“You can’t,” the concubine shot back with a sassy tilt of her head. “I belong to the shah, and the only reason I came along is because I’m being paid to escort you. But this? This isn’t worth it. I’m out. Wipe your own ass from now on.”
I busted up laughing, along with a few others who knew they were beyond the reach of Camila’s wrath. Gabor glared at me. He was stuck with her. I wasn’t. I’d been hired to escort her, too. The best payment had always been the satisfaction of knowing it pissed off Itzel, though, and that had begun to wear off now that I couldn’t see Itzel’s face every time she saw me with her sister.
I had wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. To betray her the way she’d betrayed me, to let her feel it the way I did each time she walked by with one of her lovers, especially the one she’d given her virginity to. That had been mine to take, not his. He hadn’t believed hot-whispered promises in hay lofts, hadn’t learned her body so well he could make her moan in minutes, memorized her every curve and angle like a beloved photograph, hadn’t listened to her gasp I-love-you’s as her sweet cum drenched his tongue or dripped from his fingers. I had waited years for her to be ready, patiently coaxing her into comfort and confidence with her body, helping her shed her inhibitions and inferiority complex about being human in a shifter family.
I had done everything for her, and he’d gotten all the benefit. But it mattered less every day. She hadn’t just thrown her virginity away on some meaningless fuck. She loved the asshole. Anyone could see it. She’d forgotten me, moved on. I couldn’t hurt her because she simply didn’t give a fuck where I was or who I was with.
It pissed me off that she could care so little when I still cared so much.
“Fine,” Camila said after glaring at the concubine with murderous hatred. “I can’t order your execution. You’re dismissed. You are no longer a part of this party. Take only your personal possessions, and leave.”
The girl jumped to her feet, her eyes going wide. “You can’t just leave me here. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s freezing. I’m a human. And you know perfectly well that I didn’t bring anything personal on the trip. I was supposed to share your tent and supplies.”
“Your actions and words have consequences,” Camila said, a cold triumph lighting her eyes. “I will inform the shah that you chose to leave the hunting party and make your way home on your own.”
“I’ll die,” the girl said, her voice beginning to tremble.
“Did you think there would be no consequence to disrespecting a queen?” Camila asked. Even in her state of disarray, she was suddenly imposing, every inch an icy ocelot.
“Please,” the girl cried, dropping to her knees at Camila’s feet.
“Now you’re not too proud to beg,” Camila said, rolling her eyes at the rest of us. “Fine. Kiss my feet.”
The girl’s nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed, and I knew she was pissed as fuck to be forced to degrade herself for Camila’s ego. I felt for her. If I could have told her we’d all been there, I would have.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she girl gritted out, bending to kiss Camila’s feet. The display made me sick to my stomach. I’d been ordered to do the same before. It was why I’d kept my head as long as I had, why I’d only been beaten bloody instead of executed. Shame washed over me as I watched another person subjugated that way. I’d done it to save my life, and in the end, they’d killed me anyway. It was better to keep your pride, the way Gabor did. At least that way you died with honor.
As we stood there watching Camila threaten until the human girl trembled and begged, I swore to myself that I’d never let myself be debased that way again. They could kill me all over again, but I’d never again grant anyone the power to make me pathetic.
“We need to get moving,” Camila said to the girl after she was sufficiently terrorized and clutching the princess’s ankles. “Let me go.”
“No,” the girl sobbed. “Don’t leave me.”
“Gabor,” Camila snapped, holding out an impatient hand. “The dart gun.”
“Your Grace,” Gabor said, glancing between Camila and the human.
“Now,” Camila barked. “And your pistol.”
“She’s only a human.”
Camila’s teeth gritted together, her eyes blazing. “I am your master,” she gritted. “Give me what I asked for or die.”
The muscle in Gabor’s jaw tightened, and he reached for his belt. He slapped the blow gun into her hand, the one he’d used to keep me from killing Itzel a second time. She snatched it from him, loaded it, and blew a dart into the human’s back. It made a hollow sound as it pierced her jacket between her shoulder blades. The girl cried out, then collapsed.
Camila made a face to show her disgust, then shook her legs free of the girl’s hands and stepped away. She handed back the blow gun and fixed her frostbitten gaze on Gabor. “The pistol.”
Gabor’s jaw clenched harder, but he handed her his gun.
“Good,” Camila said, shaking back her matted hair. “Are there any more traitors among you?”
As she scanned the group, we all shook our heads. All but Gabor, who stared straight at her without moving. Camila’s eyes skimmed over everyone in turn, never flickering when they met Gabor’s insolence.
“Good,” she said. “Does anyone else want to leave now?”
“I’ll take the human back,” said a tall, skinny tiger boy who had joined the party at the same time as the concubine.
“You’re leaving the hunting party in favor of her?” Camila asked.
“I’ll make sure she arrives back at the palace,” the tiger boy said.
