THE ROYAL TRIALS: HEIR

by James Tate

  Feeling deflated, useless, and downright wrecked, I slipped back out of the shop and paused as I looked around at the aftermath of King Titus's attack. Something Lee had said was tickling the back of my brain, though, and I set out in the direction of the Hammer and Anvil Inn where we'd been staying.

  Multiple women of Ironforge called out to me as I hurried the short distance up the cobblestone street to the inn, but I didn't stop, not until I reached the entryway, where I paused almost involuntarily and glanced in the direction of the suspension bridge. Or rather... the ravine that the bridge used to cross.

  My stomach twisted, and a rush of heart-clenching sorrow hit me like a ton of rock.

  Zan.

  Fuck.

  My knees weakened, and I would have fallen if I hadn't reached out to grab the doorframe just in time. The solid wood under my hand helped to ground me, to remind me that although the battle was over, the war was far from won. I'd need to shove my grief aside until I could be sure my other two lovers were safe from danger. Until I could be sure my country was safe from danger and those responsible for the last eighteen years of disasters had paid for their actions. Then and only then would I allow myself to wallow in that excruciating pain inside my heart.

  Turning my face away from the glaring lack of bridge, I forced a little steel into my spine and hurried up to the room, where I'd stashed Ophelia's crown just a handful of hours ago. Placing my hand on the rough-hewn floorboards, the reassuring hum of magic emanating from the crown was such a relief I almost cried.

  With shaking hands, I pried up the floorboard and took out the glittering crown. The power from it tingled against my fingers, practically begging me to put it on, but now was far from the time. I had no idea what might happen if I placed such a potent artifact on my head, and wasn’t willing to test it out under such tense circumstances. Instead, I set it aside and grabbed the velvet pouch of stones I'd hidden with it.

  Everything had been such a rush earlier, with the festivities starting and the crazy, intoxicating high of meeting my mother, that I hadn't had time to attach them back to the crown. So it was one of those buzzing stones I grabbed from the pouch and tucked into the palm of my hand.

  Lee had said he needed a boost like he got from the wild magic storms? Well, maybe a stone from Ophelia's most prized magical artifact would work.

  Hopeful, I rushed back out of the inn and across the square to the makeshift hospital where I slipped as quietly as I could through the door. Inside, the mood was somber and silent, and I scarcely dared think about why.

  Lee had his eyes closed, his hands pressed to Ty's torso as his brother lay there looking for all purposes... dead. I sucked in a gasp as I came closer, terrified that he was, but one of Lee's helpers gave me a quick—yet reassuring—headshake.

  "It looks worse than it is," she whispered in my ear, presumably not wanting to break Lee's concentration.

  I gave her a silent nod as I eyed the youngest prince with concern. Sweat beaded over his forehead, and his skin had taken on an ashen pallor that spoke volumes about how exhausted he was.

  Following the assisting woman's example, I avoided alerting them to my presence. Instead I just slipped the stone under the cuff of Lee's shirt where I knew it'd rest on his skin and not roll off. My years of pickpocketing made it an easy enough task, and within moments I was back out on the street without him any the wiser to my visit.

  Hopefully the magic held in that stone would work, and if it did, then I had eight more loose ones to replace it with if he needed them.

  "Queen Zarina," a woman greeted me as I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. I was so tired it was bordering on delirious. "Excuse me for saying, but you look half dead on your feet."

  I cringed, thinking of how many were dead. How many were close to dead. My gaze shifted back to the shop behind me, where Lee was struggling to save his brother’s life.

  "I, uh," I stuttered over my words, not sure what the hell I was doing next. It didn't feel right to just go and take a nap when Ironforge was bleeding. "Greta, right?" I vaguely recognized her from the night before, and she nodded. "What happened down here? I followed Lord Taipanus up the hill and..." I trailed off, waving a hand around the square. "Where are all the soldiers? How'd you beat them?"

  Greta gave me a tired smile and shook her head. "We wouldn't have, if not for the prince. It's him who saved all of us who're left."

