Stormy Nights (Storms of Blackwood Book 2)

by Elle Middaugh

I laughed. "For this? This isn’t your fault. No apologies necessary."

  He turned away. "Yeah, but it’s the Storm King’s fault. And—"

  "—And as such, no one else’s," I finished, trying to rid him of his guilt. "Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean his actions reflect on you or who you are as a person. I’m sure the other princes will teach you that."

  He scoffed and leaned against the nearest stone wall. "The Storm Princes hate me. They always have."

  I cocked my head. "But you just got here. You haven’t even met them yet. How could they hate you?"

  "We’ve met before."

  "Oh," I said stupidly. "Well, now that you’re one of them, I’m sure they’ll take you under their wing. They did that with Alexis."

  He shot me a flat look. "Alexis is beautiful, and she has a vagina. I’m pretty sure that puts us in two very different categories as far as the Storms are concerned."

  I cracked up laughing, accidentally bumping into that stupid suit of armor again. It wobbled on its iron legs, and just before I could catch it, it fell the hell over and crashed to the floor. The sound echoed through the hallway like the Storm King had just murdered a box of cymbals.

  "Oh fuck," I muttered.

  Well, I’d been looking to start a fight with the king. I had a feeling this would do just fine.

  See, that was the last part of the plan. Piss the Storm King off, make him draw blood, then stage our exit in the form of an untimely death via wolf attack. The idea was that my blood would draw the beast in, and it would kill us both in a sort of bloodlust frenzy. I thought it was genius, really. Tris had really outdone himself.

  As the sound of footsteps echoed on the stairs behind me, I smiled fleetingly at Chrissen and waved. "See ya later, Prince Criss."

  He swallowed hard and glanced between me and the mess of armor on the floor. "Would you like some help with that?"

  I shook my head and waved him off. "Nah, that’s the sound of my servant buddies coming to help clean up. Go ahead. I’ll catch you some other time."

  He hesitated for a moment then eventually nodded, bowing slightly at me before heading down the hall in the opposite direction.

  "Oh, and, Prince Criss?" I called out at the last second. He turned around with a raised brow. "Princes don’t bow to servants. They’re too good for that."

  He scoffed and shook his head. "I’m not too good for anything."

  Then he disappeared around the corner.

  Poor guy. He was taking his new fate better than his mother was but still not all that well.

  As the footsteps drew nearer, I glanced out one of the arched hallway windows, watching as the sun dipped down below the trees. It was almost dark, almost time to leave... forever. Hopefully this beating wouldn't take long.

  A hiss left the Storm King’s mouth when he found me standing next to the pile of broken armor. "What have you done, you clumsy cunt?"

  I spun around, a surprised smile on my face. "Well, hello, Your Majesty. Fancy seeing you here. I was just walking by, minding my own business, when this suit of armor just viciously attacked me."

  "It attacked you." It wasn’t a question, and he sounded neither surprised nor enthused. His hand found the back of my neck, and he squeezed painfully. "I’m about to viciously attack you."

  "Over a fallen metal statue?" I hissed, bunching my shoulders up to block some of the sting. "I mean, I expected you to punish me, because that’s your thing, but viciously? You don’t think it’s a little much?"

  He pinched my neck even harder, momentarily making me see spots. I didn’t even realize that was possible.

  "No, stupid girl. The vicious part belongs to your lying, smart-ass mouth that has no fucking clue when to shut up. Maybe if we send Alexis your tongue in a package, she’ll creep out of hiding and do her godsdamned duty for once!"

  "No, no," I begged, feeling genuine fear swim through me. "That’s not necessary, Your Majesty. I’ll... I’ll stop. I won’t say another word."

  He chuckled darkly. "We’ll see about that."

  Numb.

  That’s how I felt by the time he was done. That’s all I felt. I knew that pain was searing white-hot across every inch of my skin, but it was so hot and so painful that it somehow left me feeling cold and numb instead. It was a complicated sensation, one I’d prayed to the gods to take away, but of course, they didn’t listen.

