Royal Elite Epilogue: Royal Elite Book Seven

by Kent, Rina

  “No, I was merely being a good sport so you won’t have tan lines, not that anyone would see them.” He lowers his head and sucks on the tender flesh of my breast, leaving a hot red mark.

  I arch my back, my eyes closing. This has always been our favourite parts; he loves marking me in places only he can see and I love staring at the marks he leaves on my body.

  He lifts his head and his eyes hold mine hostage. I’m constantly in awe of the way he looks at me, the way he wants me, the way he never stares at anyone else but me.

  It’s not just about the sex or the kinks, it’s about how he holds me to him for no reason other than to feel me near. It’s about how he reads to me every night with my head lying on his lap, and if I fall asleep, he hugs me close and sleeps with his lips sealed to my forehead.

  It’s about him and me and the long journey we took so we could finally be together in front of the whole world.

  I wind my arms around his neck and stroke the hairs at his nape. “You’re my world, Cole.”

  “I know.”

  “No, I mean it. You’re my entire world and I don’t know how I’d ever be able to live in it without you.”

  “You won’t have to, because you won’t be able to get rid of me, Butterfly. You’re my chaos, remember?”

  “And your calm?”

  “And my calm.”

  “And your love?”

  He smiles, and I nearly faint here and now. “And my love.”

  “I love you so much. Now and forever, husband.”

  “And I love you, wife.”

  IV

  The Pregnancy

  16

  Levi

  Age Twenty-three

  I throw my bag on the sofa and head to the kitchen to grab some water.

  The practice was fucking exhausting today. I satisfied my usual need for adrenaline and more.

  Now, I just want to snuggle with my beautiful wife and watch one of those gory films she loves so much. Other women enjoy romcoms, but mine is obsessed with weird shit. I love her even more for her eclectic taste.

  After taking a sip of water, I stop with the bottle halfway to my mouth. The door to the art studio is open.

  Usually when I return home early, I have to mope in front of it like a fucking idiot until she comes out. I respect her need for alone time so that she can create masterpieces. Besides, Astrid always says I’m distracting, so I try to stay out of the way. The keyword being ‘try’.

  The fact that the door is now open is wrong. I place the bottle on the counter and go inside. Did Daniel come by? But he’s in the States. He and Knox, Ronan’s brother-in-law, formed some sort of friendship that’s based on shagging their way through the American female population and decided to stay in the States even after they finished college. Astrid would’ve told me if Daniel was coming back, and even if she hadn’t, I would’ve sensed it, considering she spends the entire week out of her skin with excitement.

  That means Daniel is out of the way.

  I don’t think it’s Elsa or my uncle’s wife either since they’re with Aiden and Jonathan at the latter’s island. Astrid and I skipped because I had practice and Astrid was...unwell.

  That’s what she told Aurora, my uncle’s wife, when she talked to her on the phone last night. I vaguely remember the word ‘unwell’ and I thought it was a dream.

  My feet are heavy as I step into the art studio. The smell of paint and charcoal hits my nostrils, and I stop at the threshold to catch my breathing.

  It’s nothing. It’ll be nothing.

  My Astrid is stronger than the world and everything in it. There’s no way she’s that unwell.

  I stop when I find her standing in front of the mirror. She has one here for when she sketches my nudes. She says it’s so she can get all possible angles. Usually, I end up fucking her in front of it because I want her to see us from all possible angles.

  Right now, though, she doesn’t seem to be sketching or anything.

  Her face is pale as she holds her tank top to underneath her breasts and gazes at the mirror with a blank stare.

  “Astrid…” I murmur, my voice low and translating the turmoil that’s whirling inside me.

  She startles before she releases her tank top and faces me, a faint smile on her face. It’s still pale, her cheeks missing all their colour.

  I reach her in two steps and cup her chin, then look at her intently. Has she been getting sick and I didn’t notice it?

  That shouldn’t happen. I watch her more than I watch anything in this world — myself included.

  Her well-being comes before anything else.

  “What’s wrong, Princess?”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” She’s still smiling.

  “Don’t try to escape this. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Why would you think there’s something wrong with me?”

  “Because you’re not painting and you’re pale and you told Aurora you’re fucking unwell. Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. “I should’ve noticed it before.”

  “I don’t think you could’ve. Not when I didn’t know myself.” She takes my hand, making me release my hair, and smooths the strands with her other palm.

  This is why Astrid is my calm. She doesn’t allow me to get sucked into the black hole that only manages to push me into a vicious cycle. She always pulls me away before I’m dragged inside.

  “You didn’t know what?” I ask in a barely audible voice. My shoulder blades snap together with fucking fear. The thought that something could happen to her drives me bonkers.

  I just need to know what it is so I can fix it. Surely Jonathan can threaten a doctor or two, or an entire fucking hospital, if needed.

  “Don’t be agitated, Lev. I only confirmed it this morning.”

  “Confirmed what?”

  She swallows, her delicate throat moving with the motion.

  “Princess, I’m barely holding on here, so any day now.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  The words reach my ears, but it takes me a few seconds to absorb them. “So you’re not sick?”

