The Lion's Castle (The Lion Princes Book 1)

by Chase, Leslie

  "Is that Roman Alexander?" The voice on the other end of the call trembled, sounding unsure. Was that the woman from the bar? Roman couldn't be certain, he'd hardly heard her speak then and there had been more pressing matters on his mind. And this woman was speaking softly, almost in a whisper, as though worried she might be overheard.

  "Yes," he growled down the line. "Speak."

  "I don't have much time," the woman said. Despite that, she paused, and Roman heard her take a deep breath as though steeling herself to continue. "It's about Anna. She needs your help, Roman, they're going to kill her."

  Roman's blood ran cold and he felt a pain in his chest, as though his heart was trying to escape his ribcage. The world around him faded away until all he was aware of was the voice on the other end of the phone.

  "Why?" he demanded. "She's your sister."

  "My father is going crazy," she said, voice quiet and tense, unhappy. He could hear the stress in her voice, how much it cost her to say this. "He thinks that it's the only way to free her from you. I can't stop him, not on my own. So you have to."

  Roman didn't stop to think. He didn't need to — his mate was in danger, and that was all he needed to know.

  "Where is she?"

  A relieved sigh from the far end of the phone, then she gave an address quickly. "Come to the back, quiet, and knock three times. I'll let you in, and I can keep the guards distracted while you rescue her. Hurry! I don't know how long it'll take him to get up his nerve to do it."

  Before he could ask for more details, she'd hung up. Roman stared at the receiver, swore, and looked up at the man with the equipment. The man shook his head.

  "Sorry, Your Highness. Whoever that was is skilled. They routed the call through a several other countries' networks, and I couldn't follow it in time."

  Roman swore again, louder, and leaped to his feet. With this antique phone system, no wonder, he thought. He'd replaced more modern equipment in third world nations.

  "I need a car," he said.

  "Sir, you can't go!" Sophie looked horrified. "It's sure to be a trap!"

  "Maybe," Roman answered, turning over the call in his head. The woman had sounded sincere, and her concern for Anna felt genuine. More importantly, now that he let himself feel along the bond between him and his mate, he knew that she was in danger. "But that doesn't change anything. Anna needs me, and that's all. I'm going."

  "You won't do her any good if you get yourself killed," Sophie pointed out. He had to admit that was a fair point, but he didn't let it stop him from striding to the door.

  "At least give your guards a little time to get a strike team together," she pleaded. The guards were hurrying after him as she spoke, exchanging glances.

  "No. I'm going in alone," he said decisively. Everyone drew breath to argue, but he kept talking and gave them no chance to interrupt. "If it is a trap, they'll be ready for us, and numbers won't help. If it isn't, if Victoria was telling the truth back there, then all you'll do is tip my hand. That could get Anna killed. If it's a choice between her being in danger or me, I won't risk her. I'm going alone."

  It was a relief, almost, to have things made so clear for him. Whatever else happened, she was his mate, and he couldn't leave her in danger. That simplified all his problems down to one: how to save her without getting himself killed. A difficult task, maybe impossible — but at least it was simple.

  "Sir, with respect," the guard commander started to object. Roman didn't give him a chance to finish his thought.

  "I've made my decision. No arguments," he snarled. No one else is dying for this, it's my responsibility. "I am your prince, you will do as you are told!"

  His lion rose to the surface as he snapped the order and his words seemed to punch straight past the conscious minds of the guards. They stopped in place, snapping off perfect salutes, shock showing in their eyes. For the first time, Roman understood the appeal of being King.

  Roman strode off as fast as he could walk, and they fell in a respectful distance behind him. As he went, he snapped off more orders, but his mind was on more important things. His mate needed him.

  20

  "You can't do this," Anna shouted at the locked door, kicking it futilely. Outside, the guard her father assigned mumbled something she couldn't make out. Even the other revolutionaries were unhappy with what was happening, it seemed. They were happy enough to kill the shifters on whom they blamed everything that was wrong with their lives and their country. Turning on one of their own, though? That was a different story.

