Malicious Prince: A Reverse Harem Romance (Territorial Mates Book 3)

by Mary E. Twomey

  I bang open the door to find Salem examining her stitches with a skeptical eye. They both jump at my entrance, but my headache is finally gone, so I don’t care that I’ve startled them. “You were shouting,” I explain.

  “I just went over this with Salem. I didn’t say a single word. Oh, your nose! What happened? Are you okay?”

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, tucking my shirt back in and straightening so I don’t look as disheveled as I feel.

  “Dog bite aside, I’m fine. You two have really ramped up the intensity lately, huh. Is there something wrong that I don’t know about? Some reason I should be on edge?”

  I shake my head. “No more than usual. Something’s wrong, though. The further away from you I get, I can hear what sounds like your voice in my head. The more we’re separated, the louder it gets, until it feels like my brain is splitting in half.”

  “Are you serious? The distance—your headache—gave you a nosebleed? That’s not psychosomatic.”

  I nod, grateful the motion doesn’t cause me a lick of pain. “I don’t understand any of it, only that the price of separating isn’t one I’ll be willing to pay again any time soon. I do hope you don’t grow tired of the sight of me.”

  “You’re hearing me when I’m not even speaking? What am I saying?”

  “I can’t make out a single word, but I know it’s you.”

  “How?”

  “Because I know your voice.” I don’t mean for that to come out sappy and romantic, but that’s precisely how it hangs in the air between us. I see her swoon, and I feel something similar echo in my own chest. I do know her voice. “I look forward to you,” I admit. Yeah, that’s disgustingly sappy. But it’s true, and she’s the kind of woman who deserves to hear true things.

  Her neck shrinks, and it’s just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “I look forward to you, too.”

  Justice stalks into the room with his chest puffed, taking in the sight of Lily leaning against Salem’s headboard, gaunt and sleepy. “I look forward to speaking with ye. Lily, is it? I’m Prince Justice, Salem’s older brother.”

  Justice is huge, almost as big as Salem. Though Salem’s always been the surlier one to look at, the one everyone’s fearful of, Lily shrinks in Justice’s presence. “Pleased to meet you, your majesty.” She makes to get out of bed, but Salem holds his hands up. “Salem, I’m supposed to bow. He’s royalty.”

  Salem’s jaw is set. “Not a single toe is going to touch on this floor, aye? Ye were attacked. Justice doesn’t need the bowing.”

  Justice tucks his hands behind to rest on the small of his back, trying to look proper, as he always does when he’s addressing the territory. “I hear you’re the one bringing controversy and change into my land. I can wait until you’ve rested and eaten before we discuss your scheme, but not much longer than tha. I’ll see ye after supper tonight in the throne room to discuss your plans for my people.”

  Lily nods. “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Enough, Justice,” Salem chides with a growl.

  Justice points at the ground in a stabby motion. “No, Salem. If this lass is part of your plan, I need to know what she’s up to. I deserve to know who’s living under my roof.”

  Justice doesn’t argue any more than that, but turns on his heel and shuts the door behind him, leaving us to trade anxious glances while silence falls around us.

  7

  Dining with the Boys

  Lilya

  I’ve never been clumsier in my entire life. Eating at the wood-hewn table with Justice, Salem and Des sets my teeth on edge. I’m ravenous, but knowing that I’m going to have to sit down and chat with Justice after the meal has my stomach churning with dread. They eat lots of root vegetables here, so the parsnip mash is accompanied by a thick brown gravy that’s also ladled over the grainy bread, which is rougher to chew than steak.

  It’s cute to watch Salem in his home, his elbows on the table and ankle looped around mine where no one can see. While the other tables in the vampire and fae royal families were long and regal, this one is simpler. Honest. Built just big enough for a family of four. Maybe it’s the normal dining room, and they use a different one for big, fancy occasions. Or maybe they don’t care about big, fancy occasions. The wooden table warms the stone-walled room, adding a touch of togetherness in the cold mansion. I like these close quarters, that my feet can touch both Des and Salem, and I’m not too far from Justice that I can’t read the shadows in his slate eyes whenever he looks at me.