  I staggered through the palace hallways, dizzy and bleary eyed. I needed to get to the gardens; it’s the only thing I could concentrate on. But how the hell was I supposed to travel like this? I honestly didn’t know if I’d survive it. Because of that, however, I was more determined than ever to try.

  I didn’t want to live like this anymore. I almost said couldn’t, but that wasn’t true. The harem ladies were proof of that. Anyone could live a life of incessant torture if they had to, but if they didn’t have to, why should they? The queens did it in order to keep their sons safe—or at least that’s how they felt. But Alexis was not my child, and I knew she would be fine with or without me. As my best friend in the entire world, I also knew she would forgive me and understand why I left... if she knew.

  I closed my eyes as a wave of nausea assaulted me.

  She wouldn’t know. She’d believe me to be dead, just like everyone else. I couldn’t tell a single soul about mine and Tristan’s plan—not even Alexis—or the whole thing might unravel before we could even leave the kingdom.

  When I reached the stairs, the dizziness kicked my ass, causing me to tumble to the next floor down. I hissed as sharp pain burned across my skin and the dull ache of bone-deep bruises settled in further.

  Get up, Gemma. Get. Up.

  I crawled to my feet, using the wall for support, glancing at the blood smeared across the stairs in my wake. When I released the wall, two scarlet handprints remained. I thought about smearing them, trying to erase the evidence of their existence, but what was the point? It’d probably help sell the story anyway.

  Stumbling, I hobbled through more hallways until I finally reached the door that led to the gardens. Outside, the moon was nowhere to be found. It was pitch-black, and coupled with my dizzied and disoriented state, that made it nearly impossible to navigate. I crashed to the grassy ground more times than I could count, and every time I stood back up, I was even more confused about where I was going.

  This was so not part of the plan. If anyone other than Tristan saw me and tried to help, everything would go to shit. We couldn’t leave behind witnesses. We’d discussed the necessity of knocking people off if they saw us, but I’d simply resolved to not get caught. Problem solved. Now there I was, stumbling through the castle grounds like a newborn calf who was already halfway to becoming a plate of veal.

  "Gemma!" a voice hissed into the black. I spun around and tried to think of a solid hiding place because I was terrified of who might’ve spotted me. I had no idea where the voice had come from and no idea where I was going, but I dropped to the ground on my hands and knees and crawled as fast as I could, trying to get away.

  Gods, the pain was excruciating. My limbs shook with every little movement. My skin fevered like a plague. My stomach churned like I might throw up when the voice called out again.

  "Gemma, is that you?"

  My heart hammered, and I panted wildly, the influx of oxygen intensifying my urge to vomit.

  "Gem, it’s me, Tristan."

  I sucked in a shaky breath and turned in the direction I thought I’d heard his voice coming from.

  "Tris?"

  "Yeah, Gem, over here." It was dark, but I was pretty sure I could see the vaguest outline of him motioning me over.

  I fumbled around on my hands and knees until I somehow, miraculously reached him. He grabbed my arms to help me up, but the pain that the move inflicted was enough to make me gag.

  "Please don’t touch me," I hissed through clenched teeth.

  He removed his hands immediately, staying silent for a moment. "How hurt are you?"

>   I grimaced and nodded to myself since he probably couldn’t see me through the dark. "Not too bad."

  "I thought you were only going to pick a small fight with the king?" he asked, seeing right through my little white lie.

  I sighed. "I tried, but he’s insane."

  "Did you pack your medicinal supplies?"

  I nodded. "They should already be in the rucksack. You grabbed it, right?"

  "Yeah. I just need to scatter the evidence; then we’ll be good to go. As soon as we’re far enough away, we’ll stop and tend those wounds, so they don’t get infected. Then we’ll keep heading west until we reach the boat."

  I swallowed hard, feeling sweat cling to my brow and hairline. The fever was raging hotter. I hoped beyond hope I could make it that far.

  Tristan immediately got to work. He sprinkled tufts of fur onto the ground, along with a couple scraps of cloth and a few strands of my long blonde hair. He even situated a fang or two. And after all that, he speckled the area with blood.

