Royally Arranged (Bad Boy Royals Book 3)

by Nora Flite

  Lifting my hands, I gazed at my fingers as I spread them. It was hard to imagine the sky was somewhere through that thick ceiling. That a place so magical still existed. A sky full of stars that I’d gazed upon with Nova in my arms. I hummed softly, and my fingers moved, playing an invisible piano. In my head I heard the song clearly; it was the same one Nova had encouraged me to perform at the coronation. Her belief in my ability had driven me to do something I never would have. To a passion I’d long abandoned.

  Larchmont’s last words haunted me mercilessly: Nova was always one of us.

  I hadn’t believed him. But the longer I lay here, throbbing in pain, my hurt growing beyond my earthly bruises until it coiled in my soul, the more I began to wonder. To think that everything between Nova and me had been fake . . . it was too much.

  But was it worse if it had been real?

  I was going to be stripped of my crown. The Valentines didn’t need me. They had what they’d been after—what I’d promised Costello I was smart enough to prevent: a growing baby.

  My baby.

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Squeezing my eyes shut, I clenched my hands and dropped them to my sides. Ten years in prison? All that time without being with the woman I loved. A decade where I wouldn’t get to know my own child. There was some irony in ending up a worse father than my own, even before I’d gotten to try my hand at it.

  Noise clanked outside my door. Shifting, I looked over at the single foggy panel of glass. A figure was there—another guard? The door burst open, shining light into the room. It lit her up from behind, her hair a crimson halo. My angel had come for me.

  “I’m so sorry!” Nova cried, dropping to her knees beside my bed. Her hands reached for my shoulders, cradled my bruised and swollen jaw. “Oh, are you all right? You look awful.”

  Gently, like she’d turn into dust if I pressed too hard, I touched her cheek. “I knew Larch got some solid hits in, but I didn’t think he gave me a concussion. Am I hallucinating, or are you really here?”

  “Of course I’m here!” Nova grasped my wrist, kissing my palm. “I didn’t know they did this, Thorne. When I got your messages, I wanted to respond, but I couldn’t.”

  I stiffened, midway to pulling her in for a taste of her lips. “You . . . got my messages? When?”

  “Yesterday. As you sent them.” She studied my injuries, frowning in sympathy. I must have looked like death warmed over. I sure felt like it.

  “You mean to tell me you saw my texts asking if you were okay, and you just didn’t answer me?” That cut me to my core. Nova looked into my eyes, sensing my growing despair. “I came down here, got ambushed by your brothers, because I thought something had happened to you.”

  She withdrew, covering her mouth. “Oh no. Thorne, I—I was in the dark about their plan! I swear it!”

  Nova was always one of us. He’d said it. He’d warned me. Yet she denied being involved. Who was lying? Why come down here to get me now? My skull was ready to split from my confusion.

  “You said you couldn’t respond, what does that mean?” I asked, feeling like I was having the shit kicked out of me all over again.

  Drawing herself up, Nova stood a foot away. “I wasn’t allowed. My mother—”

  “Right,” I said, cutting her off. “I forgot. You do anything she tells you, huh?” Of course she does, I thought bitterly. She was always working with her family. She was always on their side.

  She was always my enemy, and I was too blind to realize it.

  I’d been so sure I was nothing like my brothers. No woman, no matter how beautiful or kind or compassionate or everything that Nova is, could make me so naive that I’d ignore every warning sign. But I had. I’d fallen for every trick in the book, and some I hadn’t known existed.

  I turned my back on her, facing the cell wall. A malaise unlike any other was choking away the energy in me. I’d felt so relieved to see her, but now I was swimming in despair.

  “Please,” she said, the word squeezing from between her teeth. She was barely holding herself together. “I’m so sorry, but please, let me help you.”

  “You’ve helped me plenty,” I said sadly, pressing my hand to my eyelids. “Even if you could take back everything about me breaking the law, keep me out of jail . . . it’s not enough. Don’t you get it?” I couldn’t look at her. I wanted to, but my body wouldn’t let me. “Your brothers did their best to hurt me. They didn’t realize the damage beneath my skin was worse than anything they could inflict.”

