This is the last thing I should be doing right now. I came here because I was worried about him. Because the world is falling apart around us and I need him to be the one stable thing in it. Instead, I’m giving in to the temptation that’s always been there, no matter how long I’ve tried to ignore it in hopes it would go away.
The way my heart responds to his touch makes it clear that’s never going to happen. I may have convinced myself that I was over Christopher, but all I did was cover up the heartbreak and longing.
“Christopher,” I moan as he kisses my neck, his teeth grazing boldly where James is so afraid to tread. There’s no danger in his seductive bites, but the same thrill shoots down my spine. I arch beneath him in desperation most unbecoming of a Princess, but I take comfort in knowing that Christopher is probably the one person who will always see me for what I am, flaws and all.
The way he touches me, his fingers caressing my skin worshipfully as he slips down the straps on my dress, reassures me that he’s never stopped accepting me. After all that’s come between us, this moment proves we haven’t gone as far from each other as I feared. I feel his mutual relief in his kiss, in the surge of his body down on mine. His length rubs against my thigh as his hand pushes up the silk of my gown.
His mouth closes around my nipple, gentle yet forceful enough to elicit another moan. I pull my arms around his neck and draw him closer as he settles between my legs. His cock pulses against the heat of my sex and I kiss him hard to spur him on. The moment he enters me, it feels like two halves of the same whole becoming one, and I can’t believe it took us this long to get to this point.
Everything else fades away for the moment. It’s just him and me and our bodies moving in unison. My Christopher, my friend, my lover, my alpha… The heat in my core spreads all throughout my body and I push myself up against him in rhythmic motion, desperate to make him feel it, too.
His laugh is husky and sexy against my neck and he thrusts in harder to accommodate me. I wrap my legs around him and buck my hips as he fills me to the point of eyes-blurred satisfaction and I turn my head, an instinctive invitation to mark me that he knows well enough not to take.
I can tell from the fresh intensity of his touch that he appreciates the offer. His lips claim mine and my fingers tangle in his hair and for a moment, I just enjoy the fact that I’m not the only one who’s desperate. We’ve both wanted this for so long, waited for it for so long, and now that it’s finally here, it’s a tug-of-war between the torrid need and the desire to make it last for as long as possible.
Christopher proves to have more endurance than I do. I whisper his name, breathless and just sensible enough not to raise my voice above a faint plea for him to take me harder, faster, more. He gives me everything I ask and holds me close as he crests the wave of bliss with me for the second time.
We fall back, him on top of me, his fingers still tangled in mine, and we look at each other for a long while. I know his face better than my own, but I realize it’s the first time in such a long time that I’ve really just stopped and seen him. There’s more to it than sex and longing, this thing that’s remained unspoken and, until now, undone. There’s a haze of something like magic in the air, or maybe I’m just imagining it. I was seeing stars a second ago, so it’s possible, but there’s the faintest glow of something in his eyes that makes them bluer than blue.
“I love you, Danica,” he murmurs, distracting me from my impossible observation.
The words come as a shock, but they shouldn’t. Maybe there was a time, after he entered the Trials, where I doubted his motivation, but even that seems trivial to me now. Of course he loves me. He always has, and I’ve always loved him. It should fill my heart with sweet relief to hear those words out loud, but it doesn’t.
What if love isn’t enough?
“I love you, too,” I whisper, because I need him to know it before I lose the courage to confess. I need him to know in this moment, whatever circumstances contrived to bring us here, how I feel. Even if I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to own it tomorrow.
I fall asleep in his arms and try not to think about what this changes, or worse, what it doesn’t. It’s easy in his arms. I’ve always felt safe in them, even if it was a lie.
Chapter Twelve
When I open my eyes, the world seems changed, but also the same. It’s a strange dichotomy I’m still trying to make sense of by the time I realize Christopher is gone.
I sigh, pulling on my gown only to realize he tore it last night. Damn alphas. I slip quietly out of the room and have hope of making it back to my chambers without running into anyone when Jenna rounds the corner.
We both freeze, her taking in my disheveled appearance and me taking in her bloodshot eyes. I’ve seen her like this more than a few times since my brother went missing, and I know now that her devotion to him extends beyond her official duty.
She cares for him, deeply. I wonder if he knows. I make a promise to myself that when we find him, I’ll see to it that he does.
“Your Majesty,” Jenna says, bowing to me. “I was coming to look for you.”
“Is something wrong?” I ask, trying to hold my dress up by the strap that’s hanging from a thread.
“The Pentarch has arrived,” she says gravely. “They wish to speak with you.”
“The Pentarch? All of them?”
“Lord Raoul wouldn’t say what it was about, only that it was urgent.”
“I’ll be right down. Please stall them.”
She nods and I take off to get dressed. There’s no time to shower and make sure Christopher’s scent is completely off me, but he is one of the Pentarch-approved suitors, so they can’t say too much about it.
I change into a pair of dress slacks and a flowing silk blouse, securing my abused circlet in place before I head downstairs.
