Vengeful Prince

by Mary E. Twomey

  She lets out a one-noted laugh.

  I should’ve been the one offering her my cloak to warm up. Fae are always freezing outside their tropical climate in Faveda.

  King Ronin drapes his suit jacket over her shoulders, the yellow silk lining flashing in my vision against the moonlit sky. He even goes so far as to pull her hair out from being trapped in the collar.

  As if he can feel Alex and I gaping at him, he turns his chin over his shoulder. “If you treat her like a queen, she will believe she can become one.”

  “Knock it off,” she scolds him with a squint and a shake of her head. “That’s the poison talking.”

  “Away from the edge, Lily-Girl,” Alex says, motioning for her to join us.

  Insecurity washes over me until I see her bashful smile directed at us. Something in my chest lurches at the sight, and before I know it, I’m tugging her down between us, not caring that we aren’t alone. I need to kiss her, to remember she’s mine. Her palm gravitates to my chest, feeling the thumping promise that we’re in this together. The moment she’s situated between us, dressed in King Ronin’s suit jacket, my lips find hers just as the sun begins to rise. She sighs into my body, folding her legs through mine as if it’s been painful to be separated this long.

  I know the feeling.

  “I’m freaking out,” she admits in a whisper between kisses.

  “We can’t have that.” I kiss her again. “We won’t let anything happen to you. This plan will only continue down this path if you want it.”

  She kisses me over and over, and this time the tip of her tongue dances along one of my fangs. My lashes flutter as I bite back a groan. I’m holding back because we have an audience. Even though my great-grandfather is a few feet away, I’m acutely aware that he knows I’m inches from taking our kiss to new heights. When her fingers tuck themselves under my shirt so they can tickle along the horizon of my waist, it takes all my self-control not to tear her shirt in two.

  She breaks for a breath, but Alex gives her all of one inhale before he turns her toward him, kissing her so I can calm myself down. Her body arches for him against me. Each time he runs his palm from her cheek, over her shoulder and down to her thigh, her hips buck into mine like she can’t get enough. When his hand dips beneath her shirt, I gape at the inches of exposed flesh. Alex meets my eyes, his brows bouncing deviously with invitation to join in. My hand finds its way to her stomach, tracing her navel while she twists with too much desire.

  King Ronin’s throat clearing is the bucket of cold water we all need if we’re to have any hope of stopping. “Goodnight, children.”

  Alex kisses her a few more times as they deflate, his lazy smile clashing with her wanton, lidded look. Just when I think he’s going to hog her all night, he turns her onto her side, places her ringed hand atop my chest and curves his body around hers, resituating the suit jacket around her to shield her from the breeze. He even goes so far as tugging the edge of his cloak forward so it drapes over her hip. I do the same with mine, making sure she’s protected from the elements by us both.

  My breathing levels off, now that Lily’s hand is where it belongs. She even takes it one farther and hooks her knee overtop my thigh.

  Alex kisses the back of her shoulder, giving me a wink before he lays his head down.

  Maybe this is all going to blow up in our faces, but in this moment, all I can think is how very right this feels, and how content I am just like this.

  26

  Ring of Truth

  Lilya

  “Don’t call Fiora a healer. She hates that,” I warn the guys for Ronin’s benefit. “And don’t pretend you’re all perfectly fine, Ronin. She needs to know your symptoms, so don’t be prideful.”

  I lead us down the hall to the apartment that never felt small before. I mean, of course it was an adjustment when I was little, going from the General’s expansive house with tall ceilings to this, but there’s so much love and safety with Fiora that it never felt cramped. We belonged here, with each other.

  I turn the handle, moving slowly into the apartment so she doesn’t worry she’s being attacked. “Fiora? It’s me.”

  “Is it Hannah or Lilya?” she croaks from the kitchen nook.

  “Lilya,” I smile, coming further in so I can wrap my arms around her. Her cane is leaning against the stove, so I put it in her hand.

  There are more cobwebs than there should be. The dishes in the sink have started to stink, which makes me wonder how long they’ve been there. She’s got a bruise on her knee, and I know it’s because I wasn’t here to put all the furniture back to where it belongs at the end of each day, so she didn’t trip in her blindness.

