The Wolf Prince: The Cursed Princes, Book One

by Amber Jantine

  To her.

  She shifted slightly so that she was lying more on her side. Luke ran one hand down the side of her body, following the curve of her breast and the dip of her waist. Then he slid his hand around to flatten over her stomach.

  There was nothing to feel, of course. It was far too soon. But he couldn’t help thinking about what could already be happening inside her, about how his seed might already have taken root in her womb.

  Giving them a child. And very possibly a son, the long-awaited heir to his father’s throne.

  He stared down into a beautiful, flushed face. Her eyes were shining and he thought he saw emotion there. Once again, it was too soon to think of anything like that, though he couldn’t help wishing…

  Yet with even all the uncertainty between them, Luke felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a burden he had been carrying since he and his brothers had been cursed.

  For the first time, he felt like he truly had something to look forward to in the future. And he couldn’t wait to see how things with Ella would continue to change and grow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Luke, stop!” Ella squealed with laughter, swatting at his hands as his fingers danced up and down her sides. Tickling her. Tears filled her eyes and she could barely see but somehow, she managed to twist out of his hold and make another run for it.

  In the two weeks that they had been up at the cottage, she had learned both layout of the building and the nearby woods nearly as well as he knew them himself. She could slip and duck into far smaller spaces then he could.

  It was the one thing she had that evened out the odds a little, which were generally in his favor due to his longer legs and greater speed.

  Of course, there was one other thing he could probably take advantage of: his wolf-like senses. Both his hearing and his sense of smell were much stronger than ordinary humans, even when the moon was not full.

  He could track her with both of those things.

  That change in him was just another of the small things he’d begun to confide in her during this time alone.

  The fact that he was growing more open in their relationship, that he was confiding in her more and more, gave her hope.

  Maybe this would truly work after all…

  A twig snapped behind her.

  She glanced back and thought she saw the shadow of her very large husband trying to press himself into much smaller space than he could ever hope to fit into. She bit back a giggle to keep from revealing her position, grabbed her skirt in both hands, and made a run back toward the cottage.

  Big mistake. Luke shouted with laughter. “I see you!”

  The sound of his amusement pleased her and made her stomach do a funny little flip-flop.

  That was another thing that had changed during this time. When she had first encountered him, he’d been so solemn, so full of sorrow. He had barely smiled, much less laughed.

  She liked to think it meant that she was good for him. That they were good for each other.

  Ella managed to slip around and through the back door of the cottage, crossing nearly half of the kitchen before Luke caught up with her. She tried to duck out of his way once more, but she wasn’t fast enough, she was never ever really fast enough, and he snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.

  His fingers were dancing along her ribs again, tickling her. She squealed with helpless laughter, writing and twisting against him, yet never able to break his hold. “No fair!”

  Luke paused. “What do you mean?”

  She was gasping for breath, finding it difficult to get enough air into her lungs to keep from growing dizzy, much less being able to speak. “I-I never should have mentioned tickling. It’s not fair, when you’re not ticklish.”

  “Maybe I am.” Her husband smirked. “And you just haven’t found the right spots yet.”

  She had explored much of his body, knew it nearly as well as her own. He’d never given the slightest hint that he might be ticklish. In any spot. But she did know where he was sensitive.

  She twisted about and ran her fingers down his chest. Not stopping at his stomach, she looked up at him, biting her lip and wondering if she truly dared to go lower.

  The lines of his handsome face were drawn tight and she recognized the look of need and longing in his expression.

  She could do this.

  Ella brought her hand down lower, skimming over the hard bulge hidden behind Luke’s trousers. He visibly shuddered and she forced out a laugh. “Oh, is that the spot?”

  He groaned. “Ella…” His growl was low and full of warning.

  Which she was more than ready to ignore. She knew she had him right where she wanted him.

  She cupped his hard shape, felt it pulsing through the thick fabric. She knew the word for that now, at least, one of the words that might be used to describe that part of him.

  He had called it his cock. Another ordinary word that apparently had another intimate, or rather erotic, meaning.

  She had trouble thinking the word in her head and doubted she would ever be able to say it aloud. Heat rushed into her face, a warmth that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with embarrassment, at just the thought of being so bold with him.

  Despite her husband’s encouragement when they were in bed together, Ella knew she would never be much of a talker.

  Not in that.

  All humor in his expression had been burned away. His blue eyes had grown very dark. “You’re playing with fire again, Ella.”

  “Are you saying I’ll get burned? I think this might be worth the risk.”

  His low chuckle sounded more pained than amused. “Little tease.” He spun her about, so that she was pinned against the low kitchen table. The edge of the wood pressed into her spine as he yanked up her skirt. “Two can play at this teasing game, you know.”

  “I know. Because that’s what you’ve been doing to me.” She gasped as his fingers found her slit.

