I am gross to her. The fae pride themselves on cleanliness and beauty. I don’t have time for things like tha. I look how I do, and nothing’s going to change tha. Besides, animals don’t need to bathe as often as the other species. On top of which, we can’t spare the water to bathe in the first place. Of course I’m unpolished. She’s perfect and stunning, and I’m all the things she wouldn’t go near if we hadn’t forced her to. She’s a sweet lass, is all, rubbing my arm like tha when I stopped halfway up our climb. She felt sorry for me. But I haven’t been able to calm myself down enough to sleep for more than an hour at a time. I keep waking to check on her, and then sniff out any trace of predators. Then I tortured myself by studying the way her arm bands around Alex’s chest.
She shivers in her sleep. The fae are more delicate when it comes to things like tha. Alex is always wearing a sweater under his cloak when he travels, holding his body as if he’s walked into a giant snowball. Halfway through the day, I draped my army shirt over her shoulder, warming her as best I could without scaring her. Though, she’s probably going to be disgusted at having something tha’s been on me resting atop her when she wakes. Still, I risk her displeasure if it keeps her from freezing over.
Alex took her hair down. I’ve never seen it like tha. It’s always up and out of her face. But this is pure torture. Every now and then, Alex reaches for her lavender locks in his sleep, combing his fingers through them and unleashing her scent into the air just to torment me. My nose is filled with too much of her, but it’s still not enough. He kisses her forehead in his sleep, too. It’s like his body can’t help but be near her.
I know the feeling.
She touched my lip. For a second, I saw myself kissing her, but of course she only touched me to get dirt off my lip. Tha was humiliating. She probably also was trying to feel how sharp my fangs are. She wants to make sure I’m not going to attack her. She’s new to us, feeling us out and figuring how she fits into this mix.
She fits perfectly in Alex’s arms.
She laughs at Des’ stupid jokes.
I’ve been in love with this fair lass for five years, and I disgust her. I’m not sure I ever expected it to be different, but seeing the confirmation in her eyes and hearing it in her voice is a new low. Still, I keep my spot at the edge of the cave, making sure nothing gets in tha might harm her.
I’ve never been allowed to watch her sleep before. She’s so vulnerable, her throat exposed as her chin is angled to the side. Her hair is impractically long—nearly down to the middle of her back, as if she’s been growing it out just to twist me up inside. She doesn’t want my dirty fingers in her hair, but they itch to bury themselves in the softness all the same. My entire life has been devoid of softness, and there it is, just out of reach.
She stirs, and I close my eyes to feign sleep as best I can. Her movements rouse Alex, and I hear him kiss her while they wake. Did he kiss her lips? Her forehead for the hundredth time? Her cheek? Her hand? Her hands are buttery soft. Tha much, I know.
“Rise and shine, boys,” Alex calls through the cave when he finally gets ahold of his gob long enough to stop kissing her. “The sun’s almost set. Let’s eat and then we can go. I want to make sure we reach the castle in Drexdenberg before sunrise.”
I pretend I’ve been asleep this entire time and make a show of stretching out and shaking my fur. There are too many things to think about in regards to our journey. We’ve traveled to each other’s palaces before. It’s customary to keep up the appearances tha the monarchies are capable of getting along, even though tha’s never been the case. The threat of attack is always there. I never cared much before, but Lily’s going to be traveling with us now. If a bunch of thieving vampires got their hands on her…
I shudder and change into my man form. “Are we traveling on foot?”
Des shrugs as he fishes around in the hole in the back of the cave for his blood stash. “As soon as we cross over into Drexdenberg, I’ll call for a carriage. No need to make things unnecessarily complicated. Plus, we’ve got good news to herald. I’m getting married.” He tosses up a sleepy grin before glugging his drink.
“Got married,” Alex corrects him. “Do you like galeberries?” he asks Lily.
She scrunches her nose. “I’m not sure I’ve had any before. But at this point, I’ll try anything.”
