Taken by Storm (Storms of Blackwood Book 1)

by Elle Middaugh

  The king opened the heavy wooden door and escorted me inside... locking the door behind us. My whole body went cold. Fear had internal warning signals firing everywhere. Danger! Run! Escape! But there was nowhere to go, nothing to do.

  My gaze darted over to my mother who sat in a chair in the middle of the room. Her hands were tied behind her back, a gag was stuffed in her mouth, and an empty look of resignation painted across her face.

  Oh fuck, this was bad. This was really really bad.

  "Ah, my lovely new wife, Katelynn," The king said, strolling over to her.

  I’m sorry... wife? When the fuck had that happened?

  “Is—” I swallowed hard. “Is this true?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. My heart sank as my throat tightened.

  The king gently traced her jawline with a finger. "Of course, it’s true. How could I not want a woman so beautiful and strong?”

  She jerked away, and he backhanded her faster than either of us could blink. The slap echoed off the stone walls, bouncing back and filling me with trepidation. Her cheek turned a blistering shade of pink, and her eyes filled with water.

  I needed to do something, to protect her somehow.

  I took a few steps forward. "Don't you dare treat my mother like this. Especially if she's now... your wife."

  His eyes narrowed, making him look even more like a snake. "And wives are pawns. Just as princes and princesses are. Just as peasants and properties are. This entire planet is nothing more than a board game, and I am playing to win.”

  He reached into his robe and withdrew a shiny silver knife.

  I gasped as my mother's eyes widened.

  "Don't kill her!" I screamed, scared to move another inch in case it set him off.

  He smiled, strolling around the back of the chair and over to Mom's other side. "Kill her? I'd never dream of it. She’s my wife, remember? She might be a pawn, but she's certainly one of the more powerful ones."

  My brows scrunched. Power? Mother had no magic. She had no wealth, no property, no influence. And despite being one of the wives of the king, she certainly had no authority or control.

  "Then..." I swallowed hard. "Why do you have a knife?"

  His smile spread wider. "I said I wouldn't kill her. I never said I wouldn't hurt her."

  He gently sliced the blade into the skin of her neck, and as the first line of blood slid down to her collarbone, I screamed. I couldn't help it; I was petrified. Every bone in my body shook. Every nerve ending was on fire.

  "Stop!" I cried. My vocal cords ached like the knife had sliced through them instead of Mom. "I'll do anything! Please!"

  He shushed me, shaking his head, still gently tracing the blade down her neck and onto her shoulder. The fabric of her dress split like butter, a testament to how fucking sharp the knife’s edge must've truly been. One wrong move and he could cut too deep, killing her by accident.

  Finally, he stopped slicing and tapped the bloodied tip of the knife on his chin as if he were contemplating something.

  "You'll do anything, will you?" he repeated, glancing down at Mom's pale face. "A foolhardy response, wouldn't you agree?"

  Mom squeezed her eyes shut and nodded quickly.

  "I don't care," I said, breathless as my heart pounded violently in my chest. "Just don't hurt her anymore."

  The king moved back to the other side of the chair, the side that hadn't yet been sliced. Tapping her cheek with the flat side of the blade, he shook his head.

  "I don't know. The only thing I asked of you so far was to choose one of my sons to marry, and you couldn't even do that."

  He turned the knife, and the tip punctured her skin once more.

  "Stop!" I screamed, desperate, on the verge of maniacal. "I'll choose a prince! I'll choose one right now! Ben! I choose Prince Benson!"

  But the king merely smiled and continued tracing the blade down the side of her face and neck.

  That's when the tears filled my eyes and spilled over. Boiling hot and swimming with anger, terror, and utter hopelessness, they burned down my cheeks, stinging like I imagined the blade would.

  Oh, gods, what have I done?

  "I'm sorry, Mom," I sobbed as my whole body shook. "I never should have entered the woods that night. I wish I’d never even met that magical man."

  Her chin quivered, and a tear of her own slid down her cheek and soaked into the gag.

