“Say something,” said a woman with a toddler strapped to her chest. “Give us hope.” She shoved a speaker into my hand, and I realized that I recognized her. She had worked in my father’s chambers once, though she’d disappeared a few years back amid whispers of a pregnancy scandal. Was the child on her chest another shamed and unclaimed child of my father’s, a casualty of his insatiable appetites?
I held the speaker to my mouth and took a deep breath. “It’s good to be home,” I said, my voice coming out small and unimpressive despite the speaker I held.
A few people laughed, but most of them raised their voices, shouting a hundred questions at me at once, so I couldn’t possibly hear even one.
“I know you’re angry,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the crowd. They responded with a roar at those words. I could see it in their eyes, the mob thirst for revenge that would terrify my father to his very soul if he could see it. But he’d never see it. He was no doubt hidden somewhere in a bunker with a dozen guards, a bomb-proof door, and a wall of magic between him and anyone who might wish him harm.
“I’m angry, too,” I continued. “But please don’t engage in acts of violence. That stops here, now, today. The reign of bloodshed is over.”
The people holding me boosted me higher, holding me on their outstretched arms. A calm had gripped me, the peace of knowing I was doing the right thing. That my words were the truth. My voice came out loud and clear when I spoke again. “Our families, both ocelot and human, deserve better. You deserve better. And you are better. If you’re attacked, by all means, defend yourself. But unnecessary violence does not bring unity or peace. For too long, the soil of this nation has been watered with the blood of the fallen and the tears of their loved ones.”
Before I could go on, the loud thrum of helicopter blades pulsed in the air, and a fleet of six choppers rose from in front of the palace, banking over the buildings in our direction. The crowd exploded into a frenzy. People scattered, running in every direction, hauling others with them or simply running blindly like rabbits. Screams rang out, and I was jostled before being roughly deposited onto my feet. I stumbled, but someone grabbed my hand, yanking me along. I got my feet under me as I ran, relieved to see Jetsun on my right. I scanned the crowd, searching for my other mates, but I didn’t have time to spot them as I was yanked along, unable to stop without being trampled.
A chopper swept low over us, spraying the crowd with liquid, the blades beating the air so close that sand pelted our legs and our hair whipped into our faces. The overpowering scent of gasoline rammed into my nostrils, making my eyes water. I wiped at my face, uncomprehending for a second. The crowd’s excited cheers had turned into shrieks of terror as another wave of choppers rose from behind the palace like hornets. They hung there for a moment before diving toward the crowd, swooping so low I could see the combat-clad guards hanging out the doors, holding automatic rifles and bracing their feet against the doorframe. I wondered for one second if Gabor was in one of them.
And then they opened fire. Bullets plowed down rows of the crowd who hadn’t gotten out yet, ripped lines through the backs of runners as they tried to escape. They fell screaming, hitting the ground seconds before they were trampled by more of the crowd in a frenzy to escape. Seconds later, a mushroom cloud of fire bloomed from the crowd, racing across the hysterical mass and consuming it before the scream in my mouth had finished rolling off my tongue.
Jetsun’s arm wrapped around my waist, and he dragged me into a building with a dozen others, the door slammed behind us. Then we were out the back, my head spinning so fast I couldn’t take it in. My brain was stuck on the image of the writhing, screaming crowd as it burst into flame.
My mates. Where are my mates?
My brain was caught in a fog of anguish, my eyes stinging with tears and gasoline. I ran through the cobbled streets, into shops and out hidden exits I didn’t realize I knew. At last, Jetsun pulled me to a stop. “Where are we going?” he asked. “We’ve been past this shop already.”
I stared at him blankly for a moment. “Where are they?” I asked. “Where’s everyone else?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Is there somewhere safe we can go to regroup?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I knew a lot of people, but I lived in the palace. I’d rarely spent a night away from it before the amulet tour. We’d taken a few vacations when I was a child, but I didn’t go on the tours of ocelot nobles that my family did, and since my mother died, my father had never traveled anywhere else. My best friend had worked in the palace stables, and my other friends also worked in the palace or on the grounds. I certainly didn’t know anyone who would take us in.