Alex rubs his palms together and sprouts a sprig that stretches four inches before he pauses and blows on the twigs so they can bud and bloom. “Never tried galeberries? That needs to be rectified. Here. Have some. I can teach you how to sprout them. They’re the simplest ones, but you shouldn’t allow that to detract from how good they taste.”
This odd expression falls over her face like a veil, but her words come out friendly enough. “Thanks for sharing. I am pretty hungry.”
He picks them off the vines and plops them into her palm one by one, then smashes the plant to bits to start fresh. “Rub your hands together, much like how you do when you’re conjuring up a hopper bush.”
Her smile is hollow and forced, and I hate it. I’d rather she be honest with her face. Every time she smiled at a customer in tha choked way she tried to pass off as natural, it tore at my stomach. And there it is, in our cave, polluting the air tha smells like her.
“I can’t. I don’t have any magic, Lexi.”
Alex’s nose scrunches. “I thought you were only telling us that to get us to leave you alone. You’re telling me that General Klein’s daughter doesn’t possess a lick of magic?”
She shrugs, as if the whole conversation bores her. “You can look up my primary school grades before I was killed off, if that helps you. I was failing every subject. General Klein kept everything quiet, but yeah. I’m stupid, and that’s the name of that tune.” She doesn’t even sound sad, but more matter-of-fact.
Alex and Des balk at her blatant assessment. They’re so stunned by her harsh words tha they can’t spot the lie.
I’ve been watching her lie to customers for years, so I know it when I see it. “That’s so funny!” and “I’ve never heard that one before,” call back into my mind with tha same bland smile she wears tha doesn’t touch her eyes.
Hannah has magic, alright. Though I’ve never seen evidence of it, I know it’s there. Whatever it is, she’s worked up enough about it to lie. Why would she lie to make herself look worse? Most do the opposite—pump up their accomplishments to make themselves appear more impressive. She’s hiding something, most likely linked to the other lie of her entire name. I can’t fault her for being pragmatic, but I also can’t pretend I don’t see it. It matters if Des is married to someone who’s got a big bomb of a secret tha could explode in his hands if he gets too near.
The three finish their breakfast while I wait. I know there’ll be plenty of game along the way for me to eat. I lean against the cave wall, my arms crossed over my chest while they enjoy their lively chatter. Hannah doesn’t do tha with me, the witty bantering. Probably because I’m no good at it. Then again, maybe it’s because she’s Lilya, and she’s never been Hannah.
Once she waves off the last berry, promising she’s too full to eat anymore, I kick my leg off the wall and move toward the mouth of the cave. I don’t need to tell them it’s time to go. The sun is just about set, and far down enough in the sky tha the beams have no chance at touching Des. When Lilya—not Hannah—speaks, her honey-soaked timid voice cuts straight through my heart. “Lexi, could you help me down the mountain?” Normally she speaks for herself without worry, but whenever she’s anxious about her request, it comes out to the tune of a wee mouse.
Of course she doesn’t want me to take her. I practically forced her to have to press her body to mine. She doesn’t want her breasts touching a filthy shifter. I pretend her words have no affect and step aside so I can help Des down instead.
“Sure, babe. I wouldn’t want my girlfriend tumbling down and getting hurt. Hop on, Lily-girl.”
Alex pretty much just peed all over her, calling her his gir
lfriend like tha. If Des minds, he doesn’t show it. Maybe his poker face is just as good as mine.
Her face is going to be pressed into Alex’s neck. I’ve never even come close to slipping on a mountainside before, but I nearly lost my grip every time her breath tickled my skin.
I shake my head at what a sick bastard I am. She was terrified of the height, and I was trying not to be visibly turned on. Best she goes down with Alex. I had my moment, indulged my imagination well enough. She’s Des’ husband, Alex’s girlfriend.
Helping Des down the mountain is a thousand times less enjoyable than feeling Lilya’s strong thighs coiled around my waist, but it certainly goes quicker, since I don’t have to pause to get my baser urges under control.
