My dreams are anything but restful. As soon as I close my eyes, the song of betrayal starts anew. Ryland’s, my mother’s, my own… I see Aspen’s eyes, full of pain and rage before he turns away from me forever. I hear the crackling flames of the village consumed and the beat of paws descending on it in pursuit of me.
I’ve overcome so much, but it’s all come at such a great cost. Not only am I unsure of where this is all going, but sometimes I feel like I found myself only to lose her again.
A strong hand cups my cheek and cool lips press against my flushed forehead. The touch soothes me at once and I roll over with a sigh of relief, and into a hard wall of muscle. James’ scent envelops me and when I open my eyes, I realize he’s chased all the nightmares away.
“James,” I murmur drowsily, looking up at him. He’s not wearing the clothes he was before, but he’s dressed and his hair is wet, like he just showered. I know he’s not feeding from live donors, but rather from the blood collected from them. In the Capital, the donors actually participate on a voluntary basis, rather than the poor souls in Tarka. Humans are allowed to live their lives as they choose, I’ve learned, and while they can go anywhere, most choose to live within the city’s protective walls under Albien’s care.
“Hey,” he says, stroking my side as he settles in beside me. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Nothing,” I say, yawning. “And everything.”
He gives me a knowing look. This isn’t the first time he’s woken me from a nightmare, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. That is, if he still wants to share a bed with me after hearing what I have to tell him.
I’ve already promised myself that if James is upset, we’ll run away. I’ll find a way to stop Ryland without the protection of the royal army. I’d do anything to reassure him of what he means to me. To avoid becoming just another person who makes him feel less than.
“Your brother said you might be in need of comforting.”
My heart surges. “You spoke with Albien?”
“Briefly. I met him in the hall.”
“Oh.”
James watches me, and I can tell he’s waiting for something. Does he know? Albien would never tell him without my permission, I know that, but what if one of the servants did?
“James,” I begin, deciding I should come out with it so he doesn’t think I’m keeping secrets. I sit up, taking his hand in my lap. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“The Pentarch won’t allow me to court you officially,” he says calmly, without a trace of the anger or hurt I expected. “I know.”
“You know?” I choke out. “Then Albien—”
“He didn’t say anything,” he assures me, squeezing my hand. As if I deserve any comfort. “But I’ve been here long enough to know the way things work.”
Of course he has. Unlike Rowan and Christopher, who spend most of their time fighting, James has been watching and observing. He’s the only one Jenna graduated from training immediately, since he’s able to keep a cool head in battle. A trait most Marok wolves lack, no matter how powerful.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, deeply ashamed.
“Don’t be. I never expected they would let me take you as my mate in any official capacity.”
“You didn’t?” I ask in disbelief. This is news to me.
“You’ve always been out of my league, Dani,” he says with a wry, self-loathing smile. “Marok omega or crown princess, that’s never changed.”
“That’s not true!”
“You can deny it all you want, but the Pentarch aren’t going to change their minds,” he says firmly. “I’ve already made my peace with it.”
“You know what this means. I would have to start courting them again,” I protest.
He shrugs. “So it would be like before.”
“How can you be okay with this?” I ask, standing.
“I’m not, but the alternative is abdicating your throne, and I’m not going to let you do that.”
I turn, frowning at him. “What did I tell you about ‘letting’ me do anything?”
“This is different,” he says, coming over to wrap his arms around me. He kisses the crook of my neck and I melt against him in spite of myself. The wind dances in the sheer curtains on the inside of my bedroom windows, and the view of the half moon is unobscured by cloud cover. The night is so clear I can see the intricate gardens below, and the roses that only bloom at night reflecting the silver glow of the moon. As beautiful as this kingdom is, it’s full of thorns.
“How is that?” I mutter.
“For one thing, you’d be throwing away an opportunity for me, so I have a say in it,” he answers. “For another, this is bigger than the both of us, Danica. You always said you wanted to make a difference.”
“I know, but —”
“You are the princess,” he interrupts, his hands gliding down the sides of my nightgown. I feel the coolness of his touch through the thin silk and moan in spite of myself when his bare fingers brush the tops of my thighs. “There’s no greater opportunity to affect change than that.”
He’s right. I know he is, but the idea of never being able to call him mine before the whole kingdom is heart-wrenching. “I love you,” I murmur.
“I know you do,” he says, turning me to face him. His hand runs up the back of my thigh, cupping my bottom as he pushes his leg between mine and I press down against him like I have no shame. Where he’s concerned, it’s the truth. “But I think you also love Christopher.”
His words are a shock, and I back away from him, stunned. “What? How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” he says simply. “Whether you’ll admit it, even to yourself, is another matter. But anyone can tell from the way you look at him that your feelings for him are far from gone.”
I sputter for a response, but the words have left me. Yes, I loved Christopher. Once upon a time, I wanted nothing more than to run away with him, but that was then and this is now. “He’s changed. I’ve changed.”
“Yes, and if this is what it takes for you to figure out how you feel about him now, then so be it.”
“James!”