  “Sick? No. I have some nausea, but it’s nothing bad.”

  “Right.”

  “Right?” She scowls, her brow furrowing. “That’s all you have to say? Aren’t you...happy?”

  “Of course I am, but I’m happier that you’re healthy, Princess. I nearly lost my heart thinking you were sick or some shit. Are you healthy?”

  She bites her lower lip. “I think so. We need to go to the doctor since I only took a few tests.”

  I hold her hand. “Let’s go right now. I’ll ask Aiden for Elsa’s OB-GYN. If she can handle Aiden’s late night calls, she can handle mine.”

  “Wait.” She tugs on my fingers, making me stop and face her again. “Aren’t you mad that this happened without a plan? We wanted to wait, and then this came along. I think it’s because of that one time I missed the pill.”

  “Why would I be mad, Princess?” I place my hand on her stomach, and even though there’s no bump or anything, I feel a sense of belonging already. “As long as you’re happy, I’m more than ready for this. Are you? Happy, I mean?”

  She nods frantically, holding on to my hand that’s on her stomach. “I didn’t know I wanted this so badly until I saw the positive line on the test. I want to be the mother of your children, Levi.”

  I grin. “The mother of my children. I like that.”

  “You do?”

  “Fuck right, I do.” I kiss her lips to the point that she’s breathless when I release her. “Now, let’s make sure you’re healthy.”

  17

  Elsa

  Age Twenty-one

  “As I was saying, you can’t argue with me using some theory. Be an actual nerd and prove it in real time.”

  Aiden stares at our classmates with his signature poker face. I swear he’s become even more tenacious about hiding his emotions.

  I’m lucky I met him at eighteen, because twenty-
one-year-old Aiden would’ve driven me bonkers.

  Scratch that. He does, but I know him well enough to counter him at every turn now. I don’t always win, but the challenge is worth it.

  Our colleagues stare at him with questions and no answers.

  Only Aiden would call university students nerds to their faces. When I told him not to do that, he said he’s a firm believer in calling things by their names.

  “Anyone?” he challenges. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

  He’s lucky Cole isn’t here. It would’ve morphed into a full-blown war if he was, and we’d be all sitting here watching them argue all night.

  No one ever wins, but Aiden keeps insisting he takes it easy on him.

  “Actually, there’s one.” A sinister voice comes from my right. His American accent differentiates him immediately.

  I groan even before the twat joins the circle. I thought we were lucky tonight since Cole had things to take care of.

  Turns out, no.

  “What are you even doing here?” I ask. “You don’t belong to this club.”

  “I do now.” Deep green eyes fill with mischief as he waves his access card. “I had to be where all the cool kids go. Isn’t that right, Pres?”

  Our debate club president, Oliver, nods at the American’s charming grin.

  I roll my eyes. The only reason he joined is to challenge Aiden and Cole. I swear they attract lunatics like this American as if they were magnets.

  Even Aiden didn’t join the club out of goodwill. I joined first and he just slid in because ‘he was interested’.

  Interested, my arse. More like he wants to be here to shoo the flies away, as he calls them.

  Aiden’s possessiveness knows no limits. He doesn’t like how close I am to the other club members, so he barged in to make their lives hell. He can be so frustratingly argumentative when he chooses to.

  “Good of you to join us, Ash.” Aiden grins as sadism sparks in his eyes. “Now look away from my wife before I create a diplomatic problem between England and the US.”

  The all-American golden boy bursts into laughter, raising his hands. “All right, all right. You have it bad, dude.”

  Aiden wraps his hand around mine, interlacing our fingers as if to prove a point.

  Our rings are above each other’s. Something Aiden likes to do a lot.

  We’ve been married for two years, and he’s been publicising it everywhere. Whenever someone stares in my direction, he nearly blinds them with the huge diamond ring he got for me.

  It’s not something I would wear, but I accepted it nonetheless. This ring was Alicia’s, and I understand its emotional value for Aiden.

  I soon found out he’s also using it to mark his territory at every opportunity.

  The press is the only medium he didn’t use for publicity, but he didn’t need to.

  Our wedding, although exclusive to family and friends, made the headlines.

  The King and Steel marriage was written about over and over in business columns and newspapers.

  It’s the start of a new era for both companies. While Dad and Jonathan aren’t the best of friends, they learned to work together.

  I still can’t trust Agnus completely. He really is a psychopath and I’m always wary of him. However, Dad trusts him even though he seems to know of his exact nature.

  Agnus plays a huge part in Dad and Jonathan’s partnership. He’s become a pillar of strength for our families, and I can’t hate him for that.

  Even Aunt and Uncle’s company, Quinn Engineering, has been thriving since the partnership between King Enterprise and Steel Corporation.

  Aunt was a little sad when I chose Oxford over Cambridge, but she quickly got over it.

  “Do you have anything to add to the discussion, Ash?” Aiden asks his American friend.

  All the team members focus on the latter.

  Some girls blush. Others stare up at him with dreamy eyes.

  If only they knew what lurks under the beautiful façade.

