Royal Mate

by Juniper Hart

  “Oh my God,” he muttered. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

  Poet laughed shakily, pulling his face to hers for another deep kiss.

  “I missed you so much,” she told him sincerely. “I don’t understand what happened.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he assured her, slowly releasing her legs so she was level with the seating, one foot on the floor of the boat, the other lounging along the rail of the speedboat. “We’re together now.”

  He slid out of her, and she released a small sigh of disappointment.

  “We’ll go back to London,” Poet said, offering him a smile. “But let’s stay and enjoy our vacation for a few days.” Max lowered his eyes, and Poet immediately tensed. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his dark head, falling back against her raised leg to lay a hand against her inner thigh. The movement caused her to shiver with delight.

  “We should stay here for a while,” he told her. “Until I can figure some things out.”

  Poet’s smile faded. “What things?” she demanded, sitting up to stare into his face. “What are you worried about? My father assured me that all your legal troubles are—”

  “It’s not that,” Max interjected, brushing a strand of honey-blonde hair from her face. “It’s much worse than that.”

  Poet felt her heart catch. “Whatever it is, Max, we’ll get through it. Are you worried about my thesis?”

  Max grimaced at the reminder. “Partially,” he replied, leaning forward to find his pants.

  “Tell me!” she insisted. “My thesis doesn’t have to be published, Max, and whatever you tell me stays between us, I promise.”

  He sat back up, his cell phone in hand. With a sigh, he unlocked the device. “I’m afraid that you and I have a little problem.”

  Poet eyed him skeptically. “Well?”

  Max handed her the phone, and Poet watched the YouTube clip curiously until her eyes widened in horror. It showed Max running through the streets of London, shifting into a dragon as he pounced on Nick Taylor.

  “Oh, my God,” she murmured, staring at him with concerned eyes. “People will hunt you—”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about, Poet,” Max told her softly.

  She laughed shortly. “I’m about to be the most heavily guarded princess in the world, Max. You don’t need to worry about me. But you…” He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher, but it made her heart patter nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Poet, I was sent to Oxford to kill you,” Max said bluntly. “And now that I have protected you instead of honoring my father’s wishes, he will be looking for you himself.”

  Fear pierced Poet’s heart, and she gaped at him.

  “What?” she whispered, although a part of her had always suspected it. She stared at him, her eyes bright with fear.

  Max exhaled slowly and nodded.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “It doesn’t matter how protected you are; you are no match for a dragon. We are both in a world of trouble.”

  14

  Dusk was falling over the ocean.

  Poet seemed oblivious to the guards who waited on the shore for them to disembark, but Maximus was painfully aware of their presence as they sat in the boat, discussing their perilous future. After he was done trying his best to put Poet’s mind at ease, he would still have to meet with King Henry and explain how he had managed to find and rescue Poet.

  And I will have to leave out the part about turning into a dragon, he thought, even though there is a video of me going viral right now. How did I make such a mess of everything?

  But first things first: his lover was scared and needed placating.

  “How long do you think we have? Will he just come here, or will he try to make contact first? I mean, how can we—?”

  “You must take a deep breath, love, and look at me,” Maximus instructed Poet, clasping her hands in his. “First of all, no one knows you are here on Luxe right now, as per your father’s orders. He whisked you away right after the kidnapping for your own safety.”

  “That was weeks ago!” Poet cried, tears pooling in her beautiful eyes. Maximus’ heart swelled at the sight of her terror.

  “You must trust that I know my father better than anyone,” he said calmly. “He has not left the castle in many centuries, and he is not likely to venture far, even in his anger.” He simply hoped his assessment was correct.

  As if reading his mind, Poet challenged him. “You just said he never leaves the castle. If he’s so angry that he will do it, who’s to say he won’t go anywhere necessary? Or what if he sends someone else?”

  “Poet, look at me,” Maximus implored her, cupping her face in his palms. “Have I not kept you safe so far? At least for the most part?” She tried to smile, but the tears slipping down her cheeks withdrew any meaning. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. “You must trust me, Poet.”

  She inhaled shakily and bit down on her lower lip.

  “This is all my fault, but I can tell him that I won’t publish the paper,” she swore. “Let me find a way to speak with him!”

  Maximus tried to envision how that conversation would go, and he almost snickered at the thought. Poet wouldn’t last two minutes with Rui at negotiations.

  Anyway, King Rui didn’t know half of what Maximus knew. If he had any idea that Poet was so well-informed in the ways of dragons, she would have been dead long ago.

  And how sure am I that he is coming? Maximus asked himself. You haven’t been in touch with him, only Titus. He could have forgotten about Poet by now…

  It was a losing game he was playing with himself. Titus knew, and that was bad enough. While his brother would not strive to betray him, he would have little choice when faced with Rui’s demands. Titus had warned Maximus about the repercussions of rescuing Poet, and he had blatantly ignored them.

  I didn’t ignore them, he corrected himself. I said that I would deal with them later. Well, later is now.