  I swallow the guilt of abandoning her and start in on the dishes. “Fiora, I’ve brought some friends to see you.”

  She’s always moved slowly, but today it worries me. Maybe I’ve just been away too long. “Really? Is it your husband? Has he turned out to be a good man?”

  “One of the very best,” I assure her, my eyes flicking to Des, whose chest puffs with pride. “I brought Lexi, too. And my husband’s great-grandfather. This is King Ronin.”

  Fiora gasps, which isn’t a thing she often does. Hardly anything surprises that old broad. “King Ronin? Forgive me.” Then she struggles to kneel, which is a sight that turns my stomach.

  I drop the dishes and dart toward her, so I can pull her back up to standing. “You don’t need to kneel, Fiora. You’re elderly. Ronin wouldn’t hear of making someone kneel who’s got bad knees.”

  Though, when my eyes flick to Ronin, I can see he has absolutely no qualms about enforcing such a practice.

  I straighten in time with Fiora. “Ronin cares about others too much to ask them to do something painful just so he can feel like a big man.” If I say it enough, perhaps it’ll ring true one of these days. I meet his eyes with a challenge to behave.

  “Of course, Lady Fiora. I wouldn’t dream of it. You are a shifter, then? What is your animal?” Ronin narrows his eyes at me, but keeps his tone congenial.

  I sit her back in her chair and return to the dishes.

  Fiora smiles, revealing no teeth. “I haven’t shifted in decades. Blindness isn’t nearly as fun for animals as it is for people.” After a few brief introductions, she cuts to the chase before I can tell her why we’ve come. “Where’s your ring, sweetie?”

  “On my finger, right where you put it.”

  “Good, good. Leave those dishes and come here. Give me your hand. If these are the men you’re staying with, ye should know what you’re getting yourself into. The ring’s had enough time to adjust to ye. Let’s see how useful it can be.” After I dry off my hands, I go to her. She brings my knuckles to her lips and murmurs over them in a language I’ve never had an ear for.

  A fizzle starts at my finger and simmers through my hand. “Fiora? What’s happening?”

  She doesn’t look concerned, so I try not to let worry overtake me. “The ring is alive now. Magic is what ye make of it. I knew you’d make much of this magic.”

  I examine the stone. “What are you saying?”

  “I didn’t want it to reject ye, so I waited until ye two had time to acclimate. It will speak to ye now, if ye can learn to let it.”

  “What?”

  Then she takes my left hand and presses it to Lexi’s chest. She leans forward, inhaling deep while Lexi shoots me a wary look. “Breathe deep, lass.”

  I obey, because I’m her good daughter. The moment I do, warmth trickles into my hand. My fingers stretch out over Lexi’s sternum, as if they truly want to enjoy their time near his heart. There’s a dancing chill that seems to spin in ribbons across my palm, but it doesn’t cast out the warmth completely. “What is this?”

  Fiora smiles at my question. “This one has many secrets, like a typical fae. But a good heart. Ye can trust him.”

  “Glad I passed your test,” Lexi says wryly, rubbing his sternum once Fiora moves my hand to Ronin’s chest.

  It’s a
wkward, standing like this before him. He’s half a foot taller than me, but his presence makes him seem infinitely bigger.

  “What is it you’re doing now?” Ronin inquires.

  “Do ye see this lass?” Fiora says.

  Ronin’s eyes lock in on mine, saying things I don’t understand. “I do.”

  “She was mine long before any of ye claimed her. I want to make sure she’s in good hands. This ring tells me who I can trust. Lilya doesn’t know how to use its power yet, but once she does, it will prove a useful tool. Now, breathe in deep, sweetie. Clear your mind and close your eyes. Sight can be such a distraction.”

  I obey as best I can, trying not to feel Lexi, Des and Ronin watching my every move. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “Ye will. Patience. Deep breaths.” Fiora places her hand atop mine, her gnarled fingers sweeping over the lavender gemstone.

  This is the opposite of what I felt with Lexi. This time it’s cold on my hand with traces of heat dancing in ribbons along my palm. Though my hand doesn’t naturally sink into Ronin’s sternum at first, after a few beats, my fingers relax there, and I find I don’t mind the cold.