Camila leveled the pistol and shot him in the knee. A collective intake of breath met her action, and the boy fell to the ground, screaming and clutching his knee.
“Safe travels,” Camila said. “Anyone else?”
No one moved.
“Very well,” Camila said. “To ensure we don’t have a repeat of this unfortunate scene, I will now require every one of you to swear an oath of loyalty to me. You will accompany and protect me with your lives until the mission is complete or you meet your death. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
No one spoke.
“Your Grace,” Gabor said at last. “I have sworn my loyalty to the Ocelot Throne. I cannot have dual loyalties. I will serve the throne until my death.”
“And I’ll take the throne,” Camila said, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Therefore, you owe me loyalty already.”
Gabor shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No.”
No one breathed.
Camila’s eyes glowed gold as her ocelot strained to tear from her, to rip Gabor to shreds, to annihilate the threat.
Gabor cleared his throat. “Your Grace,” he said quietly. “You are not the crown.”
“Just do it,” I muttered. “Don’t be stupid.”
Camila turned, fixing me with her coldblooded stare. “You go first.”
“Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Swear me in, Your Majesty.”
I even said the words without mockery. My word meant nothing. I could lie with the best of them. I didn’t know why Camila would even take the word of a disgraced human, why she’d think it meant anything. But I wasn’t going to argue with her. I preferred to keep my kneecaps. My oath meant nothing, even to me. I’d break my word the second it was in my interest to do so. I had no scruples.
“I swear,” I said. “I will protect you with my life until the mission is over, or I meet my death.”
Camila’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “Swear on your honor.”
That was as big a joke as my momentary fantasy that I’d be like Gabor. I wasn’t about to beg and grovel, but I’d never be like an ocelot guard no matter how much I admired them. Swearing on my honor meant nothing. I was a scoundrel through and through. I had no honor.
“I swear on my honor,” I said without hesitation, without blinking or lowering my eyes. I could lie straight into her eyes with no g
uilt. Maybe that meant I was a sociopath.
Maybe it meant I knew she was one.
The vampire swore allegiance, as did the next two tigers, a human, a werewolf, and a fae. At last, Camila turned to the two cheetahs.
“We’re just here to film, Your Grace,” Ebele said with a pleasant smile.
“You are either a member of my temporary court, or your show stops here.”
Gabor hadn’t moved the entire time, but I was drawn to him the way I always was, as if people from our nation had their own gravity.
“They’d better do it,” I muttered to him. “Even a dumbass like me can see this is reality circuit gold.”
Ebele and her cameraman exchanged glances. He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but I knew it wasn’t that. He was letting her decide. Like a true journalist, she nodded. She’d do anything, even risk her life, to get the story. I admired her drive, something I’d lost since becoming a displaced shifter.
“I swear my life to you, Queen Ocelot,” Ebele said, bowing. “I will follow and protect you until the mission is complete or death claims me.”
The cameraman followed suit, and Camila smiled and gave a contented sigh, her eyes scanning the group with a proud air. Her loyal subjects had all pledged their lives to her, and she obviously thought that meant something. Maybe to some of them, it did.
“Now,” she said, clasping her hands together. “My guard. My loyal escort, who has stayed true to me through it all. Will you really betray me now, at the last minute, when your very life hangs in the balance?”
“I would never betray you, Your Grace,” he said. “By keeping my oath to the crown, I do not betray you. I honor you and the throne you will ascend.”
“Take the fucking oath,” I hissed behind him. “You can break your word. You can’t do anything if you’re dead.”
Camila planted her hands on her hips and glared at Gabor. “How can I trust you to be loyal to me then if you won’t swear loyalty to me now, when I need it most?”
“How can you trust me to be loyal to you then if I’ve broken my oath before?”
Camila’s teeth clacked together as she snapped her jaw shut. Gold blazed in her eyes again, and her pupils squeezed to vertical slits. “Take the oath.”
Gabor didn’t even flinch. “I’ll take the bullet, Your Grace.”
“Dumbass,” I muttered. “There’s no use in being a martyr for nothing.”
Camila stared at him, her face turning the shade of a peeling sunburn, her lips pinched together so hard they were white in her red face. Without a word, she spun on her heel and dove into her tent. I heard her tearing through her things. For a minute, I thought she was going to start sobbing in there. I never knew when she’d cry, or scald me with frostbite, or whimper helplessly, or rage like a mad woman.
She emerged at last, her hair stuck to her face, her eyes wild. She charged over to Gabor, her teeth bared in a snarl. “Swear to me,” she raged. “Or I’ll open this.”
She thrust her hand in front of his face. Gabor’s nostril’s flared, and for the first time since I’d first laid eyes on the man ten years before, I saw a flash of emotion. Not anger, but pure outrage. His jaw was clenched so tight I listened for the sound of teeth cracking. That’s when I realized what it was. The ocelot’s fucking amulet, as I’d called it with Itzel once upon a time.
