The Stray Prince (Royals Book 2)

by Ella Fields

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  A humorless laugh left the shadows. “Tell me, Audra. Was it more power you wanted? Revenge? I could have given all those things to you, and gladly,” he said, tone scathing, “without you whoring yourself out to another male.”

  I flinched, stepping back.

  “Nothing to say?” he goaded.

  “I did it for you,” I said, softer than I’d intended.

  Another bout of cold laughter. “Please,” he said, sobering quickly. “That is what you might wish for everyone to believe, but we all know you do nothing if it does not benefit you.”

  A killing blow, and he knew me well enough to know exactly where to strike. “If that is what you think, then perhaps you don’t know me at all.”

  “I do think you’re right.” He looked over at me then, but the shadows that clouded his cell were too dense for me to read his full expression. His eyes, though, were alive with enough ire to be seen in my dreams for many nights ahead. “I’m beginning to think I never really did.”

  I’d had enough. “Stop this,” I hissed, crouching, the gown bending with my body. “I am here because of you, and I remain here out of my love for you.”

  “Love,” he said as if tasting the word. “You do not understand it, Audra. You’ve no idea what it is or what to do with it.”

  “I understand what not to do,” I said before I could stop myself.

  He grinned, the white of his teeth flashing. “You were smothering him like an unnecessary blanket. Is that what you do when you love someone?”

  “Zad, you lied to me,” I reminded him. “And furthermore, you know I’m not—”

  “No,” he said, soaked in disdain. “I care not what reason you might have had. Not when I have watched you give yourself to another male once before, and it almost killed me. You weren’t to know, you weren’t ready, and so I never blamed you, but this...” My heart plummeted as his voice deepened, lowered. “I fear I cannot forgive you for this.”

  I tried to keep the panic, the pain, from my voice. As airy as I could manage, I murmured, “Then it would seem we’ve encountered a stalemate.” We both stared, a thousand broken promises within our eyes. “Very well, my lord.”

  I gripped the bars to stand, feeling the hum within them, a warning to the heritage within my blood. I felt it balk, curling away from the metal in a way I’d never experienced around iron before.

  Lifting my chin, I waded through the dark.

  “Do not return,” he said.

  I stopped, licking my lips. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, do not fucking return.”

  A heated retort swelled over my tongue, iced my teeth. I swallowed it, pushed it back, but it came out anyway, scathing enough to make my eyes close. “We both know I won’t, for I’ve far more important things to do.”

  “There she is,” he said. I said nothing, remaining so still I wasn’t sure I breathed, and he bit out, “The queen I once knew and adored.”

  Once.

  Hollow and echoing, the word banged around in my brain, my heart refusing to accept it.

  Out of his line of sight, I pressed a hand against the damp wall, wondering if he could scent the roiling turmoil.

  On the way out, a hand grasped mine. I made to yank it back, but their grip was unrelenting, steel wrapped in flesh.

  The guard pried my fingers open, a dagger placed within my palm.

  My fingers curled around the faded, silver whorls etched into the worn black hilt. Gazing up from it, I met cloudy green eyes.

  “From Kash,” is all the warrior wolf said before staring above my head to the opposite wall.

  Nodding once, I tucked it within my sleeve. I’d have to head back to my rooms to hide it.

  Knowing I could not do that, I slipped out the way I’d come and circled the outer castle walls, offering a tight-lipped smile to a fluttering kitchen hand in the vegetable gardens.

  Her pale pink lips did not move, but her eyes, the blue so light they were almost white, trailed me.

  Moments later, I walked the halls, stopping at a framed portrait, looking for all the world as though I were admiring it to anyone who happened by.

  No one did. Any sound came from below in the throne room.

  Shifting the heavy silver frame forward, I found what I’d hoped the picture hid, a crack in the stone behind it. I wedged the blade in-between, dropping the frame back in place as footsteps clanged up the stairs at the end of the hall.

  “My Lady,” a guard said, dipping slightly. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  Indeed, he still wore his helmet, but his eyes held a sheen of desperation. I folded my hands before me and stepped back from the portrait. “Why?”