  “I love how you’re always ready for me.” He let his fingers dance over her flesh in the same motion he’d used over her ribs, but it elicited an entirely different sensation in her now. A shaky breath shuddered past her lips as she pushed her hips forward, seeking more of his touch.

  Luke cupped his free hand around her chin, angling her face so that he could capture her lips. She moaned into his mouth, the pleasure already spiking hot and fast.

  She almost didn’t hear the sound of hooves, rushing in their direction. But then the grew louder. Like rolling thunder.

  Undeniable.

  Luke groaned, sounding like he was in real pain, and pushed away from her. Cursed. “We have company.”

  * * * *

  “Company?”

  Ella sounded as dazed as he felt. Luke stared at his beautiful wife, her lips slightly swollen lips, and nearly forgot everything else. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “There’s nothing else out here in the road doesn’t lead to anywhere that someone would want to travel. They can only be coming here.”

  She blinked several times, as if she were waking from a dream, then tilted her head in the direction of the sound. “That doesn’t sound like a carriage.”

  “No. Someone’s coming on horseback.” It was just a single set of hoofbeats, rather than a pair, coming to an abrupt halt in front of the cottage. The door burst open and Luke instinctively stepped in front of his wife, shielding her with his body.

  The man who had come into the room was not his valet, but it was not a stranger, either. He wore the royal livery and reeked of both fear and agitation. Luke nearly wrinkled his nose at the overly powerful scent.

  The man made a hasty bow, then pulled out a sealed piece of parchment. “Your Highness, I have been asked to bring this right away. I do believe it’s very urgent.”

  Luke started to reach for it, but the man drew back. “I’m sorry, your highness but this for the princess.”

  Ella did not appear at all surprised by
this, her features drawing into an anxious frown as she accepted the letter from the servant. Her fingers were trembling as she broke the seal.

  From what he could see, there were just two lines of script, written in a very messy hand. He couldn’t actually see what was said from this distance, but there was no mistaking the way that all the color drained from her face as she read.

  Her head snapped up and she looked directly at the servant, not at him. “I need to get back into town. Immediately.”

  She would’ve passed by him without a word, except he caught her by her arm, stopping her. “Ella, wait. What’s going on?”

  She glared at him, her expression so fierce that he involuntarily took a hasty step back, though he didn’t release her. “The very thing I feared most. Catherine is dying.”

  “What? How?” Before she could answer, he quickly turned to the servant. “Go outside and wait for a while. The princess and I wish to speak privately.”

  “Once again, it’s all about keeping your secrets,” she said softly. “That’s the only thing you care about, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not true.” Her accusation struck him like a physical blow. “You know I care about you.” That was an understatement, to say the least.

  Except Ella looked like she didn’t believe him in the slightest. “Then you just don’t trust me. You refuse to believe that anything I could’ve told you could come true. Especially with regards to my stepmother.”

  He snatched the letter out of her hand. “This doesn’t say anything like that. You don’t know who is responsible for your stepsister’s illness or if anyone can be blamed at all.”

  “You’re right. It’s your fault as well.”

  “Ella!”

  “I told you she needed to stay at the palace. I told you she was in danger. You refuse to believe me. And even now, you still question what I’m saying. Or do you truly believe that is possible for a perfectly healthy young woman to suddenly develop a fatal illness?”

  Luke felt the blood drain from his face. He had never heard Ella speak to him, or to anyone, like this. Not since the first day of their marriage, when they had gotten into that initial argument. But he had thought they had moved past that. “If you truly believe your stepmother had something to do with her daughter’s illness, then there’s no reason for you to go there. It’s definitely not safe.”

  “I’m going. And don’t you dare try to stop me.”

  “But—”

  “You still don’t understand, do you? You still believe the whole world revolves around you and your concerns. You’re no better than your brother Edward.”

  “What you mean? I never—”

  “You never gave anyone a single thought, outside of how they could serve your purposes, to give you the pleasure and happiness you seek in life. It’s as if other people’s feelings don’t matter.”

  “Of course they matter.”

  But he may as well have not have said anything at all, for Ella ignored him and jerked her arm free of his hold.

  There were tears in her eyes and the sight of her crying hit him like a punch to the gut. “I was beginning to think I was wrong about you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I wanted to believe I was wrong about you. I was even thinking that I might be falling—”

  She stopped and gave a violent shake of her head, then pushed open the door of the cottage. The servant immediately snapped to attention, though his wary gaze bounced from Ella to Luke and back again.

  She cleared her throat. “Can your horse take more than one person?”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  “Then I need you to take me back into town.”

  It was on the tip of Luke’s tongue to tell her that he was going to take the servant’s place, that he would be the one to take her back to her old family home. But he couldn’t do that.

  Her words still stung him. He needed time to think about what she had accused him of.

  There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes as he stepped forward, but it was quickly extinguished as he helped her onto the horse behind the servant. “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know.” She turned away from him. “Let’s get going, there isn’t much time to lose.”

