Spouting about duty was all well and good when Keltor was talking with Veljan. However, with Azalyn in the room, everything else seemed to vanish.
Before he could convince himself of why not to do it, Keltor leaned close until their faces were a few inches apart. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Your eye twitches when you lie, and it’s doing it now.”
To her credit, Azalyn didn’t raise a hand to still the small tic. “I’m not the lovesick seventeen-year-old girl who was swayed by your intelligence and good looks. I’ve changed, as have you. Don’t pretend to know me and my idiosyncrasies. Because we’re strangers, Keltor. Just as it should be.”
He most definitely didn’t like her referring to him as a stranger. “I still say you’re lying.”
She tilted her head. “Oh? Then prove it, your highness.”
There were a million reasons why Keltor should walk away and wash his hands of Azalyn. He’d hurt her, and he had no idea if he could ever make up for that pain. In addition, she wasn’t born and bred royalty or even a politician’s daughter. She’d always speak her mind and push boundaries. The public, not to mention the councilors, wouldn’t accept her.
And yet as her hot breath danced across his lips, all he could think about was tasting her wildness. With Azalyn, there wouldn’t be any platitudes or false words to mollify a prince. No, she’d let him know what she was feeling and speak her mind, no matter if it’d upset him or not.
A long-buried desire bubbled to the surface. Veljan was the only person to speak freely with him, and Keltor craved more of the directness, so much more.
So for the first time in years, Keltor forgot about being a prince and taking care of the planet. He cupped Azalyn’s face and did what he wanted—he kissed her.
Chapter Four
Azalyn had wanted Keltor to both kiss her and to walk out the door. Both outcomes had downsides, but him leaving would be the easiest path for all.
But damn the prince, he took her face in his warm hands and closed the distance between their lips.
She should be angry at him. Abandoning her, all but forcing her to give up their child, and a life of near-exile all traced back to Keltor claiming her virginity and then letting her go.
However, as his firm lips moved against hers, years of pent-up desire rushed forth. More than that, Keltor’s taste was familiar. One she’d dreamt of for years before the memories had grown hazy.
His tongue swiped between her lips, and she nearly moaned. While he was more confident and demanding than the last time they’d kissed, she rather liked it. Keltor was no longer a teenage boy. No, he was a grown male.
He took the kiss deeper, with firm strokes and nibbles on her bottom lip. Giving in to the moment, she raised a hand and tentatively touched his hair. The action spurred a growl that sent a shiver down her spine, in a good way.
The rational thing would be to break the kiss and push him away. She had enough complications in her life with Kelzal.
Then his hand ran over her shoulder and down to her hip. Her skin came alive at his touch. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.
She tried moving so that she could press her chest against him, but a sharp pain erupted in her lower belly and raced through her body. She couldn’t help but cry out.
Keltor retreated a few inches and searched her eyes. “What’s wrong? Should I call the doctor?”
She took a deep breath, and the pain eased a fraction. “No, I just need to take it easy.”
As they stared into one another’s eyes, Azalyn willed for Keltor to kiss her again. She wanted her last kiss with him to be free of pain or awkwardness.
Or, if she were completely honest, she wanted to glimpse the old wildness they’d once shared.
However, Keltor stood, putting more space between them. “I’m sorry, Aza. I was selfish. You need to heal. I’ll have a nurse check on you right after I leave.”
Before she could say a word, Keltor strode out of the room.
The door closed and Azalyn tried to process what had just happened. For a brief second, she’d glimpsed the unrestrained male that was Keltor. Not the prince, not the heir to the throne, but just a hungry male. Whatever else might’ve changed, one thing was for sure—she was still attracted to him.
Yes, that had to be the explanation for her actions—attraction. There was no logical way to have a future together.
Even if he earned her trust again, which would be a huge undertaking, Keltor would never risk the safety of Keldera. And even if he did, Azalyn would never be able to live with herself if Keltor choosing her resulted in war. The antimonarchy faction grew in numbers by the day and would love nothing more than an opportunity to strike and take down the royal family.
Which now included Kelzal.
No. Kissing Keltor once out of curiosity was fine. But it couldn’t happen again. She had a son to protect.
The difficulty would be in keeping her distance and refusing him if he ever tried to kiss her again.
If, and it was a big if, Keltor ever did decide he wanted her, consequences be damned, it was going to take every bit of stubbornness she possessed to ward him off.
But ward him off she would. She’d given up Kelzal and all responsibility once. It was time to put her son first and be the best mother she could. That now meant working toward a peaceful future on Keldera, and that meant helping Keltor to find a bride who could make that happen.
~~~
Keltor wished he was the sort of male who merely sought out a willing Barren—one of the infertile females who sometimes helped around the palace—when his body demanded sexual gratification.
But since he wasn’t, he had spent the last fifteen minutes in his private recreation room, wrestling a computer-generated opponent. In the past, exercise had almost always worked to tame his lust. He found it more fulfilling than pleasuring himself.