  I shot a glance over my shoulder again, like I could see through the walls to where Lee worked tirelessly over his fallen brother. How the hell he'd managed to stop the king’s army while healing so many injured women was beyond me. Then again, if anyone could, it was Lee. Prince Louis. Fuck, I'd really underestimated the princes by lumping them in with their useless father. They couldn't be further from the entitled, cruel, selfish aristocrats I'd painted them as in my head. The three of them genuinely cared for the people of Teich; they just hadn't had a chance to show it. No doubt thanks to one of King Titus's oaths.

  "That's incredible," I replied in a whisper, swallowing back the guilt of all my baseless accusations.

  Greta grunted and gave me a nod, then raised her brows at something over my shoulder, farther down the street. "Oh look, here he is now. The last of the soldiers must be locked up safely."

  "Huh?" I frowned at her in confusion for a second before turning back to the makeshift hospital. But Lee couldn't possibly be finished yet, and he was healing Ty, not locking up prisoners.

  It was that small moment of puzzlement that meant I didn't see him until he was only a few feet away. But when I did...

  "How?" I breathed. The pain in my chest was so sharp I needed to press my bloodied hands over my sternum. "No, this is... this is a dream or something." I shook my head sharply, trying to force myself to wake up. "You're dead. Zan, I saw the bridge fall!" My words came out strangled on a sob as my heart seemed to stop beating and agony rippled through me.

  It was too much. He looked so real.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to keep looking at what was surely the ghost of Prince Alexander, oldest heir to King Titus's throne. He'd died. When the suspension bridge fell, there was simply no way he could have survived.

  Was there?

  A warm, very real hand touched my face, and I gasped. Shock ricocheted through me, causing my whole body to tremble as my lids flew open.

  "Zan?" I whispered. My whole being begged for it to be true, for him to really be here, even though logically I knew he was dead.

  A small, weary smile touched his lips, and his dark eyes seemed to peer right into my soul as his thumb stroked my cheek. "It’s me, Luna," he whispered back, and seven million emotions exploded inside me like a bomb.

  If asked about it afterward, I'd blame it on exhaustion, but right then when he spoke his nickname for me, when I fully realized he was real and not just a grief delusion, dizzying relief and joy overwhelmed me.

  I fainted.

  Chapter 4

  "Zan?" I called out before I'd even fully regained consciousness. Fear gripped me, and I couldn't breathe for thinking I'd imagined it all.

  "Shh, I'm here," his deep voice murmured from somewhere close by, and my whole body relaxed into the bed. We were back in my room at the inn, so I must have been passed out a while. "I'm here, I'm not leaving you. Not again. Not ever again."

  Words failed me, and I just sobbed into his chest as he hugged me tight. He was talking about more than just nearly dying, and I knew it. Magic tingled around us with promise even before he‘d started speaking.

  "I was such an idiot, thinking I could walk away from you. From us. You're my fucking everything, Luna. I love you more than words can describe, and I swear to you, I won't let my jealousy get in our way again." His words thrummed with power, and I shivered.

  "Be careful, Zan," I said gently. "You of all people know the power of an oath."

  His strong fingers tipped my chin, raising my face up so that he could meet my eyes with his steady dark gaze. "Exactly. So you know I m
ean it when I say I will do everything in my power to never hurt you like that again. If that means sharing you with my asshole brothers, then so fucking be it."

  Speechless, I searched his gaze and found nothing but certainty. He knew the oath he was making, and he did it without an ounce of doubt.

  "Zan…" I started to argue. Not because I didn't believe him—his words made my heart pound faster and my skin tingle—but because I was a fucking asshole for forcing this situation. What kind of girl falls for three brothers and loves each of them so equally she would rather be alone than choose one?

  Zan just shook his head, cupping my face with his hand and pressing my forehead to his. "Luna, baby. Shut up and kiss me."

  A flutter of amusement travelled through me, and I cracked a half smile. "Such a romantic, Your Highness."

  "Only with you, Your Majesty," he replied with a wicked grin, then claimed that kiss. His lips met mine with that potent, possessive need he always kissed me with. Our breath merged and our tongues intertwined in a soul consuming dance that left the whole room spinning.

