Guard the Crown: The Royal Alphas

by H Q Kingsley

  It just hurt like a son of a bitch but didn't seem broken.

  The last time had been more brutal. I’d nearly taken my pinky toe clean off. I kept forgetting how narrow the door frame was in my new, shitty apartment.

  I sighed and climbed back onto my feet, going to pick up the one and only box of my stuff off the ground. I’d been traveling for months before I’d finally landed in Eastola. It was as distant from Belaria as I felt I could get, and I’d finally felt far enough away to call it home. But it had taken me nearly three months just to get an apartment.

  Truth was, Eastola wasn't all that different from Belaria. They were both big, beautiful kingdoms—if you had money—but it was a long, dark walk across the railroad tracks, and on the other side was poverty and overcrowding. The only part of the kingdom I could afford to live in had a waiting list a mile long. People were piled on top of each other like sardines packed in a can.

  I’d been lucky enough to make friends with an old man who seemed to be on his last leg and had graciously taken me in. But his apartment was small, and I was not. I had to crouch when I was inside just to keep my head from scraping along the worn ceiling.

  I sighed as I looked around. I’d certainly lived in worse. The Belarian military had more than prepared me for less than ideal living conditions. This, at least, beat sleeping in a dirt trench just hoping that enemy soldiers didn’t take me out in my sleep.

  I gritted my teeth as I made my way across the tiny apartment. Whenever I thought about Belaria, it pissed me off.

  Things were going well for the kingdom from what I’d heard from my father. He wrote to me relentlessly. No matter if I had a mailbox for him to send it to or not, he always found a way to get word to me. He was crafty like that. He’d managed to come from absolutely nothing and find his way into medicine in the military. He was well-respected and the bravest man I’d ever known, and he had eyes everywhere, even the far reaches of Eastola apparently.

  I missed him, and despite everything, I missed Belaria. I missed...Chase.

  My throat tightened just thinking of his name. I’d loved him with everything in me. I’d followed him, joined him at the ground floor of the rebellion he’d started in Belaria. I’d thought I’d be by his side at the end of it all. I’d thought we would take down the Abfantu crown together.

  I loved him more than he loved me. I’d always known that, but I’d thought one day after he’d accomplished taking down the crown, after the kingdom was everything he’d dreamed it could be, that he’d finally see me. That he’d finally realize we were destined to be together. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d been captured by the crown prince, Milo Abfantu, and somehow had fallen in love with him. Fated Mates, he’d said, but I didn’t believe in that kind of thing. A mate was someone who stuck by you no matter what, the fates be damned. I’d thought Chase believed the same thing, but then he’d gone and conquered the kingdom pregnant with another man’s child, an Abfantu’s child no less. And it broke me. I was shattered now. After my time in the military, I never thought I’d leave Belaria again, but now, I couldn’t get far enough away.

  I was happy that Chase was happy, even if it wasn’t with me. I loved him enough that I wanted that for him, that a part of me was amused that he’d had four children with Milo, considering he’d never really wanted any. Part of me yearned to go back to him, to introduce myself to his kids as their uncle. He’d been my best friend. I didn’t really know how to live without him. But I had to. As much as I wanted him happy, there was that other part of me—that jealous, gutted part—that still felt betrayed. That felt discarded. How had he chosen Milo Abfantu over me?

  I dropped my box into the corner of the room that had been designated as mine. It wasn’t a bedroom exactly. It was more like a cornered off section of the living room, hidden behind a stained blue sheet. It was better than the streets, though, which is where I’d been before. Sleeping on buses and park benches, just barely getting by until I found a new place to call home.

  I settled onto the dingy mattress on the floor. It was far too small for me—most mattresses were—and half my body hung off of it, the heels of my feet resting on the floor.

  I sighed as I looked around at the peeling wallpaper and the sinking floorboards of my new apartment, and suddenly I just needed a fucking drink. It was all too much to deal with sober.