  He’s calculating something. Still sizing me up to see if I can be trusted. I’m not sure what test I’m supposed to be passing while I eat, but I haven’t aced it yet, because Justice is still casting me skeptical glances every time I shovel some of the mash into my mouth.

  “The troops were fine without ye,” Justice tells Salem. “Ye trained your captains well.”

  “Tha’s good to know. We’re not at war, so I didn’t see the harm in stepping away for a few. Part of the border wall fell, so when I dropped off my prisoner on the way in, I sent a battalion to clear away the debris. But I’m not having them reconstruct it.”

  He leaves the decision with no room for discussion, putting his foot down that unity is on the horizon. There’s no use rebuilding a wall if he intends to have it torn down.

  I’m so proud of this great man. It shocks me every time someone so incredible looks at me like I might be worth his time.

  Justice skates over the possible tension. “Ye should take a break more often. Some time off looks good on ye, brother.”

  I watch for signs of Salem being played, for his time away to mean that another agenda had room to push its way in, but I don’t get that vibe from Justice. He looks genuinely glad for his brother getting a break.

  “Tha’s why we want this merger,” Salem replies, segueing into our agenda. “If we aren’t fighting each other over boundary lines and trade agreements, our people can work on unconditioning themselves to be ready for war. Befriend the enemy, and there isn’t one to fight anymore. War is exhausting us all.”

  “Is tha what you’re doing with Destino and Lily, here? Befriending the enemy?”

  Salem stiffens, though I can tell by the honesty beaming from Justice’s lowered shoulders that he didn’t mean anything bad by it. Salem leans forward, jabbing his fork in Justice’s direction. “Watch it, Brother. Ye know Des has been my best mate since we were tikes. And I’m not befriending Lily. I’m in love with her. Get a good look at your future sister-in-law, because I’ll be marrying her as soon as she gets settled.”

  It’s the second time he’s mentioned marrying me, and both times, I don’t know what to do with it. Did I miss the part where he asked for my hand? Is it just assumed that we’re getting married? I don’t know why this hits me in both the right and the wrong ways, but my nose scrunches in time with my heart swelling and cresting.

  “What?” Salem asks of my grimace.

  I don’t want to talk about this in front of Justice. “It’s nothing.”

  Salem looks close to vomiting out of nowhere. “Whenever ye brush anything off, I know it’s big. What?”

  I draw a line through my root vegetable mash, keeping my eyes from all three of them. “You’ve said something like that before, that you’re going to marry me, but you’ve never actually asked me. It’s backwards. Like you’re deciding for me rather than bringing me into the process.”

  Salem rears back, his face horror-stricken as the color drains from it. “Ye don’t want to marry me?”

  I make an X through my mash. “I didn’t say that. Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. Now it’s a whole big thing. It just would’ve been nice to be asked, is all.”

  Des rests his head in his hands, as if he’s tired of dealing with buffoons. “You didn’t ask her, mate? I thought you must’ve, given how you talk about it as if it’s a done deal.”

  I don’t want to dig my heels in on this, and I know I’ve gone along fine with everything so far. But
I’d at least like to be presented with the choice, rather than go along with it all as if I have no ownership in the plan. It’s not the three of them plus their token uterus. It’s the four of us.

  My voice is small when it finally comes, but it’s there. “I kind of want to know that even if uniting the territories wasn’t on the radar, that you’d still choose me. That I’d be the one. For Des and Alex, it was an arrangement that love blossomed from afterwards. I don’t want it to be like that with us.”

  Salem looks as if I’ve just told him he’s fat. He picks up his chair and moves it so it’s touching mine, and then plops back down so there’s not an inch of space between us for confusion to fester. “Ye don’t know tha I love ye? Tha you’re the only one I’ve ever had eyes for? After all we’ve been through, ye don’t know ye own my heart?”