  Like I said, we were trying to make the whole thing look like a wolf attack. This was my theory: the Storm King didn’t want people knowing how sadistic and fucked-up he truly was, so he wouldn’t admit to drawing my blood; instead, he’d gratefully cling to blaming the wolf so that he had no part of it; but deep down, he’d believe it happened because of him. With any luck, he’d be too busy feigning his innocence that he wouldn’t even consider it was a ploy.

  Luck. Right. Exactly what no one in Blackwood seemed to have. Still, I tried to remain optimistic. Even at death’s doorstep, I had to stay positive. Otherwise, who the hell even was Gemma Darrow anymore?

  "It’s done," Tris whispered, taking my hand. "Let’s go."

  I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth against the all-encompassing pain, and followed him into the woods.

  The scene had been set.

  Now, all I had to do was survive.

  Chapter 26

  ALEXIS

  The sun had already set by the time our horses cantered into the Blackwood citadel.

  Much like the first time we arrived, there appeared to be a large gathering of people at the palace. Unlike the first time, however, they didn’t seem to be waiting on us. Thank the gods. There were empty carriages and patient coachmen reading newspapers lined up and down the streets as far as the eye could see, and the sound of elegant music filtered in between the houses, shops, and trees.

  I glanced at Cal, and he smiled back in relief. "A ball."

  "Yeah," Dan agreed, licking his bottom lip as he thought, "but for what?"

  "Or for who?" Ben specified, as if he already had a suspicion about the recipient’s identity.

  If that were the case, then he had to have been assuming it was for Chrissen. And if the Storm King was throwing a ball on behalf of his bastard son, then he clearly somehow knew about the link he had with us.

  "Do you think he knows?" Rob asked, taking the words right out of my mouth.

  Ash was nervous. Anyone else would probably think he looked determined or angry, but I could tell he was rattled beneath his thin lips and narrowed brows. "If he knows about Criss, then he probably knows about me."

  Ben shook his head. "Not necessarily."

  "And we’re not going to assume that he does, either," Cal added. "We’re going to play it safe, just like we have been, and have you take on your animal form while we’re here."

  "Don’t go anywhere near him," Rob added, glaring at his brother for emphasis as he squeezed his horse’s reins. "He’s even more of a psycho than you remember."

  Ash rolled his amber eyes but nodded. "Fine. I’ll stay in bird form, and I’ll keep far away from our dickhead father. But you guys have to promise to stay safe. If I feel a tug on the bond, you can bet your asses I’ll be there to save you in an instant."

  Dan chuckled darkly. "You better feel more than a tug before you ride in on your shiny white horse," he teased. "Because I can pretty much assure you there will be a lot of pushing and pulling during this cute little visit. There always is. That man drives us to the brink of our very sanity every fucking time."

  "It’s true," Rob agreed, crossing his tattooed arms in his saddle.

  Ash sighed and dismounted with poise. "What are you going to tell the stable boys about the extra horse?"

  Cal shrugged. "That I bought my wife a second horse because she loves the beasts so much."

  Ash glared at him, as did Rob and Dan, while Ben just looked away.

  "You love rubbing that in, don’t you?" the Shifter Prince asked.

  "What?"

  "That she’s your wife."

  "No," Cal defended in an even tone. "It’s just true. That’s exactly what I’m going to say to the stable boy. You asked. I answered."

  This was not a good situation. I could feel the electric tension in the air; there was too much hostility building. I quickly slipped down from my horse’s back and got between Cal and the others.

  "It’s not his fault he was forced to marry me," I explained gently. "Just as it’s not my fault I was forced to marry him. I wish I hadn’t been coerced into it, but the Storm King doesn’t give any fucks about my wishes, and neither do the gods. I made a promise to you guys, though. I promised that the piece of paper would mean nothing, that it wouldn’t change the way I felt about you or how I treated you. I think I’ve kept my word in that regard.

  "But I also promised that if I married one of you, I would marry all of you. If the Storm King can legally wed more than one person, then so can I. Say the word, and I’ll start making good on those promises. I’ll marry each of you, one by one. Who wants to be next?"