  When we parted, my blood-crusted fingers were threaded in his dark hair, and I took a long moment to just study his face. A face I’d thought I'd never see again.

  "How did you survive it?" I asked, my voice soft and pleading. I was still wracked with terror, thinking that any moment he'd disappear in a puff of magic and this whole thing would be some cruel hoax from Titus.

  Zan laid a gentle kiss on my cheek, then the tip of my nose, then on my lips. "I wasn't on the bridge when it collapsed."

  I frowned. "But I saw you. I saw you ride onto the bridge, then the next moment all the cables snapped and the whole thing came crashing down." But was that actually what I’d seen? The physical evidence that Zan was alive suggested otherwise. My eyes had been so clouded over with tears, and then there was that arrow that Sagen had saved me from...

  Zan shook his head, stroking my own grimy, tangled hair away from my face with gentle fingers. "I turned back. I’d barely made it a few steps onto the bridge, and I could feel your heart breaking. Or maybe it was mine. I don't know." He gave a small shrug. "It's becoming hard to differentiate."

  I blinked at him a couple of times, processing. "So... you weren't on the bridge when it collapsed?"

  "No, Luna. I was coming back to you. I was a fucking idiot for trying to force you to choose between us, especially when I can literally feel what you feel for them." Zan grimaced, and my mind flew back to that damn fuck-flower meadow when Ty and I had taken things that little bit further.

  I smoothed a hand over his chest, covering the place where his skin was permanently marked with my god-mark. Because not only was I the missing daughter of our murdered queen, I was also part god.

  Fuck, that was a lot to wrap my head around.

  I had so many more questions, though, but when I parted my lips to speak again, Zan silenced me with another toe-curling kiss.

  After a while, when my breath was short and my body was flushed with heat, I groaned and pushed him back a fraction of an inch.

  "Zan, are you trying to distract me with your lips? I have questions that need answers, and I need to tell you about Ty." I frowned, the lust draining out of me fast as I remembered Ty's bloody, pale form on that stretcher.

  My repentant lover grinned wickedly but didn't try to do it again. Instead he rolled slightly onto his back and ran a hand through his dark hair. Or, tried to. His fingers snagged on something, and he cringed.

  "I know about Ty," he assured me. "One of the ladies filled me in while you were passed out. As for the rest..." He sat up then, holding his hand out to me. "Is it anything that can't wait until after a shower?"

  His suggestion had me looking down at myself and grimacing. I was still wearing the full-skirted red gown that I'd been in before the madness began, but now it was torn, bloodied, and crusted with grime. I could only imagine what state my hair was in, but if my dress was any indication... yeah, I needed a shower.

  Accepting Zan's hand, I climbed out of the bed and wrinkled my nose at the dirty patch I'd left behind.

  "Uh yeah," I agreed, "it's been a long night."

  Zan chuckled a small laugh, walking with me to the attached bathroom, then cranking the shower taps. Once again, I thanked fate that this inn had retained its heated plumbing, despite all the other technological crashes in the years since Ophelia's murder. More than that, I sent a mental fuck you to Aana for almost ruining running water for me when she tried to drown me in a river.

  "I'll hunt down some fresh clothes," Zan murmured as steam filled the room.

  I raised a brow at him. "You're not joining me?"

  He did a bit of a double take, and I was mildly proud I'd managed to surprise him. When he said nothing, I turned around and swiped my gross, crusty hair aside for him to undo my zipper for me. Or, I hoped there was a zipper. Trusting my luck. that infuriating, nameless god could have just magicked me into a dress with no way out of it.

  Zan hesitated a moment longer, and I watched him in the foggy mirror as he stared at my back. Seconds later, right when I was feeling just a tiny bit embarrassed and rejected, his fingers stroked across my shoulder blade.

  Shockwaves of heat and magic zipped through me, and I was powerless to stop the groan that escaped my throat. He hadn't been staring at my dress. He'd been staring at my mark. The one my mother had left when she'd saved my life as a baby. Possibly the last thing she’d done before she died.

