The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1)

by Chloe Walsh

  "Whatever. Enjoy getting fucked in the ass, whore," I countered and moved for the door.

  "Wait – wait. I was in the room that night," she cried out. "When you cut that girl's throat for touching your prince. When she gave him pleasure."

  My lip curled up at the memory. "Fuck you."

  "You didn’t hesitate when you took her life," she continued to sob. "Please don't hesitate now."

  "Why should I kill you?" I questioned, tone level, brow arched. "What could I possibly gain from taking your life?"

  "Because I'm a woman," she choked out. "Your own kind. Show some loyalty." She yanked hard on her restraints again. "I had a family once." A broken sob tore from her chest. "People who loved me, and now I'm nothing!"

  "I don’t have a kind," I was quick to tell her. "Or a family. My mother abandoned me during infancy and my father gift-wrapped my body to the devil himself. No woman has ever risked shit for me and every man I have ever met has either tried to rape or murder me. I have been beaten and abused, betrayed and tortured by both sides of the spectrum. I learned from a very young age to only show loyalty to the deserving." I looked her over. "And you are not deserving of my loyalty."

  "How can you say that?" she cried out, clearly frustrated with me. "You don't even know me."

  "Exactly," I deadpanned. "And you don’t know me. But here you are, making demands on my time that you have no right to make. Who are you to ask anything of me? What have you or any of the other whores ever done for me – besides mock and taunt me and try to take what's mine?"

  "You're heartless," she strangled out.

  "Possibly," I agreed. "But I'm a survivor first and foremost."

  "You have to feel something," she sobbed. "Everyone feels something for someone. It's human nature!"

  "Yes," I agreed. "That is true."

  "And?"

  I stared blankly. "And what?"

  "And what do you feel for?" she pushed. "What do you have in your life, heiress whore?"

  I shrugged simply. "I have a king."

  "The bastard prince," she whispered. "You're loyal to him." She sniffled. "And you trust him? A Crellid? You truly believe he'll treat you better than all the others?"

  "Yes," I replied without an ounce of hesitation.

  "Because you're his little princess," she sneered.

  "No," I replied evenly. "Because I'm his queen."

  "You're living in a fairytale." She choked out a humorless laugh. "You're on cloud fucking nine if you believe Trigger Laperro– or any of those pricks – will bow to a woman. He's his father's son, and you're a foolish child for putting your trust in him!"

  "Careful," I warned, hackles rising as a wave of possessiveness swept through me. "Be very careful."

  "Anonymity," she offered then, surprising me with how well-spoken and crafty she appeared to be. "If you kill me, then he'll never know you were in here tonight. I won't be able to talk. But if you walk out of this room without giving me what I want, I'll throw you to the wolves faster than you can call your precious prince for help, and you can join the rest of us in hell."

  Fuck, she was right.

  "You're a strange woman." I tilted my head to one-side, impressed by her bravery. "And you want to die?"

  "More than anything," she whispered.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive."

  Three more gun shots went off, sending a spark of anxiety through my body.

  Patrice.

  I was running out of time.

  Making a split decision, I pocketed my dagger into the waistband of my panties and moved for the bed.

  "Okay." Climbing onto the mattress, I straddled her bare hips and sighed. "I'll give you this."

  She whimpered beneath me and released a ragged breath. "Thank you."

  Not wanting to delay the inevitable and desperate to get back to him, I hovered over her and placed both hands over her mouth and nose.

  Holding my breath right along with her, I watched as she remained perfectly still beneath me for the longest moment.

  Finally, after nearly two minutes, her survival instincts kicked in, and she began to thrash against me.

  "Shh, it's okay," I whispered, leaning close to her ear, allowing myself to feel my humanity for a couple of minutes. "You're a bird and you're about to fly home." She continued to thrash, weaker now. "You'll fly away from these monsters. You'll leave them all behind. They can't reach you in the sky," I soothed, nuzzling her cheek with my nose. "You're going back to your family." Her body jerked violently beneath me. "They'll hold you in their arms and you'll be warm and safe and loved." I closed my eyes, feeling the life slowly drain out of her. "And you'll feel no more pain. You'll be free." She stopped moving. "Your body will belong to you again." I pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Fly home."