  Among the few things I’d brought with me was a nice bottle of whiskey, something I’d stolen from the Abfantu palace in Belaria. It was expensive, old whiskey literally meant for a king. It was the least Milo Abfantu could do. He’d stolen the love of my life, so he owed me whiskey.

  It was the fanciest thing I owned, and I only drank it when I was feeling particularly bitter, so I grabbed it from its box and took a healthy slug straight from the bottle, feeling it burn down my throat.

  I wanted to stop thinking. To forget about everything that had led me to this shitty little hole in the middle of Eastola, but when I closed my eyes, I could see Chase’s smile, and it made me guzzle down more from the bottle just to get that image out of my head.

  Chase had been through some shit. He lived a hard life and didn’t smile all that much. Usually, he was quiet and stoic unless he was trying to lead the people, and then it was like he was on fire, building us up with his words and making us eager to fight for the cause he believed in so much.

  But when he did smile? Fuck. Fuck.

  It was beautiful and bright.

  And now, he was sharing that smile with Milo-fucking-Abfantu.

  Goddammit.

  I knocked back another quarter of the bottle and put it down on the chipped and dented floorboards before getting to my feet.

  My toe didn’t hurt as bad anymore, a benefit of the booze, and I pulled on some clothes that weren’t dirty and sweaty from moving shit.

  I needed to get out. I needed some air and a walk to clear my head.

  My new apartment wasn’t far from the capital, just a quick walk over the train tracks and through the gates.

  I headed out, and by the time I’d made it to the gates, I was feeling the warm tingle of whiskey electrifying my skin.

  The well-built, red-headed gate guard grinned at me as he checked my ID. I wasn’t looking my best, my hair had grown well past my shoulders in a wild, untamed mane and my beard hadn’t been trimmed in ages, but that didn’t seem to matter. My size was my asset. People were drawn to me because I was a fucking landmark. Particularly for tall, muscled men like the guard. They weren’t used to meeting men who could actually pick them up and toss them like a basket, and that intrigued most of them.

  I tried to smile back at him, but the truth was, I couldn’t be with anyone else. I couldn’t even have eyes for them. I was still hung up, still heartbroken, still...bitter. I was suddenly annoyed that the guard was taking so long to clear me to enter the city, and I bit my tongue against lashing out at him.

  “So, where are you headed tonight?” he asked. It was standard questioning, everyone who entered the capital needed a reason.

  “Just looking for a drink,” I said, hearing my own words slur.

  “Sounds like maybe you’ve already had a drink or two.” He fluttered his long, dark eyelashes at me, and I nearly rolled my eyes.

  “You the sobriety police now?” I snapped, unable to stop myself. I was angrier than I’d ever been these days, at everyone and everything. The goddamn birds singing in the mornings made me angry now. Heartbreak had turned me into pure venom.

  “Oh, uh…” He blinked, clearly caught off guard. He was a good-looking guy, and he worked for the capital. He probably never really had to work too hard for attention. “No, I just meant...you know, if you wanted to get drink number three together, I…” He cleared his throat and handed me back my ID when I kept looking at him with complete and utter disinterest. I was too irritable to keep playing nice.

  “You’re cleared,” he finally said, nodding to his partner operating the gate.

  I grunted in response as I slipped
my ID back into my pocket and walked forward.

  The capital was lavish and bright, even in the evening, just like a capital city was supposed to be.

  A far cry from the lower towns of Belaria, and the little slum right outside the capital of Eastola itself. Pretty shitty, honestly, to have this glittering capital right there where the poor and hungry could see it, but royals had never made it their business to give a shit about the people they were stomping all over. Fucking typical.

  I grumbled to myself as I trekked my way across the capital and let the haze of alcohol settle in more while I walked, my head spinning pleasantly. I had no money, no friends, and no reason at all to be in the city, but an aimless walk seemed to calm my nerves. It eased some of the anger that seemed to be constantly brimming just beneath the surface.