  When Fiora speaks, her voice is grave. “Oh, my. This… This one has many secrets. Many hurts. Hurts he uses to scar others. He’s scared of something. Maybe too many somethings.” She moves my hand around until I can feel the thrum of Ronin’s heart. “There’s a darkness here. Something grim I’m not even sure the fae light can penetrate.” She removes her hand and shakes it out, as if touching something too sticky and strange for her liking.

  Ronin’s jaw tightens so much that I watch the muscles tick. “When one’s lived as long as I have, there’s a great deal more darkness to sift through. Lifetimes of secrets to keep. This ring is shortsighted.”

  I tilt my chin up to meet Ronin’s hard gaze. “Do you have too many secrets?” I ask quietly, as if it’s only us in the room.

  Though I can tell he wants to argue, Ronin swallows hard before opening his mouth. “Yes.” Just like that, the fleeting heat spreads out. Instinctually, I know my ring is seeking out the truth, flaring with warmth when honestly bubbles out of him, and going cold when he retreats back into his secretive ways.

  The ring squeezes around my finger. It’s not painful, but a pressure that needs me to listen to it. “Is there true darkness in you?” The moment I ask him, the tightness of the white gold band loosens.

  Again, he waits before answering, and I watch as the steel in his golden eyes starts to melt like precious metal under the heat of fire. “Yes,” he admits in a whisper.

  I can feel his heart racing at exposing his vulnerable side. His breath touches my lashes, and I wonder if I should back up. Are we standing too close?

  I don’t want to ask, but I know I have to. I want to understand this ring, and this enigma of a man. I can’t meet his eyes any longer, though. Instead, I lower my chin and lean up on my toes so my whisper stays between us, as much as it’s able. He dips his head lower, and suddenly the air is rife with intimacy we’ve manufactured out of thin air. “Are you scared, Ronin?”

  He closes his eyes, his hand raising to slide overtop mine. “Yes.”

  Again, the ribbons of heat spread until they’re fat streaks that don’t fade back into thinner shapes. They stay like that—like he has truth in him, but he needs someone to draw it out.

  My lips move, but my whisper is so quiet, I’m not sure he can hear me. “What are you afraid of?”

  He manages half a smirk. “You first. What are you afraid of, darling?”

  I could pick a million things. I could lie and choose nothing. Instead, I reach for the truth, though I couldn’t tell you why. “My father. If he finds out I’m alive, he’ll murder me for good this time.”

  Ronin grips my hand tight. “What? Who is he? I’ll get to the bottom of it for you.”

  “Your turn,” I insist, cutting off his questions. “What are you afraid of?”

  I don’t expect him to answer, especially not with so many witnesses. My breath stills when his other hand moves behind me to press my forehead into his shoulder. He fists my curls so he has something to hold on to when the world threatens to tip him over. His lips move to my earlobe, and though there are many listening ears, I’m certain I’m the only one who hears his confession. “Me. I am what I’m most afraid of.”

  The moment his confession hits the air, honey-like heat coats my palm, fusing my hand to his chest. My ring hums this contented sound that vibrates only through me, melding us together while he traipses over unfamiliar ground.

  He rests his jaw against my temple, holding me tight as if he’s convinced I’m the only thing that can keep him from going mad on the spot. He’s afraid of his truth, of himself, so I stay in his arms to remind us both that he’s not the unfeeling monster he’s tried to convince the world he must be.

  I slide my thumb over his heart, wondering when the last time was that this man was hugged. “I am not afraid of you. You’re safe here. You’re safe with us.”

  His fist tightens on my curls before he plants a kiss to my cheek. I don’t think he’s kissed anyone in a very long time, but his lips press hard into my skin, like he needs me to remain exactly where I’m at so he doesn’t run from his moment of vulnerability. From himself.

  Then he releases me, stepping back as if he doesn’t understand his own actions.

  Alex and Des are dumbstruck, eyes wide as saucers.

  Fiora clears her throat. It’s not often she’s nervous, but having the King of Drexdenberg in her apartment is enough to make her voice quiver. “Grand. Now the husband.” She takes my trembling hand and hovers it over Des’ sternum.