  "Now, now," the king cooed, pausing his blade midslice. "This is a glorious beginning for us all. We should respect and appreciate it."

  Finally, he removed the knife from her neck and wiped the blood on his trousers.

  "As much as I'd like to accept your choice in princes, I am, unfortunately, a man of my word. I promised you a whole month before you had to choose, and you will take every last hour, minute, and second that you are given and not a moment less. Do you understand?"

  My throat swelled and nearly closed off. It was like my whole world was caving in and suffocating me.

  How was Mom going to survive an entire month of this?

  "You will go with the princes to Nightshade Castle in Northern Blackwood where you will do two things. First, you will ensure Prince Calvin's betrothal to Princess Bria falls through. Second, you will continue to court all four of my sons. I expect weekly letters informing me of the details of your dates. If you fail to report, your mother will pay for your insubordination. If you fail to stop the marriage, your mother will pay. If you think you can fool me and not actually attend these dates, your mother will pay. Trust me, I have eyes everywhere. I'll know if you're lying. And finally, if you so much as think of telling my sons, or anyone else, what's going on behind the scenes, I will tear your mother apart until she begs for a death that never comes.”

  I slapped a trembling hand to my mouth and sobbed even harder, the tears flooding down my face like a waterfall. What kind of a fucking monster was he? Who did this to people?

  "Do you understand, Miss Ravenel?"

  I nodded quickly, unable to speak through the convulsions of my body.

  Then bam!

  His fist met my face with enough force to fell an Oak tree. I hit the ground with a crash I couldn't even feel—I was too consumed with the blazing pain in my face and skull.

  "You will address me as Your Majesty," he said, panting a bit.

  Stars bounced around my vision as he strolled over to the door and unlocked it.

  "Let's try this again. Do you understand, Miss Ravenel?"

  I swallowed hard, sickened by the thick taste of iron filling my mouth.

  "Yes, Your Majesty."

  "Good. Now get the fuck out."

  I scrambled to my feet, then paused to assess my mom still bleeding and tied to the chair. "What about her? I can't leave her behind."

  The king smiled cunningly. "Her comfort level depends entirely on your obedience, which is a real shame, because you're fucking terrible at it. I said get the fuck out."

  When I hesitated still, he completely lost his shit.

  "One!" he bellowed, slashing the blade across the top of my mother's forearm. Blood flew halfway across the room, and she screamed through the gag.

  "Two!" he cried, slashing her again.

  Finally, I took the hint and sprinted from the room, sobbing as I skipped the stairs at least three at a time. When I reached the bottom, I blindly stumbled into the hall, trying to find my room through the gushing tears and gut-wrenching pain.

  I had no idea how I did it.

  I burst into my room and locked the door behind me. Then I rushed to my bed and collapsed face-first into my mattress. If I was lucky, I'd suffocate to death.

  How the fuck had this happened? I thought life in the mines was bad, but I'd give anything to have that shitty existence back in place of this gruesome nightmare.

  I thought of Mom, still tied to the chair upstairs, and prayed to the gods that my leaving had somehow helped her. I thought of the king’s words—doing my best to forget the brutal ugliness of h
is actions—and contemplated what I had to do in order to keep her safe.

  I need to go to Nightshade Castle. I need to ruin the betrothal. I need to court all four princes and report weekly on my progress. And I need to keep everything I just saw and heard an absolute secret.

  A soft bleating came from the dark near my bed post. That familiar sound lent me healing and hope. Gem must've brought Speedy back to me for the night.

  "Oh, Speedy," I whispered, reaching for him in the dark. When my fingers found his fur, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him onto the bed alongside me.

  Comforted by his company, I allowed sorrow to consume me once more. It burned through my veins like poison, wrecking my mind, body, and soul with the fever of a plague.

  Speedy slowly nuzzled my neck and bleated again, softer this time. It was like he understood my pain and he was trying to comfort me. I'd never really had a pet before him, but I imagined that's what made pets so invaluable—their loyalty, especially in the darkest of times.

  And that's when it hit me.