  When had I gotten like this? I’d been telling myself it was the heartbreak, that Chase had turned me into this raging monster, but was it? The anger wasn’t that unfamiliar. Maybe it’s why I’d been so drawn to Chase in the first place. He’d been so angry all of the time. Maybe I had been, too. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy to follow him, to fall for him, because I understood him.

  I’d fought in a war I hadn’t believed in, and the moment I’d returned home, I’d been dumped in the slums of Belaria just like my father before me. I’d lived in a system I’d hated, and I’d loved a man that had never really loved me back. Maybe I’d always been raging inside and Chase had been my cover, my distraction to trick myself into thinking I was well-adjusted. But now that I wasn’t working so hard to make him love me, now that I was alone with myself, I could see it. I wasn’t happy. I hadn’t ever really been happy. I didn’t even know what happy looked like.

  As I approached the center of the city, I stopped and stared at the large, lavish fountain sculpted into the shape of a man, the king, I presumed. I didn’t actually know much about Eastola or who ruled it. They didn’t teach history in the slums.

  The fountain spit water out of the outstretched sword of an embellished man poised in stone-chiseled furs. Around it was a pool of water that changed colors from fluorescent purples to greens to blues, all encapsulated in a lavish marble ring that served as the centerpiece to what appeared to be a luxurious town square.

  On the other side of the fountain was a large banquet hall with an awning draped with gold and blue cloth, across a glittering glass door that reflected the light when it swung open.

  A swooping, golden banner hung between two pillars of the dome-style building that read, Happy Birthday, Prince Rehan!, and I scoffed as I read it. Great, more princes. That was just what I needed in my life.

  Just a year ago, Chase would have been by my side, scowling and ranting about the kind of money royals wasted on trivial things while the rest of the kingdom starved. But not now. Now, he was one of them.

  I frowned at myself. It was unfair. Technically, Chase was royalty, but he’d never be like them. I wasn’t in Belaria to see it, but I’d bet my life that he was doing everything in his power to change things, not stick to the status quo. He wouldn’t do shit like walk up a golden carpet to go inside a fancy party. Not in a million years. It’s why I love him.

  I gritted my teeth as bitterness and sadness flared in my chest. I needed another drink. Quick.

  “Hey, bro. You alright?”

  I lifted my head to watch a tall, thin man walk around the fountain. The light of the fountain shined on him, and it was impossible not to notice just how attractive he was. His long, dark hair was dreaded into neat locs that gathered around his face, framing him like a perfect portrait. His skin was so richly brown and smooth that he almost didn’t look real, like something plastic and molded purely for beauty. His high cheekbones and sharp jaw were accented by his lazy, bright, white smile as he walked toward me.

  “Your whole vibe is reading super stressed, man,” he said as he stood next to me.

  I stared him down, staring past the attractiveness. He wasn’t dressed like some of the other people headed into the dome building. He was in ripped up jeans and a blood-red shirt that was literally only held together by three large black safety pins. It was a purposefully grungy look that seemed particularly out of place considering the lavishness of the setting.

  There was something familiar about him. I knew him somehow, and it baffled me. The people I knew didn’t talk about ‘vibes’.

  “Do I know you?” I asked, my tone sharper than I’d meant it to be. God, what the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t even seem to be nice to an attractive guy standing right in front of me. How the hell was I ever supposed to move forward?

  The guy didn’t seem to notice. He gave me another flash of that perfect, lazy, slanted smile. “Keyian Mendoza,” he said, extending his hand.

  Keyian Mendoza. I knew that name. I knew that hair. Suddenly, a flash of a memory echoed in my head.

  “You’re in that band,” I said, slowly piecing it together as I took his hand.

  I vaguely remembered a song about a bird eating a worm that Chase used to play incessantly. There weren’t a lot of universal pop culture bands that had made it to Belaria, but Keyian’s had.

  “Work In Progress,” Keyian said, helping me to remember the band name. “Yeah, that’s us.” He looked me up and down without letting go of my hand. “I’m guessing you’re not one of Prince Rehan’s guests,” he said, that same smile still pulling at his lips.