  As the horse set off at a trot, Luke stood in front of the cottage, watching it go. But Ella never looked back. He began to wonder if he would ever see her again…

  Chapter Fifteen

  Her ancestral home was a gloomy place. Funny how she had never realized that before, but her time away had definitely changed her perspective on many things. The neglected gardens, in particular, were quite depressing. She supposed no one had bothered to care for them since she had left and many of the plants had withered and died away.

  She was a little surprised that her stepmother hadn’t done something for them. She certainly seemed to have a care for plants, more than people, sometimes. Or perhaps her only concern was reserved for the private walled-off section of the garden that belonged to her for exclusive use. The place where she grew all of her favorite flowers and the ingredients needed for her handcrafted beauty potions.

  Lady Isabelle was coming from that direction now, carrying a berry basket. Which struck Ella as being a rather odd thing to be doing while Catherine’s condition remained so grave. But ever since her arrival, her stepmother had left her in sole charge of her stepsister’s care.

  Catherine began to thrash about in her bed, drawing her attention away from the window. Ella hurried to her side, and noticed that the seizures had begun again. Strong convulsions that rocked her entire body from head to toe. She reached down to try to hold her by the shoulders, to keep from hurting herself she had done before with her flailing, but before she could, Catherine managed to grab both of her arms, the shaking pausing for a moment as she gazed up at Ella, but it was impossible to tell if she actually recognized her or not.

  The expression in her eyes was hollow, as if she was no longer there. Not completely. The pupils had dilated until they nearly obscured the normal color of her irises. Her skin was hot, dry, and red. She was also breathing too far too fast. “Beware the bells,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?” That was the first somewhat sensible thing she had said in the whole time that Ella had been at her bedside.

  But instead of answering she began to shake again, babbling a string of syllables that never quite formed into words. She began to lash out too, as if fighting off demons that only she could see.

  The sight broke Ella’s heart. To see her brilliant stepsister reduced to this state… It was unlike any illness she had ever heard of, but it was not an unfamiliar one. In a strange way, it reminded her of the unknown disease that had taken her father’s life, ten years ago.

  Which was why she knew how hopeless the situation was. None of the physicians that had come to attend him had been able to figure out what was causing his illness, nor had they known how to cure it. They had only been able to do their best to treat the symptoms.

  And that was all Ella could do now. To try to make Catherine as comfortable as possible in any way that she could.

  After a time, she settled down again. It was difficult to tell if she was sleeping or simply unconscious now, which didn’t make it any better than the thrashing and babbling. Ella only hoped that it would last at least another six hours, as that had been the interval since her last attack and Catherine definitely needed the rest in case another came upon her.

  She sat down in the chair beside the bed, eyeing the bowl of small, black berries that her stepmother had brought in earlier. Lady Isabelle had fed them to her daughter shortly after the very last attack, insisting that it would give her the strength she needed to fight off this illness.

  She had done the very same thing ten years ago. Ella had wanted to remind her that it had done no good back then, but chose not to say anything. Her stepmother had never cared much for her opinion the first place, and she had to suppose that the older woman was already out of her mind with
grief at seeing her daughter in this condition.

  No matter how strained the relationship had become recently, this was still her flesh and blood.

  Outside, there was the clatter of horses’ hooves against the stone road just outside of the manor. She was fairly certain there was more than one rider, but this part of the house did not face the front, so she could not get a glimpse of what was going on.

  The sound of the front door being opened echoed throughout the old house, followed by the less distinct sound of voices raised in anger. Her stepmother’s voice was the easier to distinguish, rather high-pitched and screechy in the way that it always tended to be when she was most furious. The one that was arguing with Lady Isabelle was lower and distinctly male.

  If Ella didn’t know better, she would swear that it was Luke.

  She stepped out of the sick chamber and headed to the main stairs. And found that it was indeed her husband, arguing with her stepmother. They both looked up at her approach.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “Your Highness, this family is in no condition to be receiving guests at this time,” Lady Isabelle said. Her voice sounded perfectly polite and icy, but long experience allowed Ella to hear the pure rage that was simmering just under the surface.

  “I’ve come here to support my wife in this trying time. Do you have an objection to that?” Luke’s voice was similarly tense and he fixed Ella’s stepmother with a glare that made her take a hasty step back.

  “No. Of course not.” But the older woman’s expression made Ella’s shudder. It was not all that different from the look she had gotten on her face every time that she had decided to beat her for some perceived infraction. “We were just about to sit down to the evening meal. I regret that we do not have enough prepared for both you and your manservant.”

  “That’s something that Carter can take care of himself. I merely brought him with me to try to take some of the load off of your household at this time.”

  “How very thoughtful of you, Your Highness.”

  He nodded, and Ella wondered how he could so smoothly ignore the obvious sarcasm with which he was being addressed.