  When the king said Mom was one of the most powerful pawns, he wasn't really referring to her. He was referring to me, and her power over me, because I was loyal to her. If he controlled her, then he controlled me.

  As much as it infuriated me, it also quieted me. Because he was right. It was true. Even though I knew he was playing me like a puppet, I would allow the bullshit behavior to continue... because it would keep my mother safe.

  I cried for the rest of the night, too restless and weary to sleep.

  As the pale light of dawn crept through my window, a quiet knock sounded at my door.

  "Alexis?"

  It was a male voice. One of the princes. I couldn’t tell which.

  "Where's Gemma?" I asked in response, voice listless and dull.

  "Busy in the servants’ quarter, I'm afraid. Besides, there's no time for primping. Just throw a dress on and come out. We're leaving for Nightshade in ten minutes."

  I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath.

  I was officially all cried out.

  All I could do now was follow the king's commands and pray to the gods my mother and I both survived.

  Or maybe death would be a softer sentence?

  Chapter 14

  “Holy Hades!” Cal shouted as I opened my bedroom door. “What the hell happened to your face?”

  Do not let the princes or anyone else know what’s going on behind the scenes.

  I forced a smile and a nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “Would you believe me if I said I fell during a curtsy and caught myself with my face?”

  It wasn’t a total lie; I really had fallen during a curtsy last night. Of course, that was way before the punch that had actually caused my face to swell and bruise.

  Cal's eyes narrowed. "I actually might believe that, under different circumstances. You didn't happen to have a meeting with the king last night, did you?"

  "Gods, no," I said after scoffing. "I'm sure the king has a thousand things to do that are far more important than chatting with me."

  He stared at me for a moment longer, thoroughly assessing my face. "You seriously fell?"

  I smiled genuinely. "I seriously fell."

  I also got punched in the fucking face by that bastard-ass prick you call father, but who's keeping track?

  He sighed heavily, never smiling, and ran a hand through his golden hair. "Come on. Rob's saddling up your horse as we speak. We should be ready to ride as soon as we reach the stables."

  My eyebrows shot up. "Ride? You mean, we won't be taking a carriage?"

  Cal held out his elbow, and I took it quickly, eager to keep the topic off my injury.

  "I've arranged for a carriage to follow us with our bags, but that'll take days. We can get there much faster if we ride unhindered."

  I stared at the spotless carpet runner as we walked. "I’m sorry, Cal. About last night. I didn’t mean to ruin things with Timberlune. I didn’t mean to spill all my secrets. The Ambassador just—”

  “Glamoured you,” Call filled in. It wasn’t even a question. He knew. "No worries, Peach. I’m not even upset anymore. I just hope we can fix this."

  A slow grin crept onto my aching face. "Peach? Where'd that one come from?"

  Cal's smile brightened, as if he were a schoolboy proud of his homework. "It makes perfect sense. Your magic is peach colored. Plus, you can be a real peach most times."

  "Why do I get the feeling you're using that word sarcastically?"

  "Me?" he asked, gesturing to his chest with his free hand. "Sarcastic? I'd never dream of it."

  I grinned. "Ah, there it is again. Sarcasm suits you, Prince Calvin. Keep it up."

  He chuckled, sending warmth into my core. He was so handsome when he laughed and smiled. So gentle and kind, nothing like the burly exterior that made him seem coarse and heartless. Nothing like his father. Or was he?

  "How do you feel about being the ruler of Nightshade?" I asked, apparently out of the blue.

  He didn't answer right away. Instead, he seemed to be thoughtfully contemplating the question. I appreciated the sentiment. At least he was taking my question seriously.

  "It's a blessing and a curse," he eventually said. "A blessing because I'm in a position where I can actually truly help people. But a curse because it's never that simple. Helping one person oftentimes means hurting another, and I cannot please everyone always. It's a huge responsibility, but I do the best I can, or at least, as much as my father will allow."

  I thought back to last night. The fight King Zacharias picked with the ambassador and the order he gave me to thwart his son's betrothal.

