s annoying as hell.

  “Good luck with that.” I pat him on the shoulder, turning to walk away.

  “Really, Ledian? You aren’t going to help?” Cormac throws his hands up.

  I bet he’s the youngest. He whines like the baby of the family for sure.

  “Nah, not really a manual labor type of guy. See you around.” Shrugging, I don’t fight the knowing smirk that now graces my lips. Oh, it feels nice to get under his skin.

  Before Cormac can let out some sarcastic remark I’m sure he prepared all night to say, Cohen grips his shoulder and turns him toward the steps.

  “I’ll be back before you know it.” I grin, practically skipping away. I’ve never been in the castle before. Only ever peering through the gates with resentment in passing. What a day for adventure this has turned out to be.

  Within minutes, I’m through the dungeon, the garden and into the side halls once more. A few turns is all it takes for me to enter a new corridor I haven’t explored yet. Even in my street clothes that don’t belong here in such a regal place, my chin is held high. No one needs to know that I don’t belong here. Even though the feeling is eating away at me.

  The soft tap of my worn boots against the stone floor seems to echo in the empty halls. My gaze travels over the walls decorated in large, ornate portraits of the castles occupants.

  My steps slow as I pause in front of a picture of Wren. Younger
, her face more childlike, but the pose is the same stiff posture and ever polite smile.

  I’m thankful that’s not the Wren I know. Running into her at that pub was possibly one of the best things to happen to me. Unlike this picture, Wrenley’s spirit is free. She’s fun and witty. She’s brave and strong. She’s determined and steadfast.

  Thoughts wander to the time I saw her in the pub, how she tried her best to act sober and how badly I wanted to laugh. I remember the feeling of her body on mine as I walked her out. Each fiber of my being danced in excitement. I knew then that I wasn’t gonna let her out of my life that fast.

  Raising my hand, I reach meaning to only touch the cheek of the child in the portrait but I quickly pull it back at the sounds of steps approaching. A man somewhere in his fifties rounds the corner, pausing to look at me. Mimicking Wren’s fake smile, I grin and wave. It’s almost eerie how easy this false happiness comes to me.

  His grey hair is slicked back neatly, his uniform well pressed. This is a man who clearly works for the king.

  “Sir, are you here to assist in removing the personal items of Lord Turningten?” he asks.

  Internally I chuckle. This is too easy.

  “Yes, I apologize, I got lost. Could you please show me the way?” I don’t even recognize my own voice right now. My back straightens as I make my attempt to look a bit more proper.

  “Certainly. Follow me.”

  As he walks past me, I give one last glance at the portrait of the princess. Mentally taking note to come back to this part of the castle. Staying just a foot behind the man, I follow until he stops outside a door where many are already working to pack up the items. With a quick nod towards my guide, I dart into the room, picking up an empty crate on my way.

  Casually, I stroll to a corner no one has started working with yet and begin placing items into the tote. I take a mental image of all the items that could fetch me a good dollar.

  Even though this work is not truly mine to do, I keep packing away until one of the other men holler that they are calling it quits for the night.

  Thank God. I muse, I’ll be back to grab what’s now mine for the taking. I made sure to pack it up nice and neat for myself.