  The worst part was knowing I had some power here. An awful, terrible ability to bring her down with me. I knew it was her in the photo; so did she. If I could prove it, she’d suffer the same sentence as me, and then . . . and then . . .

  And then nothing.

  Because even though she’d burned my world to ashes, crushed my heart, she was still curled so firmly around my soul that I’d never hurt her.

  “I get that you’re angry. You probably even hate me.” Her voice cracked on that last part, but she pressed forward. “I don’t blame you. You’re right about everything, I’m pathetic for listening to my mother. I should have told you I was okay . . . If I had, you wouldn’t be down here.”

  The pain in her voice pulled at my protective side. But the way she’d ignored me yesterday had left me feeling so betrayed . . . so unimportant. It was the exact way my father had made me feel while I was growing up.

  Nova breathed in through her nose. It was a desperate breath that went on for some time. I wondered if she’d ever release it. I wondered if she even could. “It’s okay if you think I’m awful. I think I am, too. Please let me fix this. Let me try to make you understand why this all happened, and why . . . why I’m the way I am.”

  The part of her still living in my chest curled ever tighter. It choked some of my resentment away, encouraging me to listen to her confession. Turning on the bed, I focused on the bottomless sorrow in her beautiful face. It was a challenge not to tell her everything was fine. To please not cry, especially not because of me.

  But I couldn’t.

  Not until I heard what she had to say.

  “Around six months ago . . . about a week after meeting you . . . I got very ill.”

  “The kidney failure,” I whispered, remembering how she’d brushed it off on our wedding night.

  She nodded frantically. Tears streamed down her cheeks in infinite lines. “I was sick, and in so much damn pain. I kept it to myself because I never told anyone what was going on in my life. Every time I’d tried before, they never cared. Not really.”

  Wringing her hands, she shuddered. “I went downhill quickly. I remember being alone in my bed, and my sister came in to stand over me. I couldn’t focus on her face. The world was just wobbly, all curves, no edges. She called me pathetic.” Nova looked at me straight on. “She was right. My heat was rubbed out of me, just stripped until I was cold and going blind. I remember lying there, looking at the ceiling and thinking . . . This is what I get. I wished for more, for better, and this is the result of my selfishness. Thorne, six months ago, my kidneys didn’t just fail.”

  She kept staring at me. A wild plea to get her meaning without her having to say it. I felt as frail as she must have months ago, lying in her bed.

  Her lips parted ever so slightly. “I died.”

  Though she was standing right in front of me, I had an irresistible urge to grab her up and make certain she was still there. Stumbling forward, forgetting my pride, my anger, I swept Nova against my chest and squeezed. “You didn’t die,” I growled. “You’re too warm to be a fucking ghost.”

  Her arms didn’t wrap around me. She was stiff as a cord of wood. “The paramedics told me later that my body shut down from the toxins I couldn’t filter. They restarted my heart in the ambulance, kept me alive long enough for the surgery that would be my new beginning.”

  New beginning? I wondered.

  Nova was vibrating so hard I expected her joints to detach. “When I finally woke up, there w
as a hospital ceiling above me. My father was sitting nearby in a chair.” She looked up at me, unflinching, as she relived that day. “He told me Mom had given me a kidney. She’d saved my life, but doing so had ruined hers. She would struggle now, he said. She’d never be whole. Her life would be less vibrant. And it was my fault.”

  Her eyelids pinched together. No matter how I wiped at her cheeks, the tears kept coming. “Nova, that’s not your fault at all.”

  “It is. I wished for something to happen that would make me brave enough to live fearlessly! I got that when I nearly died. Because of her sacrifice, I’m alive. You’re able to do this,” she said, grabbing my wrists, driving my palms into her cheeks harder, “because of her! That day, I promised myself three things: I’d never forget the sacrifice she made for me. I’d make sure my wish wasn’t wasted. And I swore to live my life without fear . . . like you do.”