The scowl on Herin’s face tells me my outfit doesn’t meet his approval. Maybe princesses aren’t supposed to wear pants.
I decide they’ll live and nod patiently as each bows or curtsies to me in turn.
“Your Majesty,” Raoul says, giving me a hesitant once-over. His nose wrinkles and I can tell he’s surmised what I was up to last night, but he knows better than to say anything, at least. “Forgive the intrusion, but we have good news and I thought you would want to know at once.”
“Not at all,” I say diplomatically. “Please, be seated.”
The five sit down on the cushy sofas in the tea room as servants bustle around us, taking drink orders and fluffing pillows. Gianna sits stirring her tea with all the regality of a queen, and she steals a few disapproving glances at me when she can.
“Lord Raoul has brought it to our attention that you wish to disclose the nature of General Harquest’s betrayal to the kingdom,” says Gianna.
“Yes,” I say, straightening my back. Did Raoul actually come through? The look of triumph on his face certainly makes it seem that way. “I believe that he’s involved with Mace, and if we’re to find the King, forcing them onto the defensive is our only chance.”
“Yes, Lord Raoul made his case quite convincingly,” Blake says dismissively. “The Pentarch is divided, but given the lack of progress on finding His Majesty, we have agreed to let Lord Raoul take the lead in this matter.”
I resent the hell out of the fact that Raoul is taking credit for a strategy I had to strong-arm him into entertaining, but I guess what matters is getting it done. “Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. “He’s quite gifted.”
Raoul sits preening, his shoulders squared as he sips his tea.
“I commend you, Princess Victoria,” Dynus says, giving me another unwelcome reminder of the double life I was forced to lead. “This choice demonstrates a level of wisdom that is most befitting of a queen.”
Before I can figure out what the hell he’s talking about, Gianna chimes in. “Indeed, it does. There is something to be said for knowing one’s limitations,” she says, proving that she is, in fact, capable of ma
king any compliment into an insult. “With Lord Raoul at your side, I’m sure the good people of this kingdom will sleep soundly.”
“Pardon me?” I interject. “I think there’s been some mistake. I have agreed to allow Lord Raoul to court me, but I haven’t made a final decision, and I am not the Queen. Albien is still King.”
“Of course,” Raoul says quickly. “The formalities must be upheld, and of course, none of us will rest until His Majesty is found and returned.”
“But,” Herin interrupts. I’m this close to unsheathing the decorative blade at Raoul’s side and plunging it through his eye. “We must face the possibility that tragedy has once again befallen this great land, and if so, Eternus will need the security of a knowledgeable leader more than ever.”
My blood boils as the old man prattles on about my brother’s death, as if it’s a foregone conclusion. “Albien is not dead,” I seethe, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. I’ve never felt this kind of rage, threatening to spill over as if it’s literal poison boiling inside of me. The Pentarch grow silent, their snooty expressions falling. “He’s alive. I feel it, and he is coming home.”
“Of course he is,” Raoul says, standing to walk over to me, as if his presence is remotely comforting. He touches my shoulder and the only reason I allow it is because I don’t trust myself to lose control, even for a moment. “My dear, why don’t I escort you outside? Some fresh air would do you good.”
“I don’t need fresh air,” I snap, pulling my arm away from him. I realize only when I catch a glimpse of someone in the door that we’re not alone.
Christopher is standing there in his full regalia, watching us and getting all the wrong ideas from Raoul’s intimate posture. I pull away from him and stand, hoping it’s not too little, too late. “Christopher,” I breathe.
“There he is. Good timing,” Blake says, propping himself up on his cane to stand. “The lad might as well officially greet his new contender.”
“Contender?” Christopher asks, looking between us in confusion.
“Danica made the proposal, and after some careful consideration, I have chosen to accept the honor,” Raoul says, giving Christopher a sporting bow even though the look in his eyes as he extends a hand to the other alpha is anything but. “To a healthy competition?”
Christopher looks down at his hand, then back at me. I know what he’s thinking. I see the betrayal in his eyes, but I can’t reassure him here without tipping Raoul and the others off to the fact that I never actually planned to consider him.
“Christopher!” I cry as he turns to leave.
“Not very sporting, is he?” Dynus huffs.
Gianna mutters something about commoners that I don’t have the time to stick around and address. I rush after Christopher, willing Raoul not to follow me. I swear, I’ll let my wolf out just to bite him.
“Christopher, wait!” I plead.
He finally stops at the end of the hall before turning around to face me. “What?” he demands in a tone as cold as his expression.
“This isn’t what it seems like,” I say, taking another step toward him. “I’m not actually considering Raoul. I just needed him to convince the Pentarch —”
“And what did you need me for, Danica?” he asks, surprising me with the bite in his words.
“What are you talking about?”
“You weren’t actually considering me either, were you?” he asks somberly.
I stare at him in disbelief. “Where is this coming from?”
“Tell me the truth, Danica,” he says, locking his eyes on mine. As soon as they make contact, I feel frozen. The same hum of energy between us that was so empowering last night surrounds me now, but it feels crushing. Constricting. Christopher doesn’t blink or take his eyes off me. My heart breaks as he speaks the words, “I bind you to tell me the truth.”