  Cautiously, I removed my hands from her mouth and nose and checked her pulse.

  Nothing.

  Lifeless.

  She was home.

  A door slammed loudly.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" a familiar voice demanded from behind me.

  Aw shit.

  Casting a glance over my shoulder, I locked eyes on none other than Jethro.

  Springing into action, I climbed off the girl, pushing my nightdress down as I moved.

  "I heard her screaming for help," I lied coolly. "I tried to revive her, but she's gone." I shrugged. "Heart attack."

  He arched a disbelieving brow. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, I do." Circling him like a predator would its prey, I reached for my dagger and lunged. Jet's eyes widened when I pinned him to the wall, blade pressed to his throat. "Do you believe me now, Jet?"

  He nodded slowly. "Yes."

  "Good," I whispered, trailing the tip of the blade down his throat. "You're so pretty, Jethro." Smiling, I reached up and nicked his cheek with my blade. "It would be an awful shame to see that pretty face all cut up."

  "You're not this person, Ash," he whispered, eyes laced with pain. "My brother is bad for you. He's corrupting your mind."

  "No." Shaking my head, I giggled softly. "Your family corrupted me." Sighing in contentment, I traced his jaw with the blade, tilting my head to one-side when a small line of blood broke the surface of his skin. "Your brother freed me."

  "I'm a safer bet for you," he whispered back. "I can protect you. I'll still do it for you."

  "You don’t even like me like that," I giggled. "Don’t worry." I winked. "I can keep a secret."

  His eyes flared with emotion. "You just murdered someone and you're making jokes?" He gaped at me like I was a stranger. "What happened to you?"

  "Life happened." I shrugged. "And heart attack, remember?"

  Jet sighed in defeat. "Heart attack."

  "Thanks, friend," I cooed, slapping his cheek. "You know the drill. You keep my secrets and I'll keep yours."

  "He's going to get you killed. Or you'll get him killed. Or you'll both end up killing each other because you're both fucking insane," he told me. "Either way, you're losing your mind in him, Ashton. It's not safe, and it won't end well."

  I tilted my head to one-side. "What does it feel like – to be taken by a man? Will I enjoy it?" My eyes danced with excitement. "Do you think he'll give in and take me before my initiation?"

  Jet gaped at me. "Are you even listening to me?"

  I smiled back at him. "Nope."

  He sighed heavily. "Just go. He's probably back by now and waiting for you. He'll burn the whole damn estate down if he can't find you. Shit, he'll probably kill me for talking to you."

  Heat pooled deep inside of me and I quickly turned on my heels, moving for the door.

  "Ash, you need to be careful. You're getting sloppy. And don’t tell him I spoke to you," Jet called after me, but I didn’t bother to respond.

  I was too busy racing down the hallways to get back to Trig.

  He would be back soon and I wanted to be there waiting for him.

  I a
ched when we were apart for too long and going an entire day without smelling, tasting, or touching him was agony.

  The closer I got to his quarters, the more lightheaded I felt.

  Trembling when I reached his door, I quickly let myself inside.

  The minute I had the door closed, he was on me.

  "Corderito." His big body pinned me to the door. His blood-soaked hands moved to my hips, lips brushing against my neck. "Mi reina."

  "Hmm." Shivering, I leaned heavily against him and reached up to hook an arm around his neck. "Mi rey."

  "You are late." His voice was deep and gruff as his teeth tugged on the flesh covering my artery. "Bad lamb."

  A shiver of pleasure coursed through me. "Bad wolf."

  "Did I please my queen tonight?"

  Nodding weakly, I took his big hand in mine and pushed it up my bare thigh. "Yes." Exhaling a ragged breath, I pushed his hand into my panties. "Did I please my king?"

  A deep growl of appreciation rolled through him and I felt his fingers trace my slit before he slowly removed his hand, taking the memory stick with him.