  “The king has been waiting for you. He requires your presence in the throne room immediately.”

  I gestured for him to lead the way and made sure to check my hands for any dirt.

  Raiden and Berron sat halfway down the table with their hands chained in their laps and no sign of Zad or the others.

  I claimed my seat beside the king, offering a wan smile. “I hear you’ve been searching for me.”

  Ryle looked up from a document he’d been perusing, fingers dragging around the lip of his goblet. Through me, over me, and roaming, he surveyed every inch of my body, his nostrils flaring slightly. “You went to see my brother.”

  I’d been an idiot to forget his sense of smell was far stronger than my own.

  So there was little point in lying. “I did, yes.” Forcing a sigh, I plucked a sparrow heart, still dripping blood and covered in roasted nuts, and deposited it on my plate. “He is none too pleased with me.”

  Ryle stared at my goblet, and it filled with wine. “I could imagine he wouldn’t be.”

  I added a large baked potato to my plate. “So,” I said. “What is the point of their presence?” I gestured with a flick of my eyes to the quiet males seated down the table from us.

  Ryle was looking at me when I lifted my head. “I thought you’d like to see them, being that it’s been some time, no?” Without removing his eyes from mine, he stabbed his fork into a sparrow heart, his teeth pulling it from the metal with deliberate slowness. “Both were lovers of yours, after all.”

  “Some time ago, yes.” I sent a sly smile their way, knowing it did not reach my eyes.

  Their own darted to me, unreadable beneath the few candles lit from above.

  I gave my attention to my food as the king said, “In light of your relationship with the king, I thought it best he and I reach an agreement.”

  “Oh?” I looked at the document before him that he’d been reading, unable to make out the woven gray writing from my vantage point.

  Ryle tapped the table, and the document, as well as an inkpot and a peacock feathered quill, appeared before Raiden, his empty plate crawling to the side on a slight wind.

  “Go ahead and sign, king,” Ryle said, a spark in his eyes as he willed my husband to do as he said. “Sign it, and you may leave without harm.”

  My lungs shook with my next failed breath. He was leaving and on his own.

  Raiden stared at the parchment, his dark brows furrowing, then looked at the king. “How am I to bring the gold to you?”

  Gold? My eyes swung to Raiden, but I felt an invisible current pulling at my chin, forcing them to my plate. My mind whirled as I succumbed, dizzy from the effort to fight it.

  The Fae hoarded gold and traded in silver. In treasures and trinkets, they kept their gold in their fortresses, keepsakes, frames, carriages, dinnerware, and a myriad of other items. To do so was to trap it forever, by scattering it for safekeeping.

  The king would take Raiden’s gold as well as his life, and no signature would stop him.

  I needed to turn my head, to lift my eyes, to scream at my idiot husband to stop this before he was tricked, but it was like walking against a wind intent on pushing me over.

  It was all I could do to keep my chin from hitting my chest unde
r such force.

  Ryle waved a hand, his voice deepening, the energy in the room shifting. “Do not worry yourself over such trivial tidbits. Let it be done.”

  The chains on Raiden’s wrists fell with a clang, freeing his hands. The scratch of the quill meeting parchment sounded too loud for such a small thing. But I knew, deep down, that what he was doing was no small thing at all.

  He’d been compelled.

  The king clapped, his laughter rich and rough. “Oh, how splendid.”

  Free of his grip, I looked at Raiden, whose eyes widened farther by the second. They snapped to the king as he stared at the document, then to me, outrage darkening the green orbs.

  I said nothing, but I felt my lips part as Raiden snarled, “Termination of marriage.”

  Shit. My stomach clenched with both relief and horror. I’d wanted nothing more than to be free of him in that way, but what that would mean for Allureldin... “Raiden,” I started.

  The king cut in. “Dear Audra, are you not pleased? You did say you wanted the marriage dissolved.”