  I hate that we’re having this conversation in front of his brother, so I hide. My face buries itself in the meat of his shoulder, letting me inhale the masculine scent of him that’s always drawn me in. He smells like freshly-cut pine and something spicy I can’t believe I ever lived without.

  Though he’s clearly confused, his fingers find their way to the back of my head, burying themselves in my curls. I love when he sticks his nose on the top of my head and inhales deeply. It feels like I belong, not like I have to do my best to fit in. It’s like all the things I’m not and all the wretched things I am don’t have to make excuses for themselves. He’s strong enough to hold all the facets of me, and gentle enough not to break them or fix them out of turn.

  “I know you love me,” I tell him. “I just need to know that this is your choice, not your obligation. It’s easier to duck out of an obligation than it is your choice.”

  Maybe I was always Lexi’s obligation.

  No, not Lexi. Prince Alexavier.

  I try not to think about Alexavier; the whole thing is too painful to look at directly just yet.

  “I choose ye,” Salem promises in a whisper. “I will make sure ye never walk alone.”

  It’s the most beautiful thing he could say, and he does so without qualification. He doesn’t cast his brother an embarrassed look at being so emotionally vulnerable; he owns it, even as we go back to eating with me swallowed up in his burly side.

  Justice gapes at his brother as if Salem’s grown a third eyeball.

  “How’s your headache?” I ask Des when Salem engages Justice in asking for updates about the territory that happened while he was away.

  Des’ smile isn’t pained anymore, so I know he’s telling me the truth when he answers, “Completely gone. Seems like you’re the golden cure for what ails me.” His grin falters. “I don’t understand it, though. Why does it feel like my head is going to explode when I’m farther away from you? I had a bloody nose, so I know it’s not just mental.”

  It’s no small worry to me, this new development we’ve tested a few times this afternoon. Every time Des gets down the stairs and through a few hallways while I’m in the bedroom, his headache starts to come back. “I guess we’ll just have to stick close for a while. There are worse problems, right?”

  My hand finds his under the table, our littlest fingers hooking together. We both calm at the simple touch, and I wonder if I’m centering him, or if he’s soothing me.

  He drops my finger but moves his seat closer to mine, because we want to be close, but he still needs his left hand to eat, since his right arm is still immobile. We finish the meal like that, with the guys hemming me in, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  When I move to stand, Justice finally addresses me directly—a thing we’ve managed to avoid throughout the entire meal. “You’ll stay here, Lily. I need a word. Several, in fact.”

  My stomach flips. “Alright.”

  Salem and Des sit back down, but Justice shakes his head. “Out ye go, lads. I’ll return her in one piece.”

  Though Justice is the standing ruler of Jacoba, both the guys pause for my nod before leaving the dining room.

  Justice waits until we’re alone before he cuts to the chase. “Ye seem like a sweet lass, so I’ll not dance around it. My brother is only marrying ye because our land needs water. If you’re tied to Alexavier, the fae people won’t permit their princess to die in a land tha could be easily fixed by a few more wells. But do not trick yourself into believing it’s more than tha.” Justice’s words steal the breath from my lungs, but when he levels his gaze at me, I know the worst is yet to come. He doesn’t look cruel but emotionless when he says, “Salem belongs to another lass.”

  8

  Interrogation by Justice

  Lilya

  I refuse to get emotional in front of this stranger, but the urge to run away from this conversation is strong. Still, I make a silent promise that I will force myself to belong anywhere Salem resides. Even if I’m the only fae for miles, I will make this my home because Salem loves this place. He fights to protect it. “You’re lying. The guys would’ve told me if Salem had a girlfriend.”

  Justice dips his chin. “Maybe Destino and Alexavier don’t know. Salem is a private lad. But I assure ye, there are things brothers only confess to each other, and yet other things Salem won’t tell even me. I’ve overheard him telling our mammy tha he’s in love when he goes to sit by her bedside. Sneaks out to visit the lass every so often. Says he’s ‘going to check the north border’ but he heads in the opposite direction every time. Comes back a couple days later with a secretive look to him and wee smiles he tries to hide. But I see them. I always see him.”