  The best thing Maximus could hope for would be the king coming for Poet, but he had a feeling that his father would send another one of his brothers to do his bidding.

  “What will happen to you, Max?” Poet whispered, her mouth inches from his. “What will he do to you?”

  Maximus shook his head, recalling how Ansel had forsaken Misty Woods and what had happened to him.

  “Nothing, really,” he replied truthfully. “There is very little he can do to me in the grand scheme of things.” She blinked at the confession.

  “Because you can overtake him?” Poet asked hopefully.

  For a moment, Maximus considered that option. He couldn’t kill him, but he could fight him. He was sure that he was stronger than the old dragon king. Rui may have once been a great warrior, but those days were long gone. Even his strategy-oriented son could take him, Maximus was certain.

  But then what? Fighting his father would only buy him and Poet some time. Besides, if he attempted to fight the king, it would break whatever alliances he had with his brothers.

  And we are Williams Princes, heirs to the Kingdom of Misty Woods, he thought. We do not run in the face of our enemy. We fight, no matter how bad the odds. That is how we wound up like this in the first place.

  He sat up as something occurred to him. Perhaps there was still a way out of all this where everyone remained unscathed…

  “What are you thinking?” Poet asked him as his hands closed in around hers, and Maximus found his eyes darting back toward the shoreline again.

  “I think we should put these unpleasant thoughts aside for tonight and join your father in the palace,” he said, “where he has been pacing the walls, most likely, wanting to know about the man who has captured his daughter’s heart.”

  “Forget about my father!” Poet exploded. “We are talking about our lives here!”

  Maximus nodded and leaned forward to kiss her lips softly.

  “We will need all the allies we can mus
ter in the upcoming days,” he replied quietly. “Let’s go to the palace now.” He rose from the seat, his hand extended to hers as he helped her to her feet.

  Poet looked at him reluctantly but permitted herself to be led off the boat. Maximus smiled at her, shaking his head.

  “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on an island like this,” he murmured. “I could get used to living like this.”

  “I could get used to living, period,” Poet retorted, and Maximus hugged her close.

  “Get me access to the internet, love. I think I might have an idea to get us on the right track again,” he whispered as they approached the guarded beach.

  She eyed him hopefully. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “I promised to keep you safe, didn’t I? Well, let me do my job now.”

  Poet exhaled and squeezed his palm. “I’ve always had faith in you,” she told him.

  Maximus laughed aloud. “Even when you thought I was the one who kidnapped you?”

  She froze in her tracks and turned to look at him. “That really happened, didn’t it? You came to me in my dreams when they took me.”

  “Actually,” he corrected, twining his fingers through her hair. “You came to me.”

  “I thought I was hallucinating,” Poet sighed. “But that’s how you figured out what happened to me, isn’t it?”

  “We’re connected somehow, beyond reason,” Maximus mumbled, his lips finding the top of her forehead. “It was something I felt the minute I saw you, even from a distance.”

  “You mean when you were stalking me?” she teased, and he shrugged his shoulders.

  “Whatever you want to call it,” he said, brushing his full mouth against Poet’s. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, and now look at the world of chaos we’re in,” Poet grunted. “You should have just let them kill me.”

  A spark of anger ignited in him. “Never say that again!” Maximus hissed, softly grabbing her by the arms. “I would never let you go when I feel like I’ve been searching for you my whole life. I’ve never felt more alive than when I’ve been with you, Poet.”

  Their eyes met, and Maximus felt a surge of familiar electricity course through them.

  “I love you,” Poet exhaled.

  “I love you,” Maximus said, leaning their foreheads together. “That’s why I will never let anything happen to you.”

  Someone cleared their voice from behind Maximus, but he didn’t turn, nor did Poet move.

  “What is it, Paolo?” she called without breaking her gaze from Maximus’ face.

  “Your father awaits you for supper on the upper deck of the palace,” the man stuttered nervously, clearly reluctant about interrupting such an intimate moment.

  “Thank you, Paolo,” Poet replied. “Tell him we will be there in a little while. We have one very urgent matter to attend to first.”

  Maximus grinned at her, and she returned his smile.

  “Naughty, naughty princess,” he whispered. “I like the way you think.”

  “It’s like you said,” she murmured. “We have limited time. Let’s just pretend we are like everyone else tonight. I don’t want to think about what could be waiting for us tomorrow.”

  Maximus answered her with a kiss.

  I have a way out of this, he thought with confidence. His father was going to be livid, but it was a small price to pay for love.

  “Come on,” Poet whispered, pulling on his hand. “I want to show you our quarters.” Her long, white sundress swirled around her ankles as she moved, and Maximus followed her, his eyes fixated on her perfect shape beneath the thin material of her dress.

  We could live here forever, he thought, licking his lips as his mind traveled forward to what he was going to do to her. Away from the dismal, cold of Misty Woods, away from the insanity of Father’s orders.

  A whisper in his head asked him who would take care of Rui in his absence, but he suddenly realized that his father had not only managed to survive without him for almost a month, the old dragon had enacted war on him and Poet. He didn’t need Maximus, and he never had. Why had he always thought he needed to be there for him?

