She turned to Drake, giving him the sweetest, most fake smile.
He lifted his hand in front of her flexing his fingers. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”
Her fake smile turned sour. “I doubt you know that many women, because if you did, you wouldn’t be such a jerk all of the time.”
Grady laughed as he walked away, leaving them alone.
“I know plenty of women, and, I can assure you, none of them think I’m a jerk.”
“Oh, right, I forgot. You’re a womanizer.” She stepped forward, tilting her head up to him.
“It’s not my fault women find me completely irresistible.” His eyes swept across her face in a way that bugged her.
Don’t appraise me!
His gaze pulled back up to her eyes. “You really have no concept of how immature you’re acting, do you?”
“Just like how you have no concept of how arrogant you are,” she said.
“I’d rather be arrogant than completely naive to the fact that I’m behaving like a spoiled child.”
“I’m not naive to it. I know I’m behaving like a spoiled child,” she snapped.
Wait...What did I just admit to?
He rolled his eyes then pointed to a large boulder. “Sit there.”
Myka slowly sank to her seat as she looked around. The four other men were scattered among the trees. One lay on his back in the dirt with hands behind his head and eyes closed. Grady was in the river splashing water on his face. The old man was next to his horse, rummaging through his bag. Then there was the bald guy with a goatee. His long features and face reminded Myka of a horse. From now on, he would be Horseface. He sat across from her, dragging his eyes over her body. Myka tugged at the sides of her gray jacket, pulling it closed over her chest.
Drake untied the rope at his belt and threw it at Horseface. “Dawsick, watch her for a minute.”
Dawsick’s smile turned greasy. “I’d be glad to.”
Myka's eyes followed Drake’s retreating back, and for a moment, her heart sank. It’s not that she thought Drake was a saint. He was the one who had kidnapped her and tied her to him, but the way Dawsick ogled her made Myka’s insides squirm. Maybe Drake was better than the alternative.
Dawsick scooted close to her, sharing her same rock. He ran a finger through her hair, and instinctively she tilted her head away.
“What’s the matter, princess? Don’t you want some company?”
Myka turned her knees away and flipped her head to the side.
His fingers moved from her hair and started tracing circles on the side of her shoulder. She jerked her arm away and scooted over even more. Her eyes darted to Drake like he could somehow save her from this disgusting man, but he was talking with the old man.
“What? Are you saving everything you’ve got for Drake later tonight?”
Myka clenched her teeth.
Horseface placed his hand on her knee and squeezed. “Don’t think I’m not going to want a turn.” She didn’t look at him, but she could imagine by his sultry tone the type of smile he was giving her.
Her empty stomach felt sick, and her heart raced with anxiety. She liked to think of herself as a pretty strong-minded person, but she had her limits.
His grimy hand slowly inched its way up from her knee. She hated this man, and she especially hated the liberties he took with her. Without thinking, she leaned over and bit the side of his arm where his bicep stretched across her. A mixture of sweat and blood brushed against her tongue, and Horseface’s high-pitched scream filled her ears. His free hand grabbed a chunk of her hair, and he yanked upward, trying to get her teeth out of the side of his arm. The searing pain at her scalp was enough to make her release her clamp.
Horseface twisted his arm, examining the bite marks. Smooth blood dripped to the ground, mixing with the dirt. His eyes flashed to hers, and Myka braced herself for his wrath. His arm lifted, and she closed her eyes, but her eyes jolted open when something caught her wrists, dragging her to her feet. She looked up to see Drake. His fingers gripped her tighter, and he pulled her away from Horseface.
“Dawsick! What are you doing?” Drake snarled, yanking Myka forward.
“She bit me!” Horseface yelled.
“Yeah, well, you probably deserved it.” Drake forced her to sit on another boulder ten feet away from Horseface and his long, piercing scowl.
“Did you really have to bite him?” Drake asked.
“Says the man who kidnaps people.” Myka glared back at him.
“What were you going to do after you bit him? He’s twice your size.”
She gestured back to Horseface. He had walked to the river to rinse his bleeding arm, all the while shouting profanities—a real winner of a guy. “Did you see the way he touched me?” She shivered, thinking back to it. “How is that okay?”
“Yes, I saw it, and I’m sorry. Why do you think I came over? But if I hadn’t intervened, Dawsick would’ve killed you.”
These men seemed to like killing princesses. Just ask Princess Seran.
“What was I supposed to do?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you call out for me?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she huffed. “Probably, because I thought you wouldn’t care what your friend was doing to me.”
Drake’s expression dropped like her words had bugged him. “I care about that.”
She raised her chin, putting on a brave face. “Well, I can hold my own.” She wished that was true, but she shuddered to think of what would’ve happened if Drake hadn’t come to her rescue.
“I doubt that you can hold your own against a man like Dawsick.”