  I bite down on my lower lip. “I don’t believe you. Salem doesn’t lie to me, and I’m not the type to steal another girl’s boyfriend. If you want me gone, we can talk about that without you going and making things up.”

  Maybe that’s too bold, but I’m tired, my leg is sore, and I don’t want to deal with this right now. Or ever. Lexi ditching out is one thing.

  Alexavier, not Lexi. Prince Alexavier.

  To think of Salem leaving, too? I shake my head at myself. I know I’m being selfish, loving the three of them and expecting fidelity in return. But that was the agreement. That’s what we all wanted.

  Justice leans back in his seat across the table from me and folds his thick arms over his chest. He’s built like Salem, which is to say he’s intimidating even when he’s not trying to be. Sizing me up as he is, I’m acutely aware of how small I am.

  “I do want ye gone,” he admits, and my palms start to sweat. “Or, I did, anyway. I don’t understand it all. There are parts of your plan tha are barking mad, but Salem’s right tha we can’t keep things going as they are. Our wells are drying up. An alliance with the fae isn’t ideal, but it makes sense. But the vampires? I fail to see how tha’s necessary. They’ve done more harm to us than the fae. The fae just ignore us while we’re struggling. The vampires get aggressive. They draw blood. I can’t imagine how ye want me to pitch an alliance with them to Jacoba.”

  I run my tongue over my top row of teeth while I think through his words and pick out the ones I can deal with. “I appreciate that you’re being direct. We don’t have to like each other. I’d rather know what I’m dealing with than have you smile at me while plotting to stab me in my sleep.”

  His eyebrows lift into his hairline. He looks so much like Salem, but with subtle differences. His hair isn’t gray. He’s clean-shaven. His shoulders perhaps aren’t as broad as Salem’s. But everything else is so very similar. Justice’s chin tilts to the side as his eyes narrow. “Is tha what ye think of shifters? Tha we’re a bunch of violent lowlifes?”

  I band my arms over my stomach, holding myself while I try to keep my chin level and appear as if I have some semblance of bravery in my arsenal. “You forget I was raised in Neutral Territory. I know that enemies come in all forms. I’ve had my life endangered by shifters, by vampires and by the fae. I’m not naïve enough to think one race turned out more horrible than the others. It’s all different shades of the same bad color.” I lean forward, hoping I make
sense to Justice, that I’m not the skinny idiot this all happens around, but that I help craft the change on purpose. “All we’re trying to do is make people see that we’re not so different. The things that make us the same far outnumber the things that divide us. We all need better resources. We all need kindness and a neighbor who cares if we die alone. We need to respect and trust the people in authority so everyone doesn’t feel the weight of the world on their shoulders when they struggle to find their optimism. And frankly, optimism shouldn’t be in such short supply.”

  Justice blinks three times, clearly unprepared for me to have an actual response. “I assumed this was one of Alexavier’s hairbrained schemes he managed to talk Destino and Salem into, but perhaps it was your idea.”

  I let out an airy laugh through my nose. “Your first guess was right. It was Prince Alexavier’s idea. It was a good one. The three of us agreed this was what the world needed to move forward. Aren’t you tired?” I lean back, hoping I don’t look confrontational. “Aren’t you bored of the same battles over and over? Don’t you want help for your territory?”

  “Help tha comes at the expense of power is no help to me.”

  “What power do you imagine anyone would be taking from you? It’ll still be three territories, but this time without borders. Your family will still rule over Jacoba. They’ll need you more than ever. You’ll still maintain control and make the laws for your people. But you can’t keep the world out if you want your people to thrive. That’s not how life works.”

  Justice laces his fingers together behind his head, digesting my words as he leans back in his chair that he’s rocking on its back two legs. “Okay, let’s say you’re right and I agree. The second we take those borders down, it’s going to be chaos. My people hate the vampires. All tha resentment isn’t going to go away in a blink.”