  However guilty the man felt, it didn't inspire him to open the door. That left her stuck. The door was heavy enough that Anna knew she had no chance of breaking it down even if it wasn't guarded. Giving it another angry kick, she sat down on the single chair she'd been left and tried to think, to plan.

  What's the point? They aren't going to let me leave the room until it's too late to do anything, one way or another. Anna took a deep breath and pushed that thought aside. She wasn't going to give up that easily. She'd done enough giving up for one day.

  Forcing herself to relax, she looked around the room. It was a storage area in the basement of the house the rebels were using for their base, and it wasn't a very good cell. Oh, there wasn't any way out, of course — no window, and the door locked from the outside — but they hadn't taken the time to empty it, and that meant that there were shelves full of supplies. There must be something here I can use, she thought, searching. If this was a TV show, I'd be able to make some kind of tool, a bomb, a weapon.

  Part of her was certain that she didn't need to - even after all that had happened, she felt confident that Roman would come to save her. That he would brave any threat to rescue her. But that was part of the problem. Even if it was true, he'd be walking into a building full of men who wanted to kill him, and Anna couldn't bear the thought that she'd be responsible for his death. No, she had to deal with her problems herself. Somehow.

  But there was nothing here. No weapons, of course, her father wouldn't have been stupid enough to lock her up with a gun. But she'd hoped for something, anything, she could use instead. The cans of food stacked on the shelves might work if she had a way to swing them at her enemies, but that was starting to sound ridiculous even to her.

  Hearing footsteps outside her makeshift cell, she hurried back to her chair. No sense in letting whoever was coming know that she hadn't given up hope of escape.

  A key turned in the lock, and she looked up to see the man who'd been with her father step inside. He smiled at her, a smug, self-satisfied grin, and looked her up and down carefully. Anna shuddered at the feel of his gaze and stayed silent.

  "Fate is good to Prince Roman, I see. You are certainly a catch as a mate," he said eventually. His cool, languid voice was mocking. "I'd congratulate him if it wasn't for the fact that he won't live to see the ceremony completed."

  "You don't have to gloat," she said, glaring back at him. "Who are you, anyway?"

  "You can call me Augustus, my dear," he said, leaning against the wall and smiling. For a moment, Anna considered rushing him. Or trying to, anyway. For all that he was older, he looked fit and strong, and she didn't think his confidence was entirely because he discounted her as a threat. Something told her that this was a man who knew his way around a fight, despite his carefully cultivated manners and the gray in his hair.

  "That's not much of an answer," she spat back. "What are you doing with my father, and why are you here? You're nothing like most of the people who join us."

  They were usually poor, the people who felt like they had nothing to lose from a revolution. Or the exiles who had moved away, made a life for themselves elsewhere, and wanted to change their homeland. This man, though, looked as though he was as rich as anyone could be, short of the King himself. And he clearly had no trouble being in the country.

  "Your father and I go way back, dear. He owes his most famous successes to me, and I am looking forward to handing him another one. Or three
, actually, whenever Princes Gabriel and Mattias join their brother."

  Anna paled at the thought of that. That the group planned to kill all three princes wasn't news to her, of course. There wasn't any point in doing this part-way, after all. But that comment made her think that Roman's accusation might have been right, and her father had been involved in the death of the princes' parents. A few days ago she might have been proud of that. Now she felt sick at the thought, and what it would mean for Roman.

  There's no point in thinking about it, she told herself, trying to focus on the present. That's something to worry about if I ever see him again. Now it's time to concentrate on making that possible — I have to stay alive and escape!

  The man leaned in close, too close, making Anna shrink back in her chair. "Enough about me, though. I didn't come here to tell you about my ascent, no, I came here with questions of my own. Did your prince take you to see the Well of Fate, my dear?"

  Anna thought about lying to him, but she didn't know what lies to tell, what he wanted to hear. And there was a keen gleam of intelligence in Augustus's eyes; he might be evil, but he didn't look like he'd be easy to fool.