“I’m not saying I won’t be jealous,” he says, taking me into his arms once more. I fall under the spell of his eyes, and when his lips brush against mine, his cool breath dances over my skin. “But I don’t need to be your prince to know you’re mine.” His fingers graze my neck and push my hair aside and I shiver with need. It’s even more unforgivable to long for his bite the way I do now that I’m a princess, but I long for it all the same. Somehow, I think he knows it. He teases me, even though he’d never follow through, and even that is enjoyable in its own way. “I’ll be at your side always, Danica. As your protector, your knight, your consort. It doesn’t matter. All I need is you.”
His words fill me with strength I didn’t know I had, and when our lips meet, a fire burns bright inside of me. I feel it fanning out between us and by the time we make it over to the bed, it’s engulfed us both. James’ hand slides beneath my nightgown and I pull his mouth closer to my neck as he works a finger into me. I moan against him as another enters me, his touch gentle and experienced.
This man knows my body well, and it responds to him in kind. He always takes his time and I can tell my eagerness amuses him as I unfasten his uniform trousers, but he obliges. My heated sex welcomes the penetration, but I can tell from the hiss of his breath that my tightness is overwhelming. He eases in, closing the gap between us, and our tongues tease and slide across one another, deepening the arousal.
As the length of him begins to slide in and out of me, my body relaxes and surrenders to the rhythm while my heart joins in the chorus. Sometimes I wonder if it’s hard for him, the physical reminder of blood rushing that I’m sure is as loud in his ears as it is in mine. If it is, he never shows it, save for glances of lust in his eyes. It’s hard to distinguish the one from the other. Blood and sex. Is it as intrinsically connected for him as it is for the oth
ers?
I hunger for him in a different way, far more reckless. James is will and restraint incarnate, and he has to be, but me? I’m undisciplined and the lack of care comes through in these intimate moments, when all I want is to satisfy him the way he does me: fully.
I turn my head and bare my throat and his breathing stops for a moment as he turns my face back toward him and claims my lips instead. The kiss is satisfying in its own way, but sometimes I wish he would claim me with his fangs the way he does with his fearless hands.
He thrusts and I moan, a ritual we know all too well. My core tightens around his girth, beckoning the release we both need. His endurance is maddening and delightful, and my breathless cries of his name will carry through the halls if I don’t restrain myself.
Heat spills out inside of me, adding a layer of depth to my dizzying climax, and he whispers my name in relief. I let out a rush of breath as he lays on top of me, his body hard against my softest places. I catch my breath as he gazes down at me, stroking my hair and studying my face in adoration. Every time we make love, I feel some new part of myself unlocked, a need I never recognized sated.
This time is no exception, and as I fall asleep in James’ arms, I find shelter from antiquated tradition and the restrictions of noble blood. When I’m with him, I’m not wearing a title that doesn’t yet feel like my own, or the heavy expectations that come with it. When I look into his eyes, the reflection staring back at me is exactly who I am and who I want to be.
Chapter Four
When my coronation day arrives, the entire castle is adorned with fairy lights and smells of exotic spices. Tonight’s festivities will take the form of a masquerade ball, since royals never pass up an opportunity to get overdressed. The red carpet that leads through the winding halls has been freshly cleaned. Servants dash around, making last-minute arrangements, and I’ve finally accepted that I either remember my lines or I don’t.
Saying the words is the easy part, intonation aside. It’s living them out that will be the challenge. The summation of the vows I’m about to take is simple: My life for the kingdom. My will for their wellbeing.
Easier said than done when part of that promise means forgoing the idea of ever being mated to the man of my dreams. I resent the Pentarch, the five faceless elders who think they have the right to decide my fate. To decide that James isn’t the one I’m meant to be with.
The bells in the clock tower chime twice, and I know it’s time. James comes to find me in the hallway, and the sight of him is bittersweet. I reach out to take his hand and we steal a kiss in this moment that’s only ours, before the private world we’ve shared is opened up.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe. His dark mask makes his eyes look all the brighter, but Albien and I are the only two whose faces won’t be covered. I’m wearing a silver gown that’s ornate enough to be a wedding dress with a tight corset that still has nothing on the lung-crushing numbers the Marok maids forced me to wear. At least this one was designed with my input, leaving off the bows the designer had originally intended and replacing them with an elegant shawl draped around my otherwise bare arms. “Like a real princess.”
My cheeks color at his words. He can make even the most simple compliments feel like lavish praise. Maybe they just mean more coming from him. “We’ll see. I’ll be lucky if I don’t fall on my face walking toward the Pentarch.”
He chuckles, stroking my cheek. “You’ll do fine.”
His touch and reassuring presence actually make me feel like I stand a chance. I touch the locket resting against my chest, feeling the familiar hum of energy that seems like my only tether to my parents, even if it is only in my imagination. “I’m still not sure about all this.”
“You?” he asks dryly. “How do you think I feel? My mate is about to be courted by two other alphas.”
My blush grows worse. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Just a little gallows humor,” he promises. “But I did want to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” If he’s changed his mind, I’ll almost be relieved.
He takes my hand and the seriousness in his gaze gives me pause. “I want you to see this as an opportunity. The chance to figure out what your heart truly wants.”
