Theirs Ever After

by Katee Robert

  No matter the case, Alys wasn’t one of the trusted few he’d allow his kingly facade to fall with. “Thank you, Alys. I’ll take care of it.” He hung up while she was still sputtering. Theo immediately called his head of security. “Isaac, find my Consort.”

  “Galen left a couple hours ago and boarded a chopper. The manifest is one you provided, so I’m assuming he’s not the Consort you’re talking about.”

  Theo closed his eyes and strove for patience, but there was none to be had. His mind kept up a chant of find Meg, find Meg, find Meg until there was no room for anything else. “Find Meg. Now.”

  “Working on it.” Clattering in the background as Isaac works his magic on his computer. “Last seen heading into the west wing.”

  He opened his eyes. “The west wing is where the Families keep their suites.”

  “Yep.” More clicking. “She’s headed either in Huxley or Popov’s direction. They both branch out of that particular hallway.”

  She’d had breakfast with Noemi Huxley this morning. Theo pushed to his feet. “Meet me there. Be discreet.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Popov was a problem. He didn’t think Lord Popov and his trio of sons were in the palace currently, but they had a habit of coming and going unexpectedly. None of them were particularly happy to see him on the throne, not when they’d been vocal supporters of Theo’s uncle—and little brother. He didn’t think Popov had the stomach for murder and abduction, but Theo wouldn’t bet Meg’s life on it.

  Huxley? Huxley was a danger in an entirely different way. The man was a panicked beast, knowing the end was coming and fighting with everything he had to stay ahead of his fate. Theo would have guessed he was too concerned with outmaneuvering his daughter’s ambitions to make a play for the throne, but stranger things had happened.

  Noemi? Once upon a time, Theo and Noemi had been good enough friends that both their parents looked into the future and saw wedding bells, but it had never been like that between them. She was one of the few girls—and then women—whom he didn’t need to pretend with. She’d always had her sights set on being the first female Head of Huxley Family, and marrying Theo would fuck that up. Considering he saw her as something between a sister and a friend, they were on the same page about their lack of shared future even back then.

  Even if they hadn’t been, he had found something he’d never dared to even dream of.

  Happiness. Out in the open.

  Granted, they were hardly living their perfect life at the moment, but they would get there. He’d ensure it.

  Theo didn’t quite run to the west wing, but he moved with a purpose that drove people out of his way, birds fleeing a coming storm. With each minute that passed, his mind helpfully supplied all the horrible things Meg could be experiencing. He’d thought they were safe for the next couple days, that the would-be assassin wouldn’t strike again so soon.

  Had he misjudged the situation again? The price of mistakes was too damn high right now.

  Isaac Kozlov stepped out of a recessed door as Theo approached the hallway Meg had last been seen in. He was a giant bear of a man, big enough to make even Galen look small, and the wicked scar that wrapped his throat only made him more imposing. People didn’t mess with Isaac unless they had no other option. Add into the mix that his technical skills made him the best head of security Theo had ever worked with and he was a force to be reckoned with.

  None of that would help them now if something had happened to Meg.

  Isaac fell into step next to him. “The only Huxley in the palace right now is Noemi. She wouldn’t have done anything to the Consort.”

  Theo chose not to comment on that. It was obvious to anyone who paid attention that Isaac and Noemi had a history, but they weren’t public about it and he did his best to respect that. Usually. There was nothing usual about their current circumstance. “All the same, we check Huxley.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” His tight tone spoke of his displeasure over the order, but Isaac knew better than to argue.

  They took the turn as one and headed for the Huxley suites. Years ago, the Families had thrown a collective fit about cameras in their wing of the palace. They claimed they were more than capable of protecting themselves, and effectively removed any responsibility for the palace to offer security. Theo’s father had thought it a fair compromise at the time, but then neither Theo’s mother nor his step-mother had ever disappeared into the west wing when her life was under threat. He regretted his father’s capitulation now.

  Theo reached for the door, but Isaac beat him there. He shot a look over his shoulder. “I got it.” He banged on the door with a giant fist, the sound echoing down the hallway.

  Ten seconds later—Theo counted—the door swung open and Noemi Huxley smiled at them. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her less than perfectly put together, and this instance was no exception. Her long blond hair was pulled back from her face and she wore a vivid blue dress that set off her eyes.

  Her gaze landed on Isaac first and a small line appeared between her brows. “Isaac?” The barest second, the truth lay in the air between the three of them, and then she’d recovered and her practiced smile was firmly in place. She turned pointedly to Theo, effectively dismissing Isaac. “Your Majesty. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for my Consort.”

  Her smile didn’t flicker. “According to my father, the Consort is scheduled to visit our family home in the near future.”

  He liked Noemi well enough, but if she wanted to play games with Meg’s life, he’d flatten her the same way he would an enemy. “Don’t toy with me, Noemi. You know exactly which Consort I’m looking for.”

  “Yes, I know exactly which Consort you’re looking for.” She propped a hand on her hip. “The Consort is disinclined to see you at the moment.”

  Theo blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I do believe you heard me. Meg needed a break from all… this.” She flicked her bright red nails at him. “I sent one of my people to distract Alys and Meg made her escape. I mean, really, Theo. How could you not know how close to breaking she is?”