“Really? Because I seemed to have handled you just fine.” Her gaze went to the fresh cut on his eye and then to his arm where she’d shot him a month earlier. “I’d expect some scarring if I were you, a nice addition to your other scars.”
His jaw clenched in obvious frustration, and he looked away. “If Dawsick tries anything like that again, yell for me.”
She glanced away. She didn’t like this protective version of Drake. It was admirable, and Myka didn’t want to admire anything about her kidnapper. He pushed a hand through his hair, drawing her eyes back to him and her scarf tied around his arm. “I want my hair tie back.”
Drake shook his head. “It’s mine now.”
“How?”
“I paid a coin for it.”
Myka glared at him, folding her arms across her chest.
Drake walked to his saddle pack and tossed her some wrapped granola crunches and dried apples. “Eat this, princess.”
Myka hated how everyone here called her princess all of the time. She was a princess, but the way they said it made it sound like it was a bad thing. It was time for a little game. Princess was now the magic word. It was just a matter of time before someone said it.
“I know it’s not muffins and rainbows, or whatever you’re used to, but this is the real world, princess.”
Oh, that was too easy.
Myka flipped her hair behind her shoulder dramatically. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t even eat rainbows.”
He rolled his eyes as he took a seat on the ground across from her. His back leaned up against a tree, and he straightened one leg out in front of him. “You can’t, but I’m sure a princess like you expects that you can.”
Myka flipped the other side of her hair, even bigger this time. “That doesn’t even make sense. If you’re going to make an argument, at least make an intelligent one.”
“Do you always act like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re better than everyone else.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m better than everyone here. The bar set by kidnappers is pretty low.”
Drake huffed. “Exactly my point. You're using your title as princess to behave poorly.”
Wow.
Both hands went to her hair, tossing it forcefully into the air behind her.
His brows
furrowed. “What are you doing?”
She pressed her lips together. “Nothing.”
“What’s wrong with your hair?”
“Nothing.”
“Listen,” he said in between his own bites of food, “let’s not make this harder than it has to be. You don’t like me, and I’m not a big fan of yours, so let’s just stay out of each other’s way. Okay?”
“Don’t like you? Don’t like you?” She turned her head to the side and laughed. Then her mocking gaze landed on him again. “I don’t like it when a seed gets stuck in my tooth, and I can’t get it out with just my tongue. Or, I don’t like when my hand falls asleep because I slept on it weird. Those are things I don’t like. You? You are on a completely different level than that.” She narrowed her eyes in on him. “I hate you.”
Myka had never used that word before when describing her feelings toward another human being, but surely the man who had kidnapped her and prevented her from saving her dying father deserved that kind of sentiment.
He shrugged. “I’m not surprised by that.”
“Good,” she said, setting her jaw.
“Perfect,” he said with a fake smile.
Myka looked away. She hated Drake Vestry. He was the man who had kidnapped her when her father needed her the most. It would be his fault if her father hadn’t made it through the night.
Drake
Kidnapping King Adler’s daughter had been harder than Drake had thought it would be. Myka was frustratingly beautiful, and her bright blue eyes messed with him. Maybe if he hadn’t met her beforehand, things would be different. But he had met her before, and she had treated him completely differently. Now she hated him. Her anger was justified. After all, they had kidnapped her. But he hadn’t expected her to be so mad at him personally, scorching him with her ice-cold blue eyes every time she looked in his direction. She should spread the hate out among all the operatives equally.
At least her tears had stopped. Her sorrow had melted into some kind of indignant reaction that was strangely amusing. But Drake could never admit to anyone else that he thought the princess’s antics were somewhat entertaining. He didn’t even like admitting it to himself.
He was here for the weapons, not for entertainment.
Everything would have been easier if they didn’t have to involve the princess, but that is what the Council had decided. They needed the weapons, and the Council thought that the princess was their ticket to getting them. Drake hoped King Adler would realize his daughter was missing, and feel the despair and hopelessness of losing someone he loved. It was that despair that would hopefully drive the king to give up his weapons, and this whole ordeal could be over.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, breaking the silence. “What do you want with me?”
Drake looked away, unsure if he wanted to tell her. The operatives had never said that their goals were a secret.
When he didn’t answer, she pressed again. “What was in the letter you sent back to Tolsten House?”
Drake swallowed. “We want the weapons. Your life in exchange for your father’s weapons.”
She leaned in. “There aren’t any weapons.”
“Yes, there are, the illegal ones that your father built without the Council of Essential’s knowledge.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“How is that impossible?”
“My father never did that,” she said, lifting her chin.
“He did do it. He built weapons.”
She shook her head again, more emphatically this time. “Just prototypes. Everything else is a rumor.”
“It’s not a rumor. He built them, and he’s hiding them, and now we want them so that we can destroy them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How can my father bargain with something he doesn’t even have?” Myka shook her head. “You can’t base my entire life on a bunch of rumors.”