The very first second I can, I turn back into a wolf. People don’t generally care as much about your input when you’re an animal, which suits me far better than being put on the spot and possibly saying something stupid in front of her. When I’m certain she’s safe, I take off to hunt up some breakfast.
Mallarks are easy to catch but they taste rubbery, and they’re not as juicy as other birds. Still, it’s a meal. Even though it’s not as flavorful as a pigeon, it’s about the same size. It’s a hard balance for me, figuring out where to eat. I don’t want to stray too far from the group in case they’re attacked, but I also don’t want her to hear or see me eat in my wolf form. She’d be disgusted. I can picture her cringe now as I have blood and feathers peppering my snout. Alex will take her out for fine dining, which is how it should be. Des will have her meals prepared in the castle once they’re settled in. I’ll be the dog under the table, which never bothered me before, but it’s all I can think about now.
I rejoin them, and Lilya takes note of where I’m at. She’s quiet, interjecting clever remarks here and there, but her eyes always track my location whenever I move slightly ahead or behind. I’m making her nervous. She’s got Alex’s arm around her hips and her littlest finger hooked around Des’. They’re happy together, the three of them. For how wrong the sight looks, part of me feels settled when I take in the contented expressions on the lads’ faces.
I’ve got to get out of here.
11
A Carriage for Lilya
Salem
I decide on running ahead to secure transport for us. It’s only a mile up the road now, so I take the distance at a run, leaving them to their arrangement.
When I reach Drexdenberg, the usual scowls greet me from the soldiers at the borderline. I turn into my man form and hold up my fist to display my royal ring. “I require safe transport to the palace.”
There are four guarding the border, and none of them look the least bit intimidating to me. My guards are far more vicious, though, perhaps tha’s because shifters are naturally bigger. Still, I let them play their part, pretending the rules matter and I’m subject to them.
They bring around the smallest cart with a small red X painted on the back just above the rear right wheel. Real subtle. “Tha wouldn’t happen to be marked for your vandals, would it? I’d hate for things to get messy. And I require something covered, not an open carriage.”
“Getting awfully bossy, aren’t you?”
I don’t bother responding. I only hold their haughty gaze with a stare I’ve learned turns men’s legs into jelly and their strong wills into dough.
More grumbling, but they comply. It’s some variation of the same dance every time. Vampires drive me mad.
I take my time checking the coach for loose bolts or other markings that might flag down the lower rungs of society. “I need a blanket. Something thick.” Lilya gave back my army shirt that morning. I know she’s freezing, but she’s too new to the group to feel comfortable asking for anything.
When the others arrive, I catch Des’ eye, then get into the coach and wait, shifting into my wolf so she doesn’t feel the need to make conversation. Plus, I take up far less space like this. I’m too tall for everything in Drexdenberg, and too bulky for everything in Faveda.
The snot-nosed guards who gave me attitude bow respectfully when Des nears, but turn up their noses at Alex and Lilya. Another two carriages are summoned, so Des doesn’t have to lower his standards and travel with the likes of us.
“No, we’ll all go in one,” Des corrects them. Usually we don’t try to make a scene about things tha aren’t going to change a single person’s mind, but Des is just bold enough with tha ring on Lilya’s wedding finger to set a new standard.
It’s clear I’ve been given a second-rate carriage, because the guards hem and haw over Des traveling in something unfit for a royal. As if I’m not royal. As if Alexavier is a boot shiner.
As if Lilya isn’t a princess.
A princess. I still can’t believe we did this. As much as we want to shake up the world, generally the goal is to leave it in one piece. To finally make us one piece instead of three. This… this might do more harm than good for a while, making more broken bits before we figure out how to stitch them together.
The others step into the carriage, all traces of banter and levity gone. They’re silent, no doubt realizing, as I am, that this is about to get messy. Des could’ve introduced Lilya to the guards as his wife, but he chickened out. He’s got a ticking clock that’ll chime we reach the palace, and the truth will have to come out.
Alex spots the blanket on the bench and drapes it around Lilya’s shoulders. “There you are. The chattering of your teeth is distracting me from my rampant anxiety.”