“Come,” called a voice. I turned to see a woman peering out the crack in the side door of a flower shop, gesturing for us to come closer. I grabbed Jetsun’s hand and pulled him over. The woman glanced up and down the street before opening the door and pulling us inside. She closed and locked the door behind her. The interior of the shop was dim, the lights off and only one window letting in light from outside.
The woman held a finger to her lips and listened. She wore a dingy brown dress that looked like it was made from flour sacks and an apron tied around her middle. “You two get showered upstairs,” she said. “I’ll keep watch.”
I had forgotten the gasoline that streaked my skin and hung heavy in my hair. We both wreaked of it, and after thanking the woman, we didn’t protest much. We were grateful to have a place to bathe. Like many of the shops, an apartment upstairs provided lodging for the owner. The place was cluttered with personal effects but not messy. We stepped into the bathroom and closed the door before stopping short. We stared at each other a long moment. I swallowed hard, trying to remember why it mattered that we not shower together.
Jetsun stepped forward, gripping the edge of my tank and pulling it up over my head. I stood there while he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pulling them down over my hips, over my thighs, down to my ankles. He had to pause there to undo my boots, pulling each one off and my jeans along with them. He sat back, gazing up at me for a long moment, his pale blue-green eyes drinking me in like a sea taking the rain. Then he stood and shed his own clothes before he turned on the shower, testing the temperature a few times with his hand before pulling me inside.
The warm water flowed over me, streaming down my face and hair as I stood unmoving, as if I couldn’t quite remember what to do. Jetsun stepped in behind me, tossing his clothes outside the shower before reaching for the shampoo. He drizzled it over my head and then began to rub it into my scalp and my hair. His long, strong fingers massaged as he went, and warm tingles started to spread through my body, thawing me from my shock.
I hadn’t felt like this since watching Tadeu die. Nothing we’d encountered in the other feline nations, no matter how terrible, compared to my father’s barbary.
As Jetsun’s hands moved from my hair and down my back, his skillful fingers soaping my arms, my back, the curves of my hips, I remembered also how I woke myself from the shock of Tadeu’s death. I reached back, spreading my ass cheeks. Jetsun hesitated, then slid his fingers between, washing me there, too. My knotted entrance clenched when his fingers moved over it, slowly caressing the closed bud with soapy fingers.
“Put it in,” I whispered, my head falling back against his shoulder.
“We can’t.” His voice was roughened by desire, though, and when I swayed back against him, I could feel the heat of his erection burning into my flesh. I reached back and gripped it, sliding my hand up his beautiful shaft and sighing with pleasure.
“She doesn’t know,” I reminded him. “No one here knows who you are.”
Heat shimmered between my thighs as I felt myself getting wet from touching him, and I stroked his long, thick cock harder, the water making it slippery in my grip. “I need you,” I whispered, giving in to the shameful helplessness of my own attraction.
He hesitated before pushing his finger agai
nst the tight circle of puckered flesh. I spread my feet wider on the floor of the shower, arching my back and pushing against his finger until it worked past the resistance and penetrated my rear entrance. I turned my face up to his, reaching behind his neck to pull him closer. Without resistance, his lips met mine, water dripping from his hair down my cheeks as his mouth claimed mine, his tongue stroking over mine in rhythm with my hand on his cock.
His other hand gripped my chin, angling it so his tongue could go deeper before he slid his fingertips down my neck, sending a shiver spiraling through me. I rocked against him, helpless little moans of pleasure escaping me as his hand slid lower, cupping my heavy breasts and pinching my nipples in turn. I squirmed, wanting more than his finger inside me, and he worked a second one in, thrusting them into me hard enough to cause a pinch of pain while his other hand glided gently over my belly, dipping between my thighs.