  I bite down on my lower lip, hoping my connection with my husband isn’t quite so confusing.

  27

  Sharing My Mattress with Ronin

  Lilya

  I’m flustered, but do my best to breathe deep to cleanse my brain of Ronin so my ring can focus on Des.

  Without knowing why, a contented sigh escapes my lips the same time it does Fiora’s. “Ah. Tha’s what it should feel like. This ring will always seek out the truth, and this boy has few lies to him. Any untruths tha stick to his tongue are born of a good heart. Your ring wants to be near truth, so it will feel best right here, where it belongs.”

  Her words feel more permanent than our marriage vows. I know Des is a good man, but to have it confirmed like this makes everything that much simpler. The honey it took me several tries to seek out in Ronin and Lexi is readily available for me here. My hand relaxes, as does a baser part of me that feels banged around by too much life. “No wonder I sleep best when my hand is right here.”

  “Truth brings rest to the soul,” Fiora explains, patting my shoulder. “When ye feel anxious, press the ring right here. It will calm ye. He will calm ye, as a good spouse should.” Then she pats Des’ shoulder. “Ye will calm each other.”

  “I love you,” I mouth to him.

  Des’ smile has layers to it—confusion, acceptance and adoration. “I trust you,” he adds.

  That declaration means more to me than even love. Fae are always mistrusted, and not for bad reasons. That he loves me and trusts me? I can’t think of anything better.

  Des has the best grin, like he truly feels happiness and is good at unearthing the giggly secrets of life most people miss out on. When he smiles, he’s eternal, and I can’t help but be grateful I get to witness such an incredible sight.

  “You’re not hiding your fangs anymore,” I say aloud by mistake. I grimace and try to recover when his smile fades to that closed-mouth one he sometimes gives when he’s self-conscious. “Don’t do that. I like your normal smile. I like you.”

  Insecurity flashes in his eyes. “I don’t want to scare you.”

  It’s then that his words find their way to my lips. “I trust you.” Then I lean up on my toes to give him a quick kiss, which erases the worry around the edges of his eyes.

  Ronin rubs his forehead, and I’m immediat
ely brought back to our reason for coming. “Fiora, Ronin’s been poisoned. I need your help getting it out of him. That’s why we’re here.”

  “Vallerous root,” she comments sagely. Then before I can ask how she knew, she points in Ronin’s direction. “There’s a faint aroma of it in his exhale. It’s a powerful toxin, to be sure.” She angles her chin toward Ronin. “If magic is what ye make of it, then I’m sorry to tell ye, but someone intends to make a mess of your life with the magic at their disposal. I’d be cautious, if I were ye.”

  “If you knew, why didn’t you say something the very moment I came in?” Ronin asks, mild irritation sharpening his words.

  A touch of wickedness curves the corners of Fiora’s wrinkled lips. “I didn’t know if my Lilya wanted ye healed or not. If ye were worth saving or not. If ye were angry she sneaked her way into your lineage, I’m not exactly going to make your life easier. I wanted the ring to decide if there was enough goodness in ye to warrant saving. What say ye, lass?”

  Ronin balks at her. “You’d really leave a decision like that up to a piece of jewelry?”

  I cast Fiora a wry grin. “Just for kicks, let’s help the head of Drexdenberg keep his mind a little while longer.”

  “If ye insist. Have the headaches started?”

  A sliver of worry works its way onto Ronin’s features. “Yes. Four months ago.”

  Fiora grimaces, and unease grows in my belly. “Quick, then. Lie down, your majesty.”

  I lean over to straighten the brown, patched comforter and motion to the mattress on the floor.

  Ronin’s face pulls with disgust. “I cannot lay on that.”

  “Hello, you laid on the floor of the cave easily enough.”

  “This is…” He sighs heavily. “I hope you’re getting all the laughs you anticipated out of this. I do not intend on repeating it.”

  “Lads, you’ll need to hold his arms down,” Fiora instructs. Before Ronin can get worked up, she adds, “It’s deep in ye, your majesty. We can do it the less painful way, if ye like, but tha could take days. As the poison has nearly reached your brain, I think it’s wise to make ye uncomfortable if it’ll get ye well sooner. But in the end, it’s your choice.”