  I snorted. “Definitely not.”

  “Not invited or not your scene?”

  “What do you think?” I challenged.

  He nodded, finally letting go of my hand as he reached into his tattered jean pocket.

  “I think,” he started as he fished out a rolled-up spliff from his pocket. “That you might be the only person here who might enjoy this with me right now.”

  I arched a brow as he pulled out a lighter and took a deep inhale, holding it as he handed it to me.

  I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t that guy. The one to take drugs from strangers—even world-renowned rock stars, but where had not being that guy gotten me? Heartbroken and homeless, that’s where.

  I nodded, taking the joint from him and pulling in a deep inhale that came quickly back up in a coughing fit. It had definitely been a while.

  Keyian chuckled and clapped at my back. “You good, bro?” he asked, and I nodded through wheezes.

  Despite the very little I’d had, a slow, light haze washed over me, easing me just the tiniest bit.

  “I needed that,” I said before I took another pull and handed it back to him.

  “Long day?” Keyian asked.

  “Long life,” I countered.

  He nodded as he smoked. “I hear ya.”

  I cocked my head, curious about what kind of “long life” a twenty-something, rich and famous rockstar could have had, but before I could ask, he tucked his lighter back into his pocket and handed his smoke back over to me.

  “You keep that,” he said with a wink. “I’ve got to head back in. Duty calls and all that.” He turned to walk away but hesitated before turning back around. “I’m pretty good at reading vibes, and yours has emotionally unavailable written all over it, but I’m going to ask anyway.” He stepped closer to me and met my gaze. “If I gave you my number, would you call?”

  I stared into his glassy hazel eyes. He really was attractive as all hell, and I was certain we could have some fun together, but…

  I sighed. “I’d really, really want to,” I said. “But…”

  He nodded and took a step back. “No, I get it.” He shrugged. “Just had to shoot my shot.” A half-smile pulled at his lips as he winked before turning back around.

  I watched him for a long moment as he headed back inside, getting stopped a few times along the way by people in fancy dresses and suits who fawned over him.

  I took one last pull from the joint he’d left me before dropping it onto the ground and stepping on it. I welcomed the haze that drifted over me. I needed it. I need some small e
scape from reality. And maybe I needed something like Keyian. He would be a huge change in pace from Chase, and I was never going to move on if I just kept wallowing.

  I started to move forward and stopped as something in the corner of my eye caught my attention.

  A man standing at the edge of the square. He wasn’t dressed to the nines like all the other attendees, but had on all black and was lurking off to the side.

  I couldn’t decide if it was the drugs making me paranoid or if all of my military instincts were buzzing for good reason, but that guy, there was something about him. He could have been a server, some schmuck hired to cart over glasses of champagne and shrimp toast or whatever it was people ate at fancy dos like that, but my gut told me he wasn’t.

  He started around the edge of the square, quietly moving around the back of the building, bypassing the security at the front. It wasn’t outlandish, the service entrance was right around there. If he was a caterer, that would be exactly where he was supposed to go.

  No. Something isn’t right here.

  My lion’s voice echoed inside my head, and I shook it off. Even if he was some skulking bad guy, what difference did it make? It wasn’t my problem.

  But even as I told myself to walk away, I couldn’t. I stood there, quietly hidden in the shadows, watching him.

  It was second nature to follow him, keeping to the darkness. Even in my altered state, my training never went away. It was like flexing a muscle, instinct took over.

  Halfway around to the back of the building, the sketchy guy was joined by three other equally as sketchy guys, and I knew my hunch was right. One sketchy busboy wasn’t a big deal, but four of them were definitely up to something, and it wasn’t going to be anything good.

  They slipped inside the building through the backdoor, and I followed them inside, managing to catch the door before it closed behind them. They ducked around a corner and then took up trays and bins from the back, whispering to each other before they spread out and started collecting empty champagne flutes and plates.