  Tension dug its claws into my neck. She told me that before. That after meeting me she’d wanted to BE me. I’d thought it was odd. I had no idea how much impact I’d had on her life. Knowing the depth of it all, hearing how she’d suffered . . . I found my heart splitting down the middle.

  “You think I’m fearless?” I growled. There was pressure behind my eyes, building to the point where I expected my forehead to tear apart. “Haven’t you been listening to me? I was terrified something had happened to you! I was so, so afraid, Nova.” I hugged her all over again.

  Nova snaked her arms under mine. The tension she created with her embrace stole some of the pressure from my head. “I wanted to tell you this,” she said, softly enough that I had to strain, “because I hoped you’d forgive me. But that wasn’t the only reason.” Nova curled her hands against her own chest between us. Her lower lids were swollen. “Until you knew what had changed my life . . . I could never tell you what I’ve known for some time. Thorne, I love you. I loved you weeks ago at our fake wedding, when I said ‘I do.’ That moment was real for me.”

  The leftover bitterness that had been clinging to my heart fell away. She loves me. This amazing woman who had been through so much and thought she had to live life at full speed because she owed it to her second chance . . .

  Someone so pure loved me?

  I didn’t deserve this happiness. That didn’t stop me from crushing her in my arms, my forehead resting on hers. The bridge of my nose was damp from her tears—my chin was wet from my own. When was the last time I’d wept?

  “I love you,” I said, each word thick and heavy. “I love you so much, Nova.” I kept saying it, afraid she wouldn’t hear me, that my declaration wouldn’t reach the parts of her that it had to for this to be meaningful. My palm skated over her belly. Both of us went still. “Is it real, are you pregnant?”

  Sniffling, she flashed a helpless smile. “Yes. You’re going to be a dad.” Her eyes traveled the gray room with its stripped bed and blood-spattered floor. “This wasn’t how I hoped to tell you the news.”

  Through my fingertips, I imagined the life growing inside her womb. I’m going to be a father. It’s really happening. My face twisted up, everything in me bunching as I hugged her anew. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” she whispered.

  “Not remembering who you were. I don’t know how it’s possible to forget the face of the woman who’d own my heart someday.” Tilting her chin up, I kissed away the tears at the corners of her eyes. “Maybe I should be locked up, because what crime is worse than that?”

  - CHAPTER THIRTY -

  HAWTHORNE

  Glen was waiting for us just outside my cell. His face was slightly red—I suspected he’d heard what Nova and I had spoken about. But that was all right. The world had seen our fake love; I wouldn’t be ashamed about the real thing.

  “Did you help her break me out?” I asked as we approached.

  “She ran into me on the way here. When she said she was looking for some royal holding cell, I knew exactly the place. Wasn’t much of a breakout, though.”

  The three of us hurried up the stairs. I realized he was right; there was no one guarding this section. “Where did they all run off to?”

  He didn’t look at me, he just hurried faster. “There’s a problem. Every able body is in the middle of handling it.”

  Nova glanced at me, her hand wrapping around mine. “It’s all thanks to Darla. Just . . . look!”

  We’d made it into the west wing of the castle. On my left, through the huge windows that allowed sunlight to stream onto the red rugs, I glimpsed the front gates. There I saw something that blew my mind. A mob had gathered on the front lawn. Media vehicles with satellites served as backdrops for multiple people speaking to camera crews.

  “What the hell?” I asked, running faster down the hall. There was a dull roar now, the cacophony of hundreds of voices all talking at once. Through the opening ahead I saw the main staircases at the entrance. Much of the crowd had poured through the front doors, swamping the foyer. At the base of the stairs on either side of the upper level, the royal guards—as well as some of my men and the Valentines’ men—had blocked off access. Against the banister, staring down at us all, were Kurtis and Valencia. Over their shoulders I saw their other children; those three were huddling by the wall.

  “What is all this?” I asked Glen when we pulled up behind the first row of shouting bodies.

  “Those bastards up there have started quite the riot,” he said, his hand hovering at his hip. I saw his holster and wished for a gun of my own. “Your parents gave up on trying to talk to the guards or the Valentines and went into town to get help from the police. They were sure something had happened to you, your mother insisted you’d never send a photo like that from your own phone.”