“Thanks, Lexi. That’s real thoughtful.”
I look out the window, holding my breath to keep her from knowing it was me who was thoughtful. She might not take the blanket if she knows it’s from me. She’s never struck me as a snob like tha before, but I don’t want to push her. And if she truly is too good to travel with shifters, I don’t want to know it. I like my version of her.
Alex moves to take the seat beside her, but Des corrects him before I can give a snort of warning. The guys are pretty intuitive when it comes to my nonverbal cues. “You can’t sit beside her, Alex,” Des says quietly. “She’s supposed to be my wife. If we’re doing this thing, we have to go all in, yeah?”
It’s exactly five seconds after Des takes the spot beside her before Lilya’s hand darts out of her blanket so she can link her little finger to his. A smile takes the edge off his nerves, and his shoulders relax. Damn, tha’s powerful. They’ve known each other a day, and she’s already good for him. He tosses her a lopsided grin. “You’re in, honey dove. This is your new homeland.”
Lilya tilts her nose in the air and opens her mouth to protest the nickname. “Think again. Nothing with honey in it. That seems to be where you’re stuck.”
“Honey-plum?”
She blanches, and I love the honesty of it.
“Sweet-beet?”
“Ack!” She sticks out her tongue.
Alex’s voice cuts through the levity. “Blue eyes,” he suggests with a finality to his tone, looking toward the window instead of at her. “It’s indicative of the entire fae race. If you call her ‘blue eyes’, it’s like you’re saying you love the one thing about her that’s purely fae. It’s a statement you’re making to the world that you’re choosing a fae.”
Des runs his tongue over his top row of teeth, as if tasting the words on his tongue to see how they fit. “Blue eyes, eh? I quite like the sound of that. How about you, honeylips?” His fingers sift through hers. Mine would be way too fat to fit. Des is better for her.
Her cheeks pink, and I know we’ve stumbled onto the right path. “You can call me blue eyes. I wouldn’t mind that at all.” She bumps her shoulder to his. “What do you want to be? Sugarstalk?”
Des shivers. “That’s just dirty enough for me to insist you use it in front of Great-grandfather. Do it with a sly wink, and you’ll be despised for millennia as my tawdry tart of a wife.”
She gives an airy laugh. Leave it to Des to coax lightness out of a grim situation. He makes it look easy to draw a
smile out of her. He’s got tha way about him tha almost cracks me out of my stalwart nature.
Almost.
“How did we meet?” she asks, her eyes growing serious with a calculating edge to the blue. She’s stunning. It’s impossible to miss. I find it hard to glance at her and not stare like a creeper.
“I was frequenting a pub in Neutral Territory, which you just so happened to be waitressing at. You served me a drink, and I’ve not had the taste for anyone else since.”
Des lies so convincingly, I would swear he’s part fae.
“How long ago was that? It’s going to look like I put a spell on you to make you fall for me if we tell your parents we met last night.”
Des releases a humorless one-noted laugh into the air. “Mum and Dad will loathe you regardless because you love me. They loathe me, so anyone attaching their wagon to my horse is immediately foolish and not worth their time.”
She gapes up at him. “That’s awful! Tell me you’re joking.”
“A complete and utter joke, they are. But why make light of the macabre?” His eyes dart to hers. “To be fair, their duplicity is nothing to your father’s. Utter bastard, that one.” Des nods to acknowledge her trauma, and she inclines her head to him in return. “The one to be nervous around is Great-grandfather. He’s the one with the keys to the throne. He’s the one who trims the problem branches in the family tree. He’s a plotter, that one, and he keeps his cards tight to the vest. Maybe you’ll be lucky and he’ll treat you like he treats my parents and me—with tolerant disinterest. That’s what we’re aiming for. Tolerant disinterest from the great King Ronin.”
She swallows her nerves for the moment, but they tumble out of her mouth seconds later. “Why are you bringing me home? They’re going to hate me, and you’ll lose your chance to be king. Isn’t that what you want? To be king someday?”
Vengeful Prince Page 9