I moaned long and low in my throat as he spread my pussy lips, letting the warm water wash over me before he began to slowly stroke my clit back and forth with his middle finger. I bucked and moaned, tormented by the swirling sensations inside me—the hot water streaming over me, his ridged cock hard and primal as it thrust into my hand, his tongue commanding mine, his forceful fingers fucking my ass while his other hand gently teased my pussy open to let the water lick at my slit.
He slid his hand lower, slicking through my juices as he explored my folds and circled my entrance. When at last he pushed two fingers deep inside me, I exploded with pleasure. I broke the kiss, my head falling back on his shoulder as I gasped for breath. His fingers pumped into both openings, stretching me and filling me with their strong, graceful length, now so skillfully used for my shameful needs.
I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t want him, but knowing that only made me come harder. As I rode his hands, my toes curled, and for a second, I was lost to everything except the orgasm gripping my body, washing over me like the water. I writhed helplessly against him to milk every drop of pleasure I could from his touch as if he weren’t my brother, as if his cock wasn’t gripped in my hand and his name rolling off my tongue as I came for him like the whore Tadeu said I was.
When at last I could breathe again, Jetsun slid his fingers from me, holding me against his body as he reached for the soap. His strong, solid chest pressed into my back with each quick breath he took, and I realized he hadn’t come. I felt even more ashamed as he soaped between my thighs, his rock hard length still crushed to my lower back.
We hadn’t said a word the entire time, and I wasn’t sure how to break the silence. I was used to Lord Balam’s dirty talk as he tossed me around during sex, so it hadn’t been a big adjustment when foul-mouthed Sir Kenosi had been added to the mix. Prince Kwame was gentler with me, but he spoke during sex. Tadeu took what he wanted and never let me forget it. Shadow took what he wanted, too, though he usually growled or bit during sex. I’d never been with someone so quiet, someone who gave me what I wanted without satisfying himself, too.
“You’re releasing a lot of magic,” Jetsun murmured against my ear. “You might need that.”
My eyes flew open and I could see a faint blue haze shimmering in the air all around us. I’d exploded out magic in the cave when my six men were all fucking me at once, but this was different, just a subtle distortion in the air around us.
“What do I do with it?” I asked, wondering if this was going to be a problem from now on.
“I don’t know,” Jetsun admitted. “But if you can use it somehow…”
I remembered what Lilith had said about trusting myself, so I closed my eyes and relaxed back against Jetsun. While he washed me, I focused on the magic. I could feel that my orgasm had created it, and that it was mine. It belonged to me. When I reached for it, it swirled back into me, and I instantly felt stronger somehow. I also felt renewed, charged, and more sexy than I’d ever felt.
Damn it. Was I going to be perpetually horny for the rest of my life?
“Do you want me to… Wash you?” I asked when Jetsun finished washing my body as thoroughly as if it were his own. I liked that, despite his years without a woman, he wasn’t shy about any part of my body.
“Yes,” he said, handing me the soap. I lathered his hair, his neck and face, his broad, strong shoulders and long arms, admiring the muscles and veins that ran along them. His pecs were broad and hard against my hands, and his nipples pebbled under my soapy touch. I swallowed hard as I ran my hands down the ridges of his abs to his groin. My eyes darted up to his, and suddenly I was the one who was shy.
“Want me to… Finish you off?” I asked, my mouth watering at the thought. I wanted to drop to my knees, wanted him to slide his cock into my mouth and let me taste him. I wrapped my hand around him and began to stroke his length with my sudsy hand, my thighs squeezing together at the sensation of his hot, slippery skin and the throbbing hardness beneath.
Jetsun chuckled and pulled my hand away. “I spent almost twenty years in a monastery,” he said. “I’m certainly capable of ignoring an erection.”
“You didn’t have sex in all that time,” I said. “Did you… Take care of yourself?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That would defeat the purpose of celibacy.”