  To my surprise, they didn’t just brush my words off as nothing more than hot air. They actually sat there on their horses—or stood there on their feet, as was the case with Asher—and genuinely thought about the question and the consequential answer.

  I was sure each of them wanted it to be themselves, but they were trying to be smart and fair about it, and I loved that about them. The selfless way they all contributed to our dynamic was magical in and of itself.

  Even though the very idea of the word marriage set my teeth on edge, I had to admit, being married to Cal had changed absolutely nothing. It wasn’t as strange or awkward or detrimental as I'd feared it would be to my life or my existence. In fact, I was actually looking forward to going through with it four more times.

  Dan took a deep breath and nodded, wordlessly volunteering to speak first. "I think it should be Ben."

  "Me?" Ben asked in surprise, putting a hand on his chest, exactly mirroring his words and movements from days ago when we stood before the Eristani king.

  A cheeky half smile lit up Dan’s face. "Yeah, you. You’re at highest risk right now, thanks to King Solomon taking such a liking to you. If you don’t marry Alexis soon, who knows what sort of deal the kings will make behind our backs? You might find yourself promised to Camilla, after all."

  Ash groaned. "I know it makes sense to choose Ben, but I’ve been dying to marry Alexis for years. Can we not just give me this one victory without me having to kill myself to earn it first?"

  Rob’s hardened features softened at his brother’s plea. "Let’s talk about this more later," he said, gently kicking his horse into a trot. "We need to get this meeting with our father over with so that we can get the fuck out of here."

  Cal grabbed the reins of Ash’s horse, while Ash helped me back up into my saddle. He grinned, skimming the bare skin of my thigh with his warm hands. "I love that you don’t ride sidesaddle."

  I scoffed teasingly. "Why would I? I’m awful enough on a horse without having to be sideways as a disadvantage. And if you’re talking about me spreading my legs in an unladylike manner, well then, we have nothing to discuss. Women should be able to sit however they want without a man feeling entitled to slip between her legs."

  "What if I was the man who wanted to slip between your legs?" Ash asked in a low and seductive tone.

  I glanced up ahead, to wher
e the guys were already moving along, slowly leaving me behind. My gaze slid back over to Asher, and a grin crept onto my lips. "That’s different."

  He chuckled and gave my horse a quick pat, kicking us into motion. I watched him over my shoulder as he winked and started fading into gold dust.

  "I love you, Sweets," he shouted to me when he was already halfway gone.

  I took a deep breath, and excitement filled me. I was finally able to say it back. "I love you too, Asher Storm."

  He smiled wide, dimples appearing in each one of his cheeks; then they disappeared just as quickly as he finished turning into a bird. He spread his brown wings wide and took to the air, soaring up ahead of me to glide past his brothers on his way toward the palace. He might have agreed to stay away from the Storm King, but I had a feeling he’d at least want to see his mother.

  "Son of a fucking bitch!" one of the guys cried out, scaring the living hell out of me.

  I thrashed Caramel’s reins, and she tore into a gallop, catching up to them rather quickly.

  "What?" I shouted, my eyes following everyone else’s gaze over to Ben, who sat cringing with his eyes closed, his whole body rigid. "What the fuck is going on? Is he okay?"

  Ben’s nostrils flared as he took a deep, calming breath. "That fucking bird... shit on me."

  Dan immediately burst into a fit of laughter, almost falling off his horse. Even Rob chuckled, but Cal merely grinned and said, "I guess he doesn’t like having you as competition for Alexis’s hand."

  "Oh, it’s on now," Ben threatened, and considering I’d never really seen much of a competitive side to him, I was a little turned on by his fire. "He’s going down. And so help me gods, if I get Swamp-ass Fever, I am going to rub my blistered ass all over his cheeky face."

  "Ooh!" Dan groaned, putting a fist to his mouth as he fought a disgusted chuckle. "That’s fucking nasty."

  "You bet it is," Ben agreed, narrowing his eyes. "Ash knows how I feel about germs and diseases, and he still crossed that fucking line."

  "You know he’ll just say it was a bird-like instinct," Rob said, smirking.