  He’d known. Of course he’d known. All three of them were a hair’s breadth from fracturing, and the added pressure that came from their current threat level didn’t help matters. That being said, he wasn’t about to trust Noemi’s word that Meg was safe. “Then it’s obviously time for she and I to have a conversation.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Isaac moved, stepping easily between them, his big back blocking Theo’s view of the infuriating woman. “If the Consort doesn’t want to see the King, then I’ll ensure she’s good.”

  A long pause, and Theo couldn’t see their faces to know what passed between them. Finally, Noemi sighed. “I know a losing battle when I see one. Fine, Isaac. Talk to the Consort. And then you both will go.” Another pause, shorter this time. “When she’s ready to leave my room, I’ll send for an escort.”

  When Theo had put together his plan, he hadn’t anticipated on Meg reacting this way. She’d promised to give him a few days, but apparently that didn’t mean she was going to sit quietly in the meantime. If he hadn’t been so distracted, he would have known this was coming. Meg was never one to play damsel in distress, and she reacted to being hurt by coming back swinging. It was an impulse she’d wrestled mostly into submission in her time spent in Thalania, but the scare on the stairs would eliminate all the control.

  Damn it, Theo really should have known better.

  Meg drank her tea and listened to Noemi rip Theo a new one in the politest way possible. She made a few mental notes to use in the inevitable arguments she’d have in the future. Yelling her fool head off felt good sometimes, especially when Theo got particularly stubborn, but if she could get him to sputter the way Noemi had, that would be immensely satisfying. And worth the bottling up of her anger.

  She wasn’t angry now.

  She took another sip
of her tea. Okay, she could be truthful with herself, if with no one else. She was freaking pissed. It wasn’t Theo’s fault that she was hurt, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that she was angry and scared and lashing out.

  It was, however, his fault that he’d decided to take matters into his own hands and plan something and just expect her to keep going through the motions while he schemed. He’d told Galen what he intended—Galen was playing the part of minion in whatever it was, after all—but he’d left Meg out in the dark. Again.

  Kind of difficult to consider herself a full partner in their little trio when the men shuttled her off to safety at the first sign of trouble, and didn’t freaking talk to her about how they were going to deal with it.

  So, yeah, Meg was feeling petty and pissed and not in the least inclined to slow Noemi’s little power play at the door.

  Heels clicked on the tile and then the woman walked back into the room. If Meg hadn’t already suspected there was something going on with Isaac and Noemi, she would have known it for truth in the blonde’s stiff shoulders and tight mouth. She flicked a hand in Isaac’s direction. “As you can see, she’s hardly tied up and helpless.”

  “I see.” There was a wealth of knowledge in those two words that didn’t fit the situation. It would have been extremely uncomfortable, but he didn’t aim it at Meg.

  No, it was all for Noemi.

  She marched to the brandy decanter situated in the corner of the room and splashed a healthy dose into a tumbler. “Run back to Theodore, Isaac. It’s what you’re good at.”

  Meg blinked. Oh shit, they were really going to do this in front of her. She cast a glance at the door. Maybe it wasn’t too late to bolt. She could have her knock down drag out fight with Theo here and now. It was sooner than she wanted to, but at least she wouldn’t have to sit as uncomfortable witness to… whatever was happening here.

  Isaac turned away from Noemi and focused those cool blue eyes on Meg. “You’re well, Consort?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She might have issues with Theo currently, but she wasn’t about to take them out on his head of security. Isaac had scared the shit out of her once upon a time, but she’d grown to depend on him in the intervening time. He played an instrumental part of keeping them safe.

  He failed yesterday.

  That wasn’t his fault.

  Apparently no one had told that to Isaac, though. He went down on one knee in front of her, his height meaning they were nearly eye to eye. “I’m sorry, Consort. I assumed the security within the palace would be enough to deter anyone who was up to no good, and I was wrong. You shouldn’t have been hurt.” His gaze traced the bruise on her face, as if in penance.

  There were so many things she could say in response, but none of them would help. He’d decided it was his fault, and he’d go over the top to protect her moving forward so that he wouldn’t fail again. Meg took a careful breath. “You’re forgiven, Isaac.”

  “Not now. Not yet.” But he pushed to his feet and gave her a deep bow that he usually reserved for Theo. “Please text me when you’re leaving the Huxley suites so I can arrange an escort.”

  For all his guilt, she knew better than to push on this subject. If she did, he’d no doubt send someone to lurk outside Noemi’s door to ensure Meg didn’t slip away. Since she had no intention of slipping away—or being attacked again—she nodded. “I’m not going to rush around acting like an idiot just because I’m pissed at Theo.”

  He opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider what he was going to say, and finally nodded. “Thank you, Consort.” He cast a glancing look at Noemi, but she was still putting entirely too much focus on the brandy. Finally, Isaac nodded again and walked out of the room.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, Noemi took a shuddering breath and downed the entire glass of brandy. “God, that never gets any easier.”

  To ask or not to ask?