“There’s a purpose to celibacy?” I asked.
Jetsun smiled a bit and turned off the water. “For some people.”
“Are you upset that I changed that?”
He didn’t answer as he grabbed two towels and handed me one. My heart skipped. Was he?
“No,” he said at last. “I was ready for a change, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I never would have left if you hadn’t come along and shattered the bubble around my safe little world.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, stung by his words.
He smiled and tucked the end of his towel in where he’d wrapped it around his hips. I stared at the water beading on his light golden skin, trickling down the lines of muscle in his abs, down the V of his Adonis belt and sinking into the towel.
“Itzel,” he said, nudging my chin up with his hand until my eyes lifted to his. “I’m not sorry about it. You were the catalyst that brought about a much-needed change.”
“You told me you didn’t believe in love,” I reminded him, my throat tight.
Jetsun took the towel I held clutched around me, and he wrapped it under my arms and tucked the end in, pulling me so close that my chest nearly touched his skin with each breath. “I also said I didn’t have a True Mate,” he reminded me. “But now I do. You changed everything, Itzel.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I asked, searching his frost-pale gaze.
“I think I have to be,” he said softly.
I nodded, my throat still tight. He and Tadeu were the last to join this little family, but they were different in every single way. I’d just met Jetsun, though we shared blood and should have grown up together. Instead, I’d had Tadeu. Tadeu, the rough-talking boy I’d known all my life, known I would marry. Now he was my tormentor, and Jetsun was the gentle lover I’d never known I needed. Where Tadeu railed against his fate, blamed and punished me for the things that had happened to him, Jetsun simply accepted them because they were. He didn’t fight destiny.
“I love you,” I whispered, staring at his chest so I wouldn’t have to see his reaction. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I do.”
He tipped my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. “I love you, Itzel,” he said, bending to brush his lips over mine. “In all the ways I’m supposed to, and all the ways I’m not.”
Seven
For the next week, we waited in the flower shop, hoping for news of the others. I was wanted for treason, and the family who owned and worked in the shop insisted that I stay hidden and not risk being assassinated by the king’s guards if I stepped outside. It was frustrating to be stuck there, unable to act. I couldn’t even get much information, as we had to rely on the completely biased reporting of the Ocelot Nation news, hoping to glean bits of t
ruth amid the propaganda and pandering. I even missed Ebele, the cheetah reporter who had followed Camila in the Tiger Empire. She may not have liked me after spending time with Camila and Tadeu, but at least she didn’t twist everything to fit her narrative.
My only solace was Jetsun. During the day, when we stayed hidden in the apartment above the shop, we strategized and planned, worried and wondered, dreamed, and told each other stories from our lives until I almost felt like he was the brother he should be. At night, we insisted the family keep their beds while we camped out in the flower shop downstairs. There, in the darkness that hid our identity and silence that hid our shame, Jetsun pleasured me in ways a brother never would.
In the morning, we went upstairs again, back to reality. Magda and her family went about their business, making sure they didn’t deviate in the slightest from their routine, lest it arouse suspicion.
One afternoon during teatime, she came upstairs. I thanked her for their hospitality but told her we needed to move on and find the others.
She smiled and patted my hand. “We’re already looking.”
“You have… Spies?” I asked.
“The revolution has started,” she said, the corners of her eyes creasing as she looked at me with kindness I didn’t deserve. “We won’t let our queen fight alone.”
“Even if it costs your lives?” I said, trying to push back the horror that rose in me every time I pictured that gasoline cloud erupting into flame, a human torch of hundreds.
“Of course,” she said. “We’re all ready to risk that, just as you did by coming back for us.”
“Did I?”
“Didn’t you?” she asked. “The king made a big announcement that you were to marry the Lion Prince and become queen there. The next bulletin was that you were suddenly a traitor to this nation and were to be captured on sight if you came home. Why did you come home, if not for us?”
Fallen Princess Page 9