Her hypothetical question wasn’t even worth answering, but Drake couldn’t help himself. “It’s not a rumor. Weapons like the ones your father created could destroy all seven kingdoms if he used them. It would be like another Desolation. Is that what you want?”
She leaned forward, contempt bright in her eyes. “How dare you? You don’t know me. You don’t know my father.” Her words were paired with genuine emotion, and it made Drake uncomfortable. “I don’t condone weapons of mass destruction. I would have to be crazy to do that. So when I tell you the weapons don’t exist, I’m not saying that to cover up for my father. I’m saying that because it’s the truth.”
“Does your father not tell you anything, or are you a really great liar?”
“What if he can’t make the trade?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“If you’re as valuable to your father as we think you are,” Drake said, “then it shouldn’t take too much to persuade him to save your life.”
“I am valuable to him. He’ll do anything to save me.”
“That’s what we hope. Once we get the weapons, you can go home,” he said behind her.
Myka laughed in her mocking way. “What are you going to do when you discover that I’m right? That there aren’t any weapons?”
“You’re not right.” His voice remained calm.
“What if I am?”
He shook his head as he watched her. Drake didn’t get the feeling that she was lying. She looked like a girl who truly believed her father was a good man. Would she admit that her father was sick?
“Why do you sneak out of Tolsten House all of the time?” Drake asked.
Her expression wavered, then hardened. “Everyone knows that a young girl who sneaks out is only going one place.”
“And where’s that?”
“To her lover’s house.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
She raised her chin. “You don’t believe that I have a lover?”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Well, I do, and he’s way better looking than you are.”
Drake laughed at her attempt at an insult. “I doubt that.”
She glared at him. “Someone thinks highly of himself.”
“If you’re so close with your father, why don’t you ask permission to go to your lover’s house?”
“I prefer to sneak around. It’s more fun that way.”
“If you have a lover, why did you agree to meet me next month?” he asked.
She laughed, looking away. “I wasn’t actually going to show up.”
Drake’s jaw stiffened.
He was going to show up.
In fact, he’d been looking forward to it the moment they had made the plans…until he’d found out Mya was Princess Myka. Now he had to be all about business.
“What’s your relationship with Rommel and Joett?” he asked.
“I’m sure you already know,” she said. “What did you do to get them to turn on me? Did you pay them?” There was a fresh wave of emotion filling up her eyes, and her voice cracked as she spoke.
She already knew Rommel was tied to Drake somehow. It didn’t matter at this point if he told her the truth. “Rommel is helping us figure out what kind of weapons your father has and how we can destroy them.”
“Rommel?” Myka scoffed. “What does he know about weapons?”
Drake hesitated. “Sounds like there is a lot about Rommel you don’t know.”
“Like the fact that they’re friends with a kidnapper?” Bitterness took over her voice.
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends. More like acquaintances. And they didn’t know about the kidnapping.”
“What a relief,” she said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Here, I thought they had really stabbed me in the back.”
“I’m sure it feels that way, but that’s not how it was.”
“Then tell me,” she said looking right at him. “What do I not know about Rommel that you do?”
“I told you. He’s helping us with the weapons. Anything else I know beyond t
hat isn’t for me to share. You should ask him.”
Myka rolled her eyes. “Now you have moral boundaries? When it’s convenient for you?”
“I’ve always had moral boundaries. It’s my moral code that drives me. Why do you think I’m doing all of this?”
“I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t know why a group of men would kidnap a woman. Who are you people, and who do you work for?”
Drake looked around at the other four men. She didn’t need to know who they were or where they had come from. If she escaped, she would be the first to point them out to her father. Then he remembered he had already said his name earlier when he had introduced himself to Joett. Such a mistake. At the time, he hadn’t thought of Myka as a threat. He’d wanted Joett to know who he was. Not Myka. His slip-up had unwittingly put Albion in danger.
“I’m not from around here,” Drake said. “I work for myself.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not even from Tolsten?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m from the kingdom of Albion. I’m the commander of the Albion army.” There was no point in keeping it a secret. Her father would recognize his name instantly.
“The commander?” Her mouth dropped, and the look on her face said she didn’t believe him.
His face went smug. “That’s right.”
She let out a mocking laugh that bothered Drake. What could she possibly be laughing about now?
“So Albion’s army is led by a teenager? How interesting.” Her satisfied smirk made his muscles tense.
Teenager?
Drake was legitimately offended. How could she possibly think of him as a teenager? He was a large guy, and he grew facial hair faster than some forty-year-olds he’d met.
“Twenty-four is hardly a teenager,” he scoffed.
Her eyes swept over his entire body, appraising him. A disinterested expression fell across her face. “It’s hardly a man either.”
The Stolen Princess: A YA Dystopian Romance (Desolation Book 3) Page 10