  “Photo?” Glen wouldn’t look me in the eye. My stomach ate itself—I knew what the photo was.

  “Yeah,” Nova said. “My sister handed it to the world this morning. Then my father made an official statement that they planned to begin the process of stripping you of the crown for your crime. This is the result.”

  I recognized some of the castle staff among the faces. Everyone was screaming; I caught bits of sentences.

  “Pure bullshit! I never . . .”

  “Why are his parents speaking to the cops? Is the king really missing?”

  “He deserves a fair trial! Don’t judge him guilty before that!”

  “It’s fake! The photo is fake! Give us the king, let him answer himself!”

  Kurtis slapped his hands down on the banister. “None of you have permission to march in here!” Amazingly, his voice carried over the crowd. He scanned everyone—then he saw me. Fury blackened his features. Valencia followed his eyes. Leaning close, she spoke in his ear, though the noise would have made it impossible for anyone to hear.

  I hated how his smile lit up.

  “Hawthorne Fredricson!” he shouted. Every set of eyes, one by one, turned to me where I was standing in the hallway. Glen tensed at my side, as did Nova. “Everyone is here to cry havoc at me and my family. They think I’ve done something wrong by requesting the crown stay with my daughter, with or without your support. These people have grown fond of you quickly. They’re suspicious that what was emailed to them this morning was a lie. But I think, if they knew your true nature, that would change.”

  “Shit,” Glen said under his breath.

  Everyone was silent. Larchmont drew closer to the banister, more eager to see me put on the spot than he was afraid of being injured by the mob.

  “Do you deny you had sex in the royal, sacred cemetery?” Kurtis asked me.

  The crowd gasped collectively. Standing there with their mix of disgust and disappointment raining on me, I found my eyes moving upward. I saw the large painting on the wall. The one of my father and his family.

  I’d rather be an idiot than a fraud. I held my head high. “I don’t deny it.”

  That made him hesitate—he’d expected me to argue. “Well, good,” he said, “because we have proof beyond a photo. The pro
stitute confirmed that you took her to the cemetery, wanting to have sex on the former king’s grave.”

  I grimaced violently. “I didn’t want . . . That’s not . . .” How could I explain? Denying the accusation involved chancing that Nova would get caught. All those faces were shooting disappointment, disbelief, and defeat on me simultaneously.

  “It wasn’t her that was with him!” Nova stepped forward. Her hand was tangled with mine, warmly glued into place. Her eyes fixed firmly, without fear, on her father. “It was me.”

  Her bravery gave me strength. Kurtis had gone white—in contrast, his wife was glowing red. “Nova, stop this. Do you understand what you’re saying?” he sputtered.

  “I do.” She made us face the crowd. Camera flashes popped off like fireworks as we stood there. “Your queen and your king have broken the law. If Thorne doesn’t deserve to sit on the throne, let alone rule this country, neither do I.”

  “Nova!” Valencia hissed.

  “Fine,” Larchmont scoffed, his hands flying over his head dismissively. “I’ll sit on the damn throne if neither of them plan to.”

  “That’s treasonous!” Glen shouted. “Only those from the Fredricson bloodline can wear the crown.”

  Larch stared at the head of the royal guard. The madness in the whites of his eyes made the writhing red veins even bolder. “You think you can tell me what to do? Fuck, I’m so tired of people doing that.” From his lower back he revealed a silvery pistol. The crowd gasped, seeing the gun, starting to panic.

  Glen, however, didn’t look nervous. “Step down, boy.”

  “I’m no boy.” He aimed the weapon upward, and, to my shock, he fired once. The whip-crack of the bullet flying free sent a ripple through the foyer. People shouted, some running away, others ducking down with their hands over their heads.

  On the stairs, the royal guards reached for their own weapons, looking to Glen for guidance. The few men in my family’s pay stared at me. This was pandemonium. I clutched Nova’s wrist, my mind racing as I searched for a plan.