  Poet turned to look at him over her shoulder, winking seductively, and Maximus felt as if everything was moving in slow motion.

  He saw what he had been missing all along. Everything in his life had led him to that moment, there with Poet. She was what he had needed.

  “You have the funniest look in your eyes,” she told him, her expression perplexed and amused as they stopped at the stucco walls of a villa off the main building.

  “Do I?” he asked. “Maybe I am just thinking about what I’m going to do to you.”

  Poet shook her head.

  “You’re thinking about something else,” she replied slowly, her mouth parting slightly as she stopped to run her fingertips over his lips. “You’re thinking about how we’re going to be together forever.”

  Maximus smiled. “I am.”

  “And you’re sure, aren’t you?” she asked, her expression filled with hope. “You’re certain we’re going to make it through this. I can see it in your face.”

  “I am certain,” he replied with a nod of his head, pulling her close. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  “How?” she whispered.

  “You’ll see when it happens,” Maximus promised her.

  He hoped that he was right. It was the only hope they had.

  15

  The brush grew thicker, and Poet pushed the bramble bushes aside, her eyes focused on Max as she ventured further into the dense woods. Her heart was hammering so violently, she was certain that any woodland creatures could hear the erratic nature of her pulse.

  Can anyone live out here? Genuinely? It seemed highly improbable, but Max forged forth as if he had walked the path hundreds of times before. How does he do that? Poet wondered, awe and terror filling her. How does he manage to remain so confident when our lives are in so much danger?

  But it wasn’t her decision to question, her faith in Max unyielding.

  At first, she had been petrified at the plan he had come up with.

  “How can you know this will work? There are so many things that could go wrong!” she gasped, unsure if it was her own hesitation about what he had suggested or the perils it entailed. For one, returning to the UK seemed foolish.

  “This is the only way,” Max told her earnestly, and Poet eventually agreed that he was right.

  “What will change?” she whispered. “How—what—how…” She trailed off, the questions taking her breath away.

  “I don’t remember,” Max answered sadly. “Or I would tell you. It’s been… far too long.”

  Poet blinked at his honesty, the love she felt for him only grew when she realized he was as scared by the prospect as she was.

  “I’ll do it,” she said. “If there’s a way, I will see it through.”

  That had been a week ago, and it had taken that long to find who they were looking for. But once again, Poet was having second thoughts.

  This really can’t be right, she thought. His information is faulty.

  For over three hours, they moved through the dense forest, and as Poet felt the temperatures drop, she wished Max would simply put her on his back and scour the forest from the skies.

  “It’s impossible,” he told her flatly. “We won’t be able to see a damned thing from that vantage point. We have to do it this way.”

  The stress in his voice was almost palpable, and Poet could see he was equally uncertain about their risky journey. From time to time, she watched him look upward, as if he expected one of his dragon relatives to come swooping in from the heavens, ending their quest before they could ever really know for sure.

  Is this a wild goose chase? she wondered. There was only one way to know.

  As the sun’s rays weakened, a spark of nervousness tweaked through Poet’s form, like something was mocking her from within the trees. T
here was nothing out here. It was far too remote.

  Yet as she thought it, the cabin appeared, and Poet blinked several times, as if she were seeing a mirage in the desert.

  Like in a fairy tale, it sat right in front of them, a moss-covered structure made of thick wood. Smoke billowed from the dual chimneys, and a brown picket fence enclosed two sheep and a handful of chickens on the wide, square lawn. It did not look like much, but Poet had the sense that it was much bigger than it appeared to be. Whoever lived inside knew something about survival.

  Probably more than we do, Poet thought, exchanging a glance with Max. He seemed frozen, as if he, too, was unsure about what they were going to do.

  “This is your last chance to change your mind,” he warned her. “We can turn around and go back to Luxe until judgment day.”

  “No,” Poet said firmly. “We’ve come this far, and we’re not going back until she tells us what she can do to help us.”

  “Poet,” Max began, “there is no guarantee that she will help us. I have told you the tale of how we came to be. We were borne of a curse, not a blessing. Even if she can—”

  “Stop procrastinating,” she interrupted him. “We need to do this, Max. For us to be together in peace.”

  Their gazes seemed to give the other a slight boost of confidence, and they stepped forward, hand in hand. Cautiously, they approached the cottage, ignoring the bleating sheep who seemed annoyed by their presence.

  A cow appeared from nowhere, causing them both to jump. It mooed at them questioningly as they entered the gate, and Poet laughed nervously.

  “I feel like I just walked onto the set of Hansel and Gretel,” she confided.

  “You might have,” Max told her. “Except there is no director here.” They gingerly walked up the flagstone pathway, and Max raised his fist to knock on the door. “Hello?” he called out. “Ruby?”

  If the cow had startled them, the tiny woman that threw the door open scared the daylights out of them, causing them to jump back in surprise.

  Max’s mouth dropped in shock.