However, his hard cock hadn’t softened at all. Even as he tossed his opponent across the simulated arena, all Keltor could think about was the opponent morphing into Azalyn and him taking her against the wall.
Her taste had been as sweet as he’d remembered, if not sweeter. Add in her older boldness and fuller form compared to when she was younger, and he’d nearly come from a kiss. His body still wanted Azalyn regardless of consequences, that was for sure.
His opponent raced toward him, and Keltor stepped to the side before jumping the hard-light hologram from behind. A swift tug and they both tumbled to the ground. The opponent managed to flip Keltor over, but then Keltor swung his legs up, wrapped them around the hologram’s neck, and reversed their positions. After a few seconds, the opponent yielded.
“Computer, end program,” Keltor stated.
The opponent and arena faded to the gray walls of his private recreation room.
Keltor retrieved a towel from a hidden compartment and wiped the sweat from his body. Thanks to the tight trousers worn by all Kelderan males of higher status, each movement caused friction against his cock that made him groan.
“Get a grip on yourself, Keltor. You’re a male of forty-two, not a boy of eighteen.”
But as tended to happen, his cock didn’t care about reason, let alone age.
Since he had to go over a few documents before his scheduled dinner with Kelzal and Azalyn, Keltor was going to have to take care of himself. He didn’t have time for his hormones to cool on their own.
Heading into his cleaning room, Keltor stripped and engaged the spray chamber. As he stepped under the hot cleaning solution, he closed his eyes and gripped his pulsing cock. He stroked once and hissed at the sensation.
Drawing on the memory of Azalyn’s soft body under his fingers, he increased his pace. Soon his tame memory turned into her on all fours, arching her back as he thrust into her from behind. Unlike his few other experiences, she didn’t act reserved around him because he was a prince. In his vision, she moaned for him to take her harder.
He’d barely began to play ou
t his fantasy when his balls tightened and he came. Pleasure wracked his body to the point it was almost painful.
Spent, Keltor braced himself against the spray room wall.
Not for the first time he wondered how fate could’ve given him a shopkeeper’s daughter as a potential destined bride. He’d fought the truth before, but Kelzal’s existence proved the point. Very few females could bear the royal line a child because of a genetic defect. Only a potential destined bride had the ability.
However, most of the population didn’t know that little secret. And he’d never been brave enough to tell Azalyn the truth since he’d simply wanted her to want Keltor for himself.
He wondered if he had done so, maybe things might have turned out differently. She may have never given herself to him, and then she’d have lived the life she should have done, without him.
Curling his fingers into a fist, he allowed anger and guilt to flow through his body at the thought. Azalyn had been his brief glimpse of happiness. And, he had a feeling, his only chance to have it once again.
The only question was whether he would risk it all to claim her as he should’ve done twenty-three years ago, or did he take a bride to ease political tensions and never experience the passion he sensed lying within Azalyn.
After all, every royal had more than one potential destined bride. While he hadn’t found one among more politically suitable candidates yet, he was certain one existed. Kelzal might be his heir, but the first rule of being in line to the throne was to have several possible successors, to project stability to the people of Keldera.
When his cleaning solution ceased spraying, Keltor exited the room and prepared himself for both his official duties and his upcoming dinner with Azalyn. He could at least enjoy one meal with his pseudo-family before diving back into official duties. After all, he had a rich, well-connected female to welcome to the palace the following day.
Not that he had high hopes for the woman, given what he knew of her father. But as always, duty called.
~~~
Kelzal Burrig put aside his latest project, an undetectable transmitter that could bypass palace security, and paced the room.
He was due to leave and have dinner with his birth mother and the prince in the next few minutes. But as he walked the length of his quarters and turned back again, he had something more pressing on his mind than even how behind he was in his research.
A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing his deepest, dearest secret. But with the possibility looming over his head of his birth mother being sent away and Kelzal losing the chance to better know the female who had given him life, he was starting to think Azalyn needed to hear the full truth.
Because while she’d known and kept track of his existence, there was more to it.
Per Kelderan custom, females who decide upon giving their child up for adoption were denied both ultrasounds and to hear fetal heartbeats. And in Azalyn’s case, the birth had been difficult, and she’d been unconscious during her surgery to bring Kelzal into the world.
Except it had been more than just Kelzal—Azalyn had carried twins.
During that time, her new foster family—the Sulanis—had made a decision about Kelzal’s twin sister. She’d been given to a distant Sulani relative and continued to live with them to this day, never wiser as to the true identity of their mother. Kelzal wasn’t sure of the reason why Azalyn had never been told of her second child, but no doubt the head of the Sulani family had his reasons, as he always did.
While Kelzal had never been able to find a picture of his birth mother, let alone her name, his sister had sought him out a few years ago.