  He’s just like Aiden. If not a little more unhinged. I still have no idea why he left his prestigious college back in the States to join us here.

  “Yes, actually.” He flops into a chair, his arms hanging off the edge. “See, Aiden. I don’t have to prove it to you because we’re not under legal obligation. I can choose to prove it, but it’s only voluntary.”

  “When does voluntary end and the obligation start?” Aiden shoots back.

  They go on and on. The audience are watching two titans clash with gaped mouths. Even the president doesn’t dare to say anything.

  Me, on the other hand? I’m done watching two sociopaths trying to outsmart one another.

  As Asher goes on and on about legal texts and whatnot, I squeeze Aiden’s hand and whisper, “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

  He doesn’t even stop to consider it.

  Still clutching my hand, he stands, taking me up with him and effectively cutting off Asher. “My wife needs to rest.”

  “Loser,” Asher mutters.

  Aiden smirks. “I’m taking a rain check.”

  “I’ll be here,” Asher calls to our backs as we head to the door. “Now, where was I?”

  He launches into a long, one-sided argument.

  “Why are you even friends with him?” I ask as soon as we’re alone.

  “Because he’s fun, sweetheart. We need fun people who aren’t politically correct.”

  “You mean sociopaths.”

  “Every society needs old-fashioned villains.” He grins down at me, then his brows crease. “Why are you tired?”

  “I’m—”

  Before I can say anything, he slams his palm on the middle of my chest.

  “Aiden!” I watch our surroundings. I know he’s just checking my heartbeat — like he does every day. Actually, he sometimes sleeps with his head on my heart to make sure it’s working properly.

  “I told you to check my wrist pulse when we’re in public,” I whisper. “People are watching.”

  “Fuck people. I’ll check my wife’s pulse any way I like.” He removes his hand and places two fingers on my neck. “Hmm. Your pulse is fine.”

  “It is,” I say as we step into the cold air.

  “Then what is it? Do you feel chest tightness?”

  “No.”

  “Palpitations?”

  I shake my head.

  Aiden is strict as fuck when it comes to my health. He’s more religious about my appointments than I am. He’s continuously studying about heart conditions like doctors with degrees.

  He’s even considering taking a second course in medicine.

  No kidding, he really is.

  He steps in front of me, buttons my coat to my chin, removes his scarf and ties it snugly around my neck.

  It smells of him, clean and masculine. I take a deep inhale, breathing him into my lungs.

  Aiden takes my cold hand in his and blows warm air into them before he places them in my pockets.

  I watch him with a smile on my face. This side of Aiden always gets me in a knot. He’s so caring and attentive, I actually have nightmares about a life without him.

  He’s become such a constant I can’t breathe without anymore.

  Forget love and adoration, Aiden is fucking air to me. He’s everything I want in life and more. For that reason alone, I move onto my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his lips.

  He grins with boyish charm.

  Aiden likes it when I surprise him with kisses or when I demand pleasure. He says it turns him on more than anything else.

  “Come on, it’s cold.” He pulls on my cheek. “I need to get my wife home.”

  Right. Home.

  Our place is about a fifteen minutes’ drive from campus.

  We spend it talking about classes while Aiden has his hand up my thigh. I’m lucky to be wearing jeans; if I was in a skirt, he’d be bringing me to orgasm by now.

  Aiden is still Aiden. Boundless and shameless.

 
He drives me crazy. I swear I fall for him a little more every day. I fall in love with how he prepares breakfast for me every morning. How he takes me on a run and watches my heart rate through it. How he carries me to bed from my desk every night when I fall asleep on it. How he fucks me as if he can’t get enough of me.

  I love his attentiveness and his protectiveness. Hell, I even love his possessiveness sometimes.

  I love all of him.

  We arrive at our place.

  It’s a two-storey house with a small garden I take care of. Aiden bought the land next to us for our one-year anniversary. He said it’s a gift so I can build my first house.

  Our actual house.

  I’ve been going crazy since then, coming up with a thousand and one ideas. I’m even contemplating combining the two lands and having a blast with it.

  For now, we live in a cosy house with an antique feel to it.

  As soon as we’re inside, I stop to remove my coat. Aiden yanks off his jacket and jogs to the kitchen — for my meds, no doubt.

  I study our house, the wooden flooring and the dark decor.

  A tinge of arousal hits me at the memory of Aiden taking me in every corner of this house. On the sofa, against the counter, and even on the floor near the entrance.

  This place is filled with so many heart-warming memories.

  After hanging the coat and scarf onto the hook on the wall, I tiptoe towards the kitchen. Aiden stands at the counter fussing with pills. He still reads the label every time. There’s no risk of error with him.

  I wrap my arms around him from behind and rub my cheek against his back.

  Aiden might not be a football player anymore — except for the occasional games now and then — but his physique is still hard and toned.

  We go on runs together and he works out when he has insomnia, although it’s become rare since our marriage.

  “What do you want most in the world, Aiden?”

  “You.” He doesn’t even miss a beat.

  I smile. “What else?”

  “You healthy and happy and fucking mine.”