“I know what my heart wants,” I protest. “It wants you. It always has.”
James gives me a gentle, knowing smile. “I know that. And you’ll always have me, Danica. That’s never been in question. But I meant what I said before. I want you to explore your feelings for Christopher and Rowan as well, wherever that leads.”
“Why?” I ask in disbelief. I don’t even want to admit that I still have feelings for Christopher, let alone Rowan, but James acts like he knows my heart better than I do, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Because I know what it’s like to feel like your heart is torn between two worlds. That’s not a choice I want you to have to make. Not for me,” he says quietly. “And we’re never going to be able to move forward as what we could be, if you haven’t come to terms with what they are.”
His words don’t make any sense to me, but I can tell from the way he’s speaking that this is important to him, so I resist the temptation to argue. “Alright,” I murmur. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” He leans in to kiss me as the music from within the throne room swells out into the hallway. “I think that’s your cue.”
“I don’t suppose you can walk me down the aisle?” I mutter.
James chuckles as the royal guards come to escort me. “I’m afraid not. But I’ll be watching.”
Somehow, knowing that gives me comfort, even under the strange circumstances. The guards bow and one offers his arm to me. They’re all in their finest regalia for the occasion.
“Princess. Shall we?”
“Yes,” I say, taking another deep breath as I take the guard’s arm. Two others open the large stone doors and lead me to the end of the carpet that cuts all the way through the throne room. At the very end of the room, Albien is seated on a massive golden throne, and I know the empty one at his left side is meant for me.
Each step along the rose-sprinkled carpet makes it feel even more surreal. It seems like every noble in the kingdom has gathered to watch the “lost princess” be sworn in, and I can feel them all studying me, weighing me against their collective and individual imaginations and expectations. Behind the throne sit the five elders, none quite as aged as I would have imagined. There’s only one woman, and her brilliant silver hair is tied in a loose braid that cascades down her satin silver robes. The four men vary in age from one who looks barely thirty to the oldest, who can’t be more than sixty. They’re all so somber and they don’t take their eyes off me the entire way to the end of the runner.
Albien stands to offer me his hand and a reassuring smile. I take them both with gratitude as he helps me up the steps that lead to the throne.
“My sister,” he says proudly, looking from me out to the crowd. “My dear lords and ladies of the Eternus Dynasty, it is with the greatest joy that I present to you my long lost sister, the Crown Princess of Eternus.”
The nobility erupt with joyous applause and declarations of praise. While I’m sure there are plenty of mixed feelings about my return, everyone present is too polite to show it. They offer nothing but acceptance and glowing approval, and as Jenna strides across the stage to offer Albien a crown seated on a plush red velvet pillow, I realize the moment has finally arrived.
Albien takes the crown from her and holds it proudly between his hands, his regal head held high as he gazes down at me. “Victoria,” he says, using my birth name, which will be how everyone in the kingdom addresses me from now on, save for those who truly know me. “Do you agree to uphold the vows of this kingdom? To place our subjects’ prosperity and safety above your own wishes, to serve this kingdom as faithfully as it shall serve you in return, by the order of the heavens
and by the sacrifices of our ancestors?”
“Yes,” I say, not sounding nearly as shaky as I feared.
“And to whom do you swear, dear sister?”
I take a deep breath and begin reciting the Latin incantations I’ve studied for weeks. The words come easily, despite my fears that I would blank out now that the moment has finally come. Now that I’ve said them, I can’t help but feel like I’m selling my soul. As if the meaning I’ve learned is just a cover, and I’ve made some bargain I can never take back. The feeling turns to panic, then a tangible sensation of electricity humming all across my skin. It’s enough to make me falter on the last phrase, but Albien and the crowd don’t seem to notice.
As quickly as the strange sensation occurred, it vanishes and leaves me breathless. Albien watches me with approval in his gaze and holds the crown high. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rowan and Christopher standing by in their fine regalia, James not far away from them. My heart beats faster, but I feel safer knowing they’re all here.
“And I accept these vows, most faithfully made,” he says as I lower myself to one knee to receive the honor that most women in the kingdom could only dream of. The crown feels heavy as he places it on my head, and while dread is the only thing I can feel at first, as the weight of it settles in, my heart begins to lift.
Albien offers his hand to help me to my feet and turns back to face the crowd. “My kingdom,” he cries triumphantly, showing a side of him far different from the quiet, nurturing young man I’ve come to know. “I present to you, your Princess!”
The room roars to life and the subjects stand to offer more applause. Even the Pentarch stand behind me, their faces somber compared to their show of reverence. I can’t help but smile at the fact that I made it through my coronation day without falling flat on my face or stumbling over my words. Now I just have to pretend like I know how to be a princess. How hard can it be?
Chapter Five
As the subjects celebrate, I learn another important lesson about being a royal. Victory never lasts long. Another trial is always soon to follow, and I know that the Pentarch will be exactly that as soon as they approach us. Even Albien’s triumph is short-lived and he grows sober the moment their greetings fall on his ears.
Court of Alphas: A WhyChoose Shifter Romance Page 2