She hadn’t known Azalyn’s details, either, but her adopted family had explained to her on her eighteenth birthday that she had a twin brother and had shared Kelzal’s information. Strange that he had never received the information; maybe his personality and tendency to speak the truth had made the Sulanis wary to share it.
Regardless, the first meeting with his sister was a memory he thought about often. He hadn’t believed her, of course, since she’d had lavender skin and golden hair and looked nothing like him. Granted, fraternal twins often didn’t look alike, but Kelzal never trusted a statement until it could be proven.
And once the DNA test had done so, he’d tried his best to form a relationship with his sister, Toralyn. Kelzal had a hard time reading social cues or emotions, but Toralyn didn’t seem to mind. She’d simply loved having a sibling. Over the last four years, they’d shared monthly video chats, and his next scheduled one was due in two days.
Hence trying to find a way around the palace’s security. Kelzal didn’t want to be a prince or to be forced into a political world that would cause anxiety as he struggled to determine who was truthful or deceitful. But to force that life on Toralyn would be even worse. She was female and princesses were often treated as property, to be married off and form alliances.
His smiling, bold sister didn’t deserve that life.
The decision to keep Toralyn’s existence a secret should be an easy one. However, Azalyn had risked her life back on the Tallarian ship to protect Kelzal. Not only that, she had nearly died as a result. To not tell her about her other child sat heavy in Kelzal’s stomach. He would always love his adopted parents, but they were both dead. Azalyn might be his only chance to have a family again and keeping secrets wasn’t the best start to building a relationship.
His notescreen chimed its alarm, telling him it was time to leave for dinner.
As he made his way toward Azalyn’s hospital room, Kelzal made his decision. He’d tell Azalyn and only her about his sister’s existence, but she first had to promise to keep it from the prince. Kelzal refused to give that male another pawn to use in his game.
Some might say his hatred was overblown. But he’d seen his fair share of females tossed out of families because of one dalliance with a male that had led to an unwanted pregnancy. Even employers overlooked the qualifications of such females and focused only on what was considered disgraceful in Kelderan culture.
Kelzal hadn’t been aware of the problem until one interview several years ago. The female had been intelligent and easily the most qualified for the position. So when she’d cried at the news of being selected, even he had sensed something was wrong. Her story had come out about her illegitimate son and her struggle to find work.
After that, Kelzal had dedicated his tech firm to hiring qualified females, regardless of what had happened personally in their pasts. SHIELD Tech was one of the few companies that even considered females for higher-level positions. From Kelzal’s point of view, genitals or gender made little difference. Skill and ability were all that mattered. So if other firms were too ignorant to realize that, it was his gain. And since everyone decried him a genius, SHIELD Tech allowed him to do what he wished as long as it increased profits.
Arriving outside Azalyn’s room, he pressed his finger to the touchpad scanner. He was going to do everything he could to drive the prince out of the room so that he could talk with his birth mother. Because he wanted to share his secret with her. Azalyn had experienced a lot of hardship in her life, partially because of him. He wanted her to smile since a smile usually signaled happiness. Maybe showing his sister’s image and talking about her would trigger the positive response in Azalyn.
Given everything she’d done to keep him from being raised a prince, it was the least he could do.
Chapter Five
Azalyn awoke at the sound of the door chime. The computer stated, “Kelzal Burrig.”
“Allow entry,” she answered with a yawn.
The door opened, and Azalyn admired the tall form of her son. It was still strange to think of him as such, but he was. At least something good had come out of her time with Keltor all those years ago.
Kelzal looked around the room before he spoke, “Where’s the prince?”
“He sent his apologies and will be an hour late.”
Pulling up
a chair, Kelzal whispered, “Secure the room against any entry.”
As her son tapped his fingers against his thigh and kept his gaze trained behind him, she didn’t hesitate to say, “Computer, secure room. Only a level ten override can enter.”
Level ten meant only the worst-case scenario—such as an invasion or palace takeover—and would allow anyone, even Prince Keltor, from opening the door.
“Understood.” The computer paused a second before stating, “Room is secure.”
Sitting up in her bed, Azalyn said, “Tell me what’s wrong, Kelzal.” He continued to drum his fingers, but didn’t respond. She softened her voice, “Kelzal.”
His green eyes finally met her own. “I want to tell you a secret.”
Happiness bubbled inside her chest. While Kelzal wanting to confide in her was a small thing, it signaled he was starting to trust her. She might never be able to get back his childhood, but she wanted as much time with him as she could in the future. “I’m pretty good at keeping them, as you well know.”
It was risky to joke about giving him up for adoption and hiding it from Keltor, but Azalyn wasn’t going to hide who she was. She’d had more than enough years of doing that and was through with it.
Nodding, Kelzal whispered, “I know. But this is one you must keep from him. Can you do that?”
“I wish you’d give Keltor a chance.”
“That is not what I wish to discuss. If you can’t keep something from him, then I’ll wait until you can. Because I have a feeling he will use this knowledge against you and hurt you once more.”
The Heir Page 4