  I shook my head, gaping at Ryle. “Not like this. Not—”

  A chair screeched over the tiles. “You tricked me, king.” Raiden’s shoulders rose then dropped, his teeth bared. “You deceived—”

  “Enough,” Ryle said as Raiden kept talking, yet no sound escaped.

  He frowned, realizing, his face twisting with rage as he came toward us. But two guards grabbed him by his biceps and hauled him back to the door leading to the dungeon.

  He quit fighting once they’d rounded the banquet tables, his shoulders slumping with heaving breaths.

  I wasn’t sure he’d forgive me for this. It wasn’t my doing, but it also was, and for as much as I no longer wished to be his wife, I still cared. I cared enough for it to bother me if he hated me. I cared enough about him for this to feel nothing less than wrong.

  Ryle snapped his fingers, gaining my attention. “Eat,” he said. “We’ve a ball to plan.”

  I looked at Berron, who was still staring at the table.

  “I heard that one likes males, so I’m giving him to my guard who also enjoys males.” Ryle said it so plainly as though to hand a creature to another to do as they wished was a regular, everyday occurrence. Spearing another sparrow heart, he spoke around the delicate meat, “I thought I’d do right by you and let him eat first.” He winked. “Eat up, and perhaps put some thought to showing me your gratitude later.”

  One of his favored guards, Nerro, arrived minutes later, and though I tried, Berron wouldn’t look at me.

  “Ryle,” I said, adding, “my king,” when his eyes narrowed. “Berron is one of my best warriors, loyal to a fault, and I fear what something like this might do to his mind after all he’s already done for me.”

  The king leaned forward, his breath blowing warm over my lips when he clasped my chin. “What shall you do for me?” His eyes bored into mine, but there was no force there. He was letting me decide.

  Knowing that, knowing he wanted me to go to him of my own volition, I said, “I will sleep in your bed if I am the only one in it with you.”

  Berron cursed. I ignored him.

  “Sleep,” Ryle said as though the word puzzled him. I could see the defiance growing in his eyes, felt it within his firming fingertips, and braced myself for his resounding refusal.

  But then he sat back, his lips pursed, and rubbed at his chin. Sparrow blood stained his lips, and he licked them. “You know what,” he said as if confused. “I am so intrigued by the simplicity of this, I am going to agree.”

  Audra

  The king’s arm was tight around my waist when I opened my eyes.

  Berron had been brought to the king’s rooms. As though he were a new pet, the king had told him to sleep on the floor before joining me where I’d laid on my back in his giant bed.

  A ball was to take place within hours, invitations already long sent to the other courts of Beldine.

  “A celebration,” the king had said when it was just us in the throne room, accompanied by his silent and eerily still sentinels. “Of our upcoming nuptials.”

  The words had sliced me in two where I’d sat beside him, fear racing through me too fast to mask. If he’d noticed, he hadn’t let on. He’d merely gone over the lists of dishes he’d like the kitchen staff to prepare while I’d struggled to nod and smile in acquiescence.

  I didn’t know when he’d decided to touch me, for I’d fallen asleep much quicker than I’d predicted. In fact, I’d expected not to sleep at all. I suspected that I’d been lulled into a dreamless landscape by the male gripping my hip, a low groan leaving him as something hard dug into my ass.

  He might have wanted me, but by no means did he trust me.

  I bit my lips, my eyes closing, but before I could stave off the panic long enough to think of a way out of this bed and this room, the king rolled to his back. “I do believe it’s been a long time since I’ve slept so thoroughly.”

  A thump sounded on the floor. I sat up to find Berron pulling himself, his limbs still bound, toward the wall. His hair was mussed, red lines marred his cheek, likely from resting over the rug.

  He met my eyes, and I willed him to tell me if he was okay, but he only looked at the rising king and then at the floor.

  “Come,” Ryle said, clapping his hands as he stalked naked from the bedchamber. “You need to bathe.”

  Berron’s stare rose when the king disappeared.

  I shook my head. No, I hadn’t slept with him, and no, I didn’t know what his plans were.

  He shook his own, chains rattling as he rubbed his cheek.