“Christopher,” I seethe. Is he trying to manipulate me with magic? I don’t want to believe he would do something like that. Not the man I love, the friend I’ve known my whole life. But the darkness in his eyes makes him unrecognizable. They were a lighter blue last night, but now they’re deeper and there’s something unnatural about them. “Don’t do this.”
“Tell me,” he demands, coming closer. “You don’t love me. Not the way you love him,” he says bitterly. “If it came down to the two of us, it wouldn’t even be a contest, would it?”
The words choke me as they pile up in my throat. I try to fight it, but the urge to speak and let it all out overpowers me. “No,” I grit out. Less so now than ever, knowing he’s capable of this. Before, I don’t know what the answer would have been, but now…
His eyes darken, but I feel the vice grip of his energy recede. The magic he used against me without a second thought. There’s a look of triumph on his face, mingling with the disappointment, as if he’s finally proven himself right.
“There,” he mutters. “Was that so hard?”
“How dare you?” My voice trembles as I bring a hand to my throat, returning to control over my own words.
Before Christopher can respond, Rowan rounds the corner and stops, looking at us both in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks, putting himself between me and Christopher without waiting for an explanation. “You okay?”
I take his arm, more because I need the support than because I’m actually afraid of Christopher. I’m plenty afraid for him. The intimacy we shared last night gave me false hope that there’s more of my old friend left than I feared, but now I can see the truth. My worst fear has already come true. He’s not just dabbling in magic beyond his control, it’s already taken control of him.
“I was just taking myself out of the running,” Christopher says, turning away. He walks down the hall and while there’s still part of me that longs to stop him, I’m too hurt and angry to do it.
Rowan turns me to face him, putting his hands on my shoulder. “Dan, what’s wrong?” he asks, frowning. “Talk to me.”
“Nothing,” I choke, fighting back the tears I won’t allow to make me feel any more hurt and ashamed than I already do. I might be furious at Christopher, but if anyone finds out he used magic against a member of the royal family, banishment is the best case scenario.
I’ve always known magic was forbidden, but until now, I didn’t fully understand why. Now I know the truth. Magic changes you. It corrupts things that are pure and good and turns them ugly.
Chapter Thirteen
James returns three days after Christopher fails to show up for guard duty, and while Jenna and the others are bewildered, I’m not surprised in the least. I don’t know where he’s gone, I only know that I’m more afraid of what will happen to him here if he sticks around. What he’ll become while he’s out there scares me, too, but at this point, it’s just a matter of picking my poison.
When James’ arms wrap around me, the sting goes away, even if it’s only for a little while. I relax against him, breathing in his scent. “I missed you.”
“And I missed you,” he says, resting his hand against the back of my head. He finally pulls away, his gaze full of guilt. “I’m sorry I had to come back empty-handed.”
“I’m just glad you came back,” I insist, taking his hand. “No leads on Albien?”
He shakes his head gravely. “They pulled everyone when they started scrambling the troops into position.”
“Into position for what?” I ask warily.
“Word on the street is that they’re going to announce Harquest’s betrayal tonight. And his arrest.”
“Arrest?” My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“He tried to kill the King, Danica. It’s all or nothing at this point, and giving him any room means he could mount a rebellion.”
“I guess so,” I murmur. Somehow, I wasn’t expecting the Pentarch to actually go through with it, but they’ve made it clear that they execute even other people’s ideas in their own way. I tried to explain to Raoul the importance of finding out what connection Mace has to Ryland, a
nd flushing him out of hiding, but who knows if he was actually listening or just humoring me?
“What’s this I hear about Christopher leaving?” James asks, growing somber.
“It’s true,” I murmur. “He didn’t say anything to me, so I don’t know where he went. It’s probably for the best.”
“How can you say that?”
I understand his confusion, and for a moment, I think of covering up the truth, but I can’t. I can’t bring myself to lie to James, and I end up telling him everything. The words spill out of me along with the tears and by the end, I can tell the only reason he isn’t ready to explode is because he knows he needs to keep me from falling apart.
“That son of a bitch,” he growls, putting an arm around my shoulder. “We’ll find him and drag him back here.”
“Don’t,” I plead. “He’s not himself, and I don’t think he has been for a long time. The magic, it’s… It’s changed him.”
He listens, still livid, but I can at least tell he’s listening. “You should have told me about the spell, Dani.”
“I know. But you guys aren’t exactly close, and I didn’t want him getting in trouble.”
“I wouldn’t have told anyone,” he says, frowning. “He’s important to you, Danica. That means he’s important to me, regardless of how I feel about him otherwise. For what it’s worth, I know Rowan would say the same.”
Guilt eats away at me as his words sink in. “You’re right,” I murmur. The two of them have done nothing but stand by me, and while I thought I was just protecting Christopher, I know part of it was protecting my idea of him. Pretending like keeping his secrets was enough to maintain the relationship that’s been hanging by a thread for so long.
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