  "Don't make me force you to talk, Anna," Augustus said. "I'd rather not put your father through any more distress than I have to."

  That didn't sound entirely honest. He wasn't exactly lying, Anna thought, but she got the distinct impression that he wouldn't care much if he broke her father's heart. Well, we've got that in common at least.

  "Yes, he did," she said after a brief pause. "Why?"

  "Did you perform the ritual? Did he do anything there?" He stared at her intently, and she shook her head.

  Augustus relaxed a little, leaning back. "So he doesn't yet know if fate has picked him to be king. Lucky for him, I suppose — he can go to his grave thinking it was him. The disappointment of knowing you won't get your father's throne can be enough to crush a man."

  Anna frowned, and was on the verge of telling him that Roman had no interest in being crowned King of anywhere. At the last second, she held her tongue. Something in Augustus's eyes told her that he wouldn't believe anyone could turn down that power, and she didn't want to provoke him if she didn't have to.

  Who is he, and why does he care so much about that? A sudden thought struck her, and she looked away from him to keep it from being plain on her face. No, it can't be!

  Now that she had the thought, she knew where she recognized him from. He was older, now, and dressed differently. The mad glint in his eyes was new. Despite all that, she could see the young man he'd once been, the man she'd seen in the portrait of Roman's father and his uncle.

  The man before her, the architect of her father's rebellion against the throne, was none other than Augustus Alexander, Roman's uncle. The prince whose body had never been found after the attack. It felt as though her whole world was collapsing in on itself as she looked into his eyes, so familiar and yet so strange.

  * * *

  The SUV roared through the streets of the capital, and Roman didn't care who he disturbed. He could only just control himself enough to keep from roaring with it. The address he was in the old town, the winding narrow roads of the city which hadn't changed in centuries, and there were times that he nearly lost himself in the maze of streets.

  Every time, he felt a pull towards his mate that kept him on the right track, drawing him ever closer to his mate. Anna, and the people holding her.

  I can't just barge in like this, he told himself firmly as he stopped the car with a screech of brakes. I need to be calm. This won't save her.

  His lion reluctantly agreed, pulling back and letting him take control of himself. A couple of deep breaths and he was ready, or as ready as he'd ever be.

  Stepping out of the car, he crossed the last of the distance on foot, watching carefully for an ambush. The enemy might have sentries watching the area, but he knew that they wouldn't want to be too obvious. On his own, he stood a good chance of slipping past them. Certainly no one seemed to be paying him too much attention as he slipped into the alleyway that ran behind the address Victoria gave him.

  It would have been a different story with a security detail following him, he knew. Then he'd have had no chance of getting this far unnoticed, and that would be the end of his rescue attempt.

  He found the old townhouse. It looked like it would have once been a rich man's home, but the neighborhood had gone downhill and the building had followed. Now it barely looked habitable, with several of the windows boarded up. A perfect place to hide out.

  Checking carefully for watchers, he again saw none. Is that suspicious, or are they careless, he wondered. Or maybe they are just that good, and I've been seen already? There was no way to tell, so he ignored that concern and pressed on. Reaching the back door, he gave it a quiet knock. The door opened at once, and Victoria looked up at him. Her eyes widened slightly and he could see the fear she hid, but she was alone.

  "I wasn't sure you'd come," she said. Roman fixed her with a glare.

  "Anna's in danger," he said. It was all the reason he needed, and after a moment she nodded her understanding. He saw her peek past him, checking that he was alone in the alley, before she opened the door and ushered him inside.

  "How many people are here?" Roman asked as she closed the door quietly behind him.

  "I'm not sure," Victoria admitted. "People have been coming and going all day. At least half a dozen, maybe more. Most of them are upstairs."

  Not as many as I'd feared. I guess I've put a dent in their numbers. That thought made him bare his teeth in a smile. Good. Still, it's more than I want to fight my way through when Anna's life is on the line. I'd better stick with the stealthy option. Nodding to Victoria, he followed her deeper into the building, advancing slowly and quietly. He couldn't afford any mistakes now.