  Zan's eyes flicked up, his gaze meeting mine in the mirror and conveying a million thoughts without speaking a word. Instead of voicing them all, he helped me out of my dress, letting it drop to the floor around my feet.

  His gaze still held mine in the mirror, even as he stripped his own bloody clothes off, then pressed a light kiss to the bend of my neck.

  I shivered, biting my lip to keep from ruining the moment with my doubts and heavy guilt. Instead, I blinked and broke that intense stare. I stepped into the small shower cubicle and gasped as the scalding water met my cold flesh.

  He joined me, silently moving under the water and crowding me in the best possible way as he reached for the floral-scented soap on the ledge behind me.

  "Turn around," he murmured, and I complied.

  Slowly, lovingly, he ran soaped-up hands over my skin—not in an overtly sexual way, but the effect was the same nonetheless. By the time he was done lathering shampoo into my hair, I was a trembling mess.

  When I turned around again to face him and rinsed the soap from my hair under the steaming water, it was pretty clear I wasn't the only one so affected by our current situation.

  "Stop looking at me like that, Luna," Zan growled, gently switching places with me to wash his own hair. Soap suds and water ran down his hard, tanned chest, and I pressed my lips together to keep from salivating.

  "Like what?" I asked with faux innocence. I knew damn well what he’d meant, but I couldn't turn it off if I tried. Which, being honest, I didn't.

  Zan's eyes narrowed at me, and a mischievous smile pulled at his lips. "I'm warning you, if you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to have to do something about it."

  I just gave him a shrug and ran my tongue over my lips.

  Yeah, I was playing with fire, and I damn well knew it.

  "Gods," he muttered on a frustrated groan, then wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me to him so fast I lost my balance. Not that it mattered. He caught me as I fell into his body, lifting me up and spinning me until my back planted against the cold tiles of the shower wall. His lips were on mine already, a hot and hungry demand that I was all too eager to meet.

  My lips parted, and our tongues met while his hands slid down my wet body to clasp my ass.

  "I warned you not to call my bluff, Luna," he panted, pressing his forehead to mine while hot water cascaded over us. "You have no idea how badly I want you. No, need you."

  "I have an idea," I replied, my voice just as breathy as his. "Zan…" I uttered
his name like a prayer, bringing his lips back to mine and kissing him until I could barely take it any longer.

  Reaching down between us, I grasped his hard shaft and stroked it a couple of times. His lips froze against mine and his breath caught.

  My thumb circled his tip, feeling the slippery evidence of his arousal before it was washed away by the shower. Sliding my hand back down, I tightened my grip, and his hips jerked against me in response, which seemed to snap him out of the haze of arousal he'd fallen into.

  "Fuck, Luna," he groaned, sliding wet hands over my body, cupping my breasts just long enough to toy with my nipples until they were achingly hard, then continuing back down until he reached my aching core. "You're going to be the death of me, beautiful."

  His fingers slipped between my folds, stroking over my clit, then dipping teasingly inside my cunt before repeating.

  "Don't say that," I whispered, nipping at his lips with small kisses. "I already thought you died once today."

  This time he didn't tease, sliding his fingers deep inside and curving them to stroke over my G-spot, making me cry out. "I'm sorry, babe," he replied in a husky whisper of his own. "I'm so sorry."

  His lips met mine in another possessive kiss, and I hitched a leg up around his waist. As good as it felt to have him finger me, I wanted the real deal. Nope, I needed the real deal almost as badly as I needed air.

  Dramatic, sure, but that's how worked up I was.

  "It's forgiven," I assured him, tilting my hips and making it all too damn clear what I wanted from him. "Zan, please," I groaned when he didn't take my broad hint, and he chuckled in response.

  "Needy," he scolded but obligingly withdrew his fingers and replaced them with something a whole lot more filling. He sucked in a sharp breath as we joined together, and I fought to keep my whole body from turning to jelly.

  "Luna, dear gods," he groaned, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in slowly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can... I need to... Fuck, you feel incredible."