  Really, it wasn’t even a question. “What’s going on with you two? There was enough tension in the room to cut it with a knife.” Meg’s people reading skills might be a little rusty, but even so she could see that there was history there. A whole lot of history.

  “It’s complicated.” Noemi poured herself another glass and seemed to realize that she was doing a poor job of keeping her game face on. She walked back to the couch Meg sat on and perched on the other side. “If I was a different person, maybe there’d be a happy ending there, but…” She waved a hand at the suite. “I’m a Huxley. I can’t leave my Family in the hands of my cousin, because he’ll drive both our business and influence into the ground inside of five years. I’m the only one who can step into my father’s role, and I already have things stacked against me without…” Another hand wave.

  Simple enough to fill in the blanks. “Without falling for the hired help.”

  Noemi made a face. “That’s a crude way of putting it. Isaac is more than the hired help. But no one else will see it that way, and my Family certainly won’t. They won’t follow me if I’m with him.” She downed her second glass of brandy without a wince. “I have a duty, for better or worse. What is my happiness compared to the future of the Huxleys?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that.” Theo had found a way around that very conundrum, but Theo was the King of Thalania, and his choice of naming two Consorts had made waves that they were still fighting their way through. Having both Meg and Galen at his side meant that his transition to take the throne was a rocky one at best, and that Families that would have given him their unconditional support now threw that choice into question.

  Meg carefully slumped back against the couch. Her shoulder still ached something fierce and her headache would probably be with her until the day she died, but she was relatively free for the first time in six months. Her first day that wasn’t scheduled out the ass and she wanted… “Do you like movies?”

  Noemi raised her brows. “Are there people who exist who don’t like movies?”

  “Probably.” Meg laughed. God, it felt good to laugh, to just…be. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”

  Noemi perked up a little. “Are you suggesting a movie marathon?” She gave a brilliant smile. “I could order in junk food. I know they have it in the kitchens because Isaac—” She broke off and her expression clouded over for a few seconds before she shook her head. “Regardless, the kitchens keep a secret stock of junk food and I’m sure I could convince them to send us down some.”

  “That sounds like heaven.” And it would serve the dual purpose of putting Theo in his place without Meg acting too stupid to live by running off to prove a point.

  She couldn’t pretend that was the only reason she wanted to hole up here. Every time she let her thoughts still, the imprint of the hands that shoved her down the stairs pressed against her back. Even knowing it was only a phantom of a memory did nothing to change the panic that fluttered in her throat at the memory.

  She could have died.

  She would have if the person who pushed her had their way.

  What was more, Meg knew the thing Theo and Galen had very carefully not said since the attack. Whoever wanted her dead wasn’t going to slink into the night just because they were foiled this time. They’d try again. They might be plotting to do exactly that right now. She shivered.

  “Meg?”

  Meg dredged up a half smile. “Sorry, just thinking dark thoughts.”

  Noemi’s blue eyes went sympathetic. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, not really.” She looked past the woman to the hall leading deeper into the suite. “I was serious about the movies if you were serious about the junk food.” When Noemi didn’t immediately move, Meg sighed. “I am freaked out. I’m trying very hard not to be, but I am, and I’m pissed at my men, but that’s an entirely different issue. I’ll have to talk this to death with them later after the little stunt we just pulled, and that’s fine, but I really just want to hang out and not be Consort for a little while.”

  Noemi finally nodded
. “How about this? Today you’re not Consort, and I’m not a Huxley. We’re just Noemi and Meg.”

  “Sounds like heaven.”

  “Good. You pick the movie. I’ll call down to the kitchen.”

  8

  A trip that was supposed to take two days instead took fucking ten. When he was twenty-six, Galen had done this tour as head of security, and he’d managed it in thirty-six hours. Speak with the Head of Family, get the information he needed, get out. Apparently that wasn’t an option as Consort. When he walked through Family Vann’s door, they must have started a phone tree, because every other Family anticipated his arrival and drew it out. They insisted on wining and dining him, on dodging his questions, on grilling him about policies Theo was considering. Oh, they wouldn’t call it anything as harsh as grilling. Questioning, polite and persistent, until he wanted to start smashing things. To make things even more complicated, the Families that had made snide comments about him being a traitor’s son when he was sixteen now practically bowed and scraped to avoid pissing him off.

  He shouldn’t have liked it.

  Power was never Galen’s goal.

  Safety and stability, yes. Power, no.

  His helicopter landed just outside Huxley Manor, kicking up wind strong enough to stagger the party of waiting people. Huxley himself numbered among them, which made Galen’s job that much easier. He clasped the pilot on the shoulder. “We have enough fuel to get back to the Ranei?” The capital city was only an hour away by air.

  “We refueled this morning before leaving Lady Nibley’s residence. We’re good to go when you are.”

  “Don’t wander. This won’t be a long visit.” Theo kept assuring him that things were under control at the palace, but the thread in his voice made a liar out of him. Something was going on, and he didn’t want Galen to know about it. Since this chore had to be done, Galen swallowed down his need to fly immediately back to the palace and did his duty.

  That didn’t mean he was going to let Lord fucking Huxley slow him up. Ten days was eight days too long, and he was finished with this goddamn chore.