  She walked with well-practiced secrecy, silent on the wooden floors, and led him to a heavy, soundproofed door.

  "Down the stairs before someone sees us," she whispered, opening it to reveal a rickety wooden stairwell descending to the basement. He moved with swift, silent grace, the calm of combat on him now. There wasn't any time for doubts as he descended the stairs, Victoria close behind him.

  At the bottom, light escaped under a door. Roman could make out a voice, a radio he thought. It sounded like a sports broadcast. That probably means a guard’s listening to it, he thought, listening closer. Behind it he could hear something else, another voice perhaps, but muffled. No way to avoid being seen now, he thought, grateful for the heavy door at the top of the stairs. If the rebels had soundproofed the basement, at least he wouldn't attract the attention of the men upstairs when he abandoned subtlety.

  Throwing his full weight against the door, he smashed through. Wood splintered as the lock tore out of the door frame, and he burst into a large basement room with several other doors leading off it. Sitting beside one of them, listening to the radio, was a guard who barely had time to gawp at Roman's sudden appearance before Roman was on him. One solid punch put the man out cold, and Roman swung open the door he'd been guarding.

  On the far side was a sight to freeze him in place. He'd found Anna, but she was in the grip of a tall man, broad-shouldered and elegantly dressed, out of place amongst the rebels. Roman might have mistaken him for another prisoner, except for the way he was holding Anna. One of his hands covered her mouth and kept her silent, the other gripped her arms behind her.

  Behind him, a gun's safety clicked off.

  "Don't move, Roman," Victoria said, her voice cold and controlled. "It's over."

  Roman bared his teeth in a snarl, slowly holding his hands out to his sides.

  "I thought you valued your sister more than this," he said.

  "One of you has to die to break the bond," Victoria's cool tone wavered just a little, revealing the stress she was feeling. "I'd much rather it was you than Anna."

  "How touching," the man holding Anna said, smiling. His manner was as out of place as his a
ppearance, aristocratic and amused. "Roman, you've given us quite a chase. I suppose I'm glad, in a way, that we end this face to face. It would have been so impersonal if we hadn't met again."

  Again? Do I know him? Roman frowned. "I don't care who the hell you are, but you're going to let Anna go right now or you'll regret it. I promise."

  The man laughed as though he'd told an outrageous joke. "Dear me, boy, don't you remember your dear old uncle Augustus?"

  Roman blinked, and heard a gasp from behind him. The older man's smile widened, shark-like, and he shook his head.

  "Don't look so shocked, boy," he said in a gloating tone. "Really. Is this how poorly you've been raised? I'm putting the country out of its misery by removing your line from the throne."

  Another of the doors opened and a man emerged. His pistol aimed at Roman he glared, angry determination on his face. Roman recognized Anna's father instantly despite never having seen him before; the family resemblance was unmistakable.

  "Well done, Victoria," Mr. Hall said, voice rough. If hate could kill, Roman would have burst into flames under his stare. As it was, he matched the gaze and held it until Mr. Hall looked away.

  "So the family's all here," Roman ground out, turning back to Augustus. "Let Anna go, Augustus. You're done with her. It's me you want."

  Augustus smirked, making a show of thinking it over before shoving Anna at the chair beside the door. "I suppose you're right about that."

  Anna collapsed into the chair, looking stricken. She started to rise, but her father stepped forward, barring her way.

  "You shouldn't have come, Roman," she sobbed, her voice full of pain and fear. Fear for him. Roman felt a stab of pain at that, and an urge to tear apart the people that scared her.

  "How could I not?" He shook his head. "Whatever else might stop us being together, I still love you. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

  She looked up, meeting his eyes, and he saw the love he felt for her mirrored there. He felt a strange calm settle over him and smiled sadly. At least I got to tell her, he thought. Whatever happens now, that's something to treasure.