  With nothing else to do, I slipped from the bed and into the bathing chamber, finding it blessedly empty.

  Steam spun toward the open window, the glow of late afternoon snatching it from the room.

  Pulling off the lavender camisole I’d donned before bed, I climbed into the full tub and laid back against the rim.

  “I’ve had a new dress made for you,” the king said, startling me.

  He stood at the vanity, dipping his fingers inside a small pot of cream he used to lather his lower jaw and cheeks. I waited for a blade to arrive, but he never retrieved one.

  He leaned forward, splashing water from the bowl onto his face, washing the cream off. Wiping his damp, clean-shaven skin with a cloth, he frowned over at me.

  I blinked, thankful the citrus-scented soap bubbles covered most of my chest, even though he’d seen more than I’d have liked him to already. “Thank you.”

  I fixed my attention on the water, my fingers weaving through it, as he strolled closer.

  He fingered a curl of my hair, then traced my bare shoulder. “I do not know how much longer I can wait.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, but I needn’t have worried. A knock thundered. Ryle stepped away, walking out, and I heard, “They’re arriving, your majesty.”

  “Show them to their quarters,” he said. “And take this mongrel thing with you.”

  I heard them drag Berron outside into the hall, the king returning a moment later. “I must welcome our queens.” He shifted, the act such an oddity that I frowned up at him. “They do not know of my plans, so I expect not all will be pleased.”

  I tilted my head, asking when I already knew the answer. “And why would that be?”

  He licked his canine, then turned to push his arms into a bright yellow tunic, ruffles spilling from the neck. “Because although you are wickedly lovely, you are not of full blood.”

  I couldn’t quell the urge, nor the winter steel behind the words. “And poor genetics have already created enough issues for you.”

  Swift and glaring, he entered the bathing chamber, tucking his tunic inside his leather pants. “You dare to insult me?”

  “It is no insult, but merely the truth.” Slowly, I dragged bubbles over my arm and fluttered my lashes at his iced expression. “The truth isn’t always worth knowing, but ignoring it achieves nothing.”

  He knew w
hat I’d meant. That we could rule this continent and any others, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he hadn’t the power to give this world what it needed. We knew that was why Zadicus still drew breath.

  Ryle’s rule was archaic and spineless, but although everyone knew he was lacking, he was still the king.

  The vicious, tyrannical king of Faerie.

  Oh, he knew exactly what I meant, his eyes sparking with the need to punish, but the carriages outside were undoubtedly nearing the road leading to the bridge.

  With a growl, he spun and exited his rooms.

  I slumped beneath the water, and for just a moment, allowed myself to believe I was in my own bathing room. That I was home.

  Now dressed in a long velvet black jacket, white roses embroidered into the lapels, and white pants that clung to every muscle of his thighs and legs, the king was waiting for me outside the doors to the throne room.

  His black boots were silent as he came forward and offered his arm. “You look good enough to eat.”

  Approaching slowly, Temika at my back, I smiled hard enough to feel it crinkle my eyes.

  The dress he’d had made fit like a glove, tight around the chest and stomach and falling into a gradual avalanche of eye-catching pearls. Its pearlescent gold satin rubbed over my skin with a softness that resembled that of the milky water of Rainbow Springs.

  I shoved the memory away, the gold eyes that flashed through my mind, and looped my gloved arm, made of the same material, through his.

  Temika released the train of my gown, and it slithered silently behind me as we neared the doors, flanked by six warriors.

  “A gift,” the king murmured, stunning me. “From the creatures of the sea.”

  I felt my breath grow cold in my throat upon entering the overflowing throne room. Fae, of all statures, lingered and talked, royals and nobles seated at the banquet tables, accompanied by courtiers and lovers.

  And at two smaller tables on either side of the dais were mermaids.

  Legs, unnatural looking and draped to the side of their chairs, were bare. Wraps of differing greens around breasts and waists were the only clothing the unnaturally still males and females wore. They did not drink, and they did not eat. Some, the rare few who weren’t staring at us, eyed the food with muddled looks of disdain and curiosity.