  "Why is your father so hell-bent on starting a war?"

  Silence crept in. Without a word, Cal opened a thick side door and led us out onto the lawn.

  It was already turning into a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue, there were no clouds in sight, and the sunlight peeking up above the trees was warm and radiant.

  Cal sighed. "I have no idea why my father does most of the things he does. But I can guarantee you it has something to do with power. He would probably rather conquer them than have them as allies."

  That sounded exactly like something he'd do.

  "And what about you? You'd rather marry Princess Bria than risk war?"

  “Of course, I would,” he said quickly. “It’s my job to protect my people, and war would devastate them. It’s another one of those curses masquerading as a blessing.”

  I pursed my lips as the massive palace barn drew nearer on the horizon. Inside, horses’ tails were swishing overtop of their stall gates, and servants were shoveling hay and manure with pitchforks.

  “So, you don’t want to marry her?” I asked, clarifying. “You just don’t want war more?”

  He glanced over at me and forced a genial smile. “Something like that.”

  How the hell was I supposed to break them up? I didn't want war for the people any more than he did. Then again, I didn't want torture for my mother even more. Just like Cal, I had uncomfortable decisions to make. But unlike Cal, mine were just blatant curses. There was no real winning, only losing a little bit slower.

  We walked around the barn, saving our noses from the worst of the rank smells, and met up with the other three princes out back. Like the other day, they were already mounted up, and Rob had a hold of my horse’s reins.

  "Hey, Caramel," I cooed as I approached my beautiful mare and stroked her long face. She snorted and nuzzled her nose into my good cheek.

  When I stepped back, all four princes were exchanging a series of dark, unreadable looks.

  "What?" I asked, glancing between the brothers nervously.

  "She says she fell down during curtsying," Cal explained.

  "Oh bullshit," Rob said, shaking his head and turning away.

  Ben smiled sympathetically.

  Dan's face paled, and he backed his horse away. "I can't do this. Not again. I swore it'd never happen again..." />
  "Hey," Cal said gently, trying to soothe his brother. "This isn't the same."

  "Like hell it's not," Rob added, darkening the mood further.

  "What isn't the same?" I asked, glancing between the four of them. "I seriously did trip and fall. I'm so fucking clumsy. I'll never make a good princess. I had much more finesse with a pickax."

  Ben chuckled and shook his head. "There you go again, Lexicon. 'Finesse' and 'pickax' are two words I wouldn't normally pair together."

  I stuck my tongue out at him. "I thought I was Sailor, not Lexicon?"

  He grinned. "Sorry. Lexicon just suits you better. You have a way with words..."

  "A shitty way, apparently."

  "Noooo, of course not," Ben said, only half-assed trying to deny it.

  I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Let me just climb up here and we can get going."

  I hiked up my skirts and glanced at their footing. Copying them, I shoved my left foot into the stirrup and searched for a place to put my hands. A little knobby thing stuck out at the front of the saddle, so I used it as a leverage point. My upper body strength was almost flawless from years of jewel mining, so I pulled myself up easily.

  From there, I wasn't really sure what to do. When Ben sat me in the saddle the other day, he'd left both of my legs dangling off to the left. But... I glanced at the position of their legs. They had one on each side. I cocked my head and raised my brows. Fuck it. I swung my leg up and over, gathering my skirts in a pile between my legs.

  Gentlemen that they were, Cal and Ben averted their eyes. Dan was still closed off, lost in his own little world. Which left... Rob.

  He sighed as he realized the same thing and rolled his stormy gray eyes.

  "Ladies don't spread their legs open, Jewels. You're supposed to keep them closed and off to the side."

  I was astounded. I grabbed Caramel's reins and gave her a little nudge, successfully coaxing her into a trot.

  "First of all, I am no lady. And second of all..."

  A blush burned across my cheeks as I damn near uttered something about sex in front of my smoking-hot suitors.

  You want gangbang, Lex? Because that's how you get a gangbang.

  "Yes?" Rob asked with raised brows. "Do enlighten me."