  "Sí." He pressed a feather light kiss to my collarbone before stepping back. "As always."

  Chest heaving from the lack of contact, I spun around and leaned heavily against the door, watching Trig as he moved for the loose floorboard in the corner of the room. "How many did we lose tonight?"

  Wordlessly, he knelt down and hooked his pinky finger into the tiny hole in the floor, pulling up the board an inch to slide the memory stick inside.

  Finally, he spoke. "Seven."

  Riveted to the spot, I watched as he slowly rose to his feet and turned to face me. "And them?" I asked, wetting my lips with my tongue. "Give me good news, Trig."

  A slow smile crept across his lips. "Forty-nine of The Order." His eyes darkened. "Forty-nine Crellid-loving scum."

  Relief slammed into me and I grinned back at him. "Herrick, Lotus, and Fracks?" I dared to mention the names of the remaining men from that night. He had been hunting those bastards since he was thirteen years old. Since they raped and murdered his mother right in front of him. "Are your mother's rapists still alive?"

  He shook his head slowly and my heart slammed wildly.

  "It was slow." Reaching behind his head, he pulled his blood-soaked shirt off and tossed it away. "It was painful." His smile faltered. "It was difficult to execute them when we were supposed to be on the same side." His eyes darkened, his memories taking him to a place I hated. "It was not enough."

  His mother's death was the catalyst that had thrown him head-first into this underworld. It was part of the reason we had taken such risks tonight. Watching his mother's barbaric death had snuffed out the humanity in him.

  It was exactly what Fabio had wanted.

  I knew this.

  Altering people's minds was a skill Fabio Crellid had been blessed with.

  However, it had backfired tremendously with this particular son.

  His attempt at evoking an almost Stockholm syndrome mindset in Trigger hadn't worked to the desired effect.

  All Fabio had managed to do was replace the love in his son's heart with hatred, his compassion with violence. He pushed Trig to the darkest part of humanity, to the furthest point in his mind, risking snapping his tether to his humanity on the off-chance that he came back as an impenetrable soldier.

  Trig did come back as a soldier.

  Just not Fabio's soldier.

  And his devotion didn’t belong to Fabio, either.

  It belonged to me.

  "She suffered," Trig continued, lost in his past. "For more days than I have fingers to count." His jaw ticked. "It should be the same for them."

  "Trig –"

  "She hid me because she was trying to stop me from becoming a monster like him." With a pained look in his eyes, he gestured to himself and released a humorless laugh. "She was trying to stop me from becoming what I am tonight." He shrugged almost helplessly. "In the end, it appears that she died for nothing."

  "That's not true." Desire and need had me moving straight for him. "Look at me." Reaching up, I cupped his face between my hands and tugged his face down to mine. "They are burning in hell for what they did to her."

  "You do not believe in hell, corderito," he offered, a smile ghosting his lips once more. "You do not pray to a God."

  "No, but you do," I replied, trailing my thumbs over his cheekbones. "And I believe in you." My tone was full of passion and sincerity. "If you want, we can sneak outside later and burn them?" I offered. "Set fire to their worthless corpses? If it makes you feel better?"

  "You are, as they say, a little crazy like the cuckoo bird," he stated, eyeing me with a hungered expression. "Perfecto."

  The tension slowly eased from his shoulders and he looped his arms around my waist and drew me flush against his big chest.

  "What would my mother say, hmm?" Smirking, he bent his head to press another kiss to my neck, inhaling deeply. "If she knew that her son belonged to a pagan queen?"

  "I can keep a secret," I whispered, arching my neck and pushing up on my tiptoes. "I won't tell."

  "Sí," he agreed, trailing his lips up and down my neck. "You smell like me, corderito."

  "Trig." Shivering, I lowered one of my hands to rest on his chest. "Say it."

  "Say what, corderito?" he teased, lips moving to the curve of my jaw. "What is it that you wish for me to say?"

  "You know what I want," I moaned, feeling my body go limp against his. "Tell me."

  "Tell you that you are my best friend?" he purred, teasing now.

  I shook my head. "Luke warm."

  "That you are my equal?"

  "You're getting warmer," I breathed.

  "That you are my little cuckoo birdie?"

  I scowled at him. "Colder."

  "My bad lamb?"

  I stared blankly.

  He squinted, looking wary. "My good lamb?"

  I eyerolled him. "You're losing me here, Trig."

  He sighed. "How about you are the most terrifying woman I have ever known, and your violent tendencies make me mucho hard?" A small smile ghosted his lips when I didn’t object. "And I will never dishonor you again – or risk another blade to my cock?"

  I arched a brow. "I'm listening."

  "That I will be faithful to you? Now and always?"

  "Yeah, okay." I huffed out a breath. "Warming back up again."

  He smiled. "That I will break the bars around your cage and set you free?"

  I exhaled a ragged breath. "Okay, now you're getting hot."

  "That nothing so beautiful and wild should ever be caged, and that I do not wish to possess you. I only wish to stand beside you as your equal?"

  My eyelids fluttered. "God, Trig –"

  "Te amo," he whispered in my ear before pressing a kiss to my earlobe. "Profundamente." Keeping his arm hooked around me, he walked us into his bedroom. "Desesperadamente." Hitching me up, he carefully lowered me onto his bed and then hovered above me, hands resting on either side of my face. "Siempre." Leaning close, he pressed the lightest of kisses to my lips. "Soy eternamente tuyo, mi reina."

  I love you.

  Deeply.

  Desperately.

  Forever.

  I am eternally yours, my queen.

  Nuzzling my nose with his, he arched back to look into my eyes. "Am I hot enough yet, corderito?"

  "Yeah, Trig." Nodding eagerly, I hooked my arm around his neck. "You're off the charts," I breathed before crashing my lips to his…

  Dragging myself from my reverie, I watched from my perch on my cot as Patrice rolled a trolley laden down with supplies into my latest sleeping quarters – a room in the underground level of the compound, alongside the working whores.

  A temporary rush of relief flooded my veins at the sight of my former bodyguard, before my outrage quickly sniffed that out.

  I was too pissed to be relieved.

  I was in trouble.

  I broke the rules.
/>   I defiled the sacred Crellid code by stepping foot outside of the estate without Fabio's permission.

  And now I was being punished for my crimes, being taught a hard lesson on where a woman ranked in the grand scheme of things.

  At the bottom.

  Lower than the dogs.

  Upon my return from my little excursion to the church, I had been seized by Fabio's guards and snatched away from my glorified owner – who, I presumed, received a glorious scolding for not controlling his unruly whore.

  Worst of all, Trigger didn’t put up a fight when they dragged me, kicking and screaming, off his cock.

  He let them take me.

  He didn’t even bat an eyelid.

  With his seed still dripping from my thighs, he let those men carry me away, not bothering to remove his Ray Bans while he watched them take me.

  He didn’t even flinch.

  He was a cold-hearted, emotionless bastard, with a stone in place of a heart.

  The guards had taken me to the underground level of the compound, where I was left completely unprotected and vulnerable.

  Beaten until I was black and blue and stripped naked, Fabio's guards had then hosed me down with frigid water, washing the fight out of my body, right along with the tiny scrap of dignity I'd been wrestling to hold onto.

  Degraded and numb, I had curled up in a ball on the floor and waited for Trigger to burst into the room and gun the bastards down.

  He never came.

  Instead, I was forced to dress in the standard uniform for the working whores, a lace bra and thong, before being dragged down a narrow, stone corridor and tossed into this very windowless, cage-like room.

  Every night, my door was opened and the guards presented me to potential clients, who, along with the guards, enjoyed terrorizing me until my sanity threatened to snap, before being informed that I was still a claimed whore.

  Apparently, I was still the property of the bastard prince and, until Fabio and Trigger came to an agreement on how to deal with my unacceptable disobedience, I could not be rented or bought.

  Six long days and even longer nights had passed by without so much as a glimpse of Trigger.

  Not once had he come down to see if I was alive or dead, starving or raped, and not once had I stopped plotting my revenge.