We’d laughed about them back then. It had been fun. Most of our relationship was fun. I’d shared a decade with her. I’d watched her grow up, from a sad kid to a sassy teenager to a woman who could bring any man to his knees without even trying, without even knowing it.
Fuck. Why couldn’t I hate her without still loving her, too?
A hiss of excited whispers went around the group as they realized what Camila was holding. But from the looks on their faces, no one else knew what the amulet did, either. They were all waiting, watching the drama unfold. The camera was still rolling.
“I will never go back on my word,” Gabor said slowly, each word laced with venom and blood—the blood he’d spilled in the name of the throne. Suddenly, it all made sense. It wasn’t just about him being an honorable man. It was about what he’d done in the name of that throne. If his word was meaningless, then all he’d done because of that oath was a choice. The lives he’d taken, the men he’d beaten, tortured, and killed. If he went back on his word now, he could have done it then. If this was a choice, so was everything that had come before it.
“What happens if you open it?” Ebele asked eagerly.
“He falls in love with me,” Camila said, a vicious smile twisting her thin lips. “Then I’ll be assured of his loyalty.”
A murmur went around the group, but no one seemed to share Camila’s triumph or excitement. They all looked horrified, outraged, or extremely uneasy with the lengths their sworn leader would go to.
“Take the fucking oath,” I muttered, shaking my head. It was one thing to stand by your word, and another to be forced to fall in love.
“Open it,” Gabor said, enunciating each word as if daring Camila to do it.
“Listen, Gabor,” I said, somehow feeling it was my responsibility to talk him out of this. “You don’t want to do this, man. You’re giving up your free will.”
“She can have it,” Gabor said, never breaking eye contact with Camila. Their gazes were locked, neither of them relenting.
“You’re going to lose your honor and your pride if you fall in love with her, anyway,” I said. “You might as well swear the oath and keep your wits about you. If you fall in love with her, you won’t be able to think for yourself.”
Without looking at me, Camila swung the pistol my way and squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out, and the bullet pierced my muscle like a knife. I roared in pain, dropping to my knees.
“Another traitor leaves the party,” Camila said. “What will it be, Gabor? Are you with them, or with me?”
“What will he do?” Ebele breathlessly narrated for the cameraman. “Will the guard break his oath to the throne and give it to the crown princess instead? Or will he keep his word but lose his heart?”
Gabor ignored the camera, the reporter, even my curses as I pressed my hands to my wounded thigh. He spoke only to Camila, his voice quiet and emotionless. “I have given you my answer, Your Grace.”
“Fucking idiot,” I muttered. “She won’t just own your life. She’ll own your heart.”
I looked up, ignoring the sticky coldness coating my hands. If she’d hit an artery, this would be my final death. At least I’d die my own man. I couldn’t say the same for Gabor.
He stood straight and tall, still as a statue while Camila twisted open the amulet and caged his heart.
Twenty-Six
Itzel
Princess, Ocelot Nation
When the key sailed out the crack in the stone, the shouts outside turned into roars. I imagined the frenzy as the snow leopards went after it. Before they could come back with it, Jetsun slammed his shoulder into the stone slab. It ground to a halt and then slid shut, plunging us into the dimly lit, shadowy cavern again.
“There,” he said. “Now I can’t get in, and you can’t get out. We’re safe from each other.”
“No,” I whispered, too horrified to make a coherent argument. I stared out at this man, this monk. My brother, who had gone to great lengths to make sure that no unbrotherly things happened between us.
“If I opened the door now, they’d storm the entrance. They’d mob me, and then you. It’s the only way. I can’t change my mind. I can’t go out there for it.”
“What about food?” I asked.
“There,” he said, nodding to the little trunk in the corner. “There’s a packet of pills in there that will suppress your heat, too. It should be gone by this evening.”
“And the bucket?” I asked, already knowing what that was for.
It could be worse. It could. I kept telling myself that as I took one of the pills, praying it would be the miracle he promised. Maybe this was how Camila sur
vived. Shifters who had jobs in the human world couldn’t just take off a week when a heat hit. They’d need this. And yet, it was too hard to believe that this could dampen even a little of the lust roaring through my veins.
I could feel the tide rising inside me, though, a tsunami that would drive me mad if I didn’t unleash it soon. I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t mate during this heat, and there was no way around that. If the pills didn’t work, I’d just have to get through it, the same way I’d gotten through everything else on this tour. I might beg and plead for him to let in the snow leopards, I might be pitiful and shameless, but in the end, I’d survive it.
No one ever said survival was pretty. I’d come out stronger, and that was all that mattered.
“Tell me about your family,” I said, sinking to the floor on my side of the glass.
Jetsun approached warily.
“I can’t get out,” I said. “You already ensured that. We might as well talk about something. Distract ourselves with safe topics, remember?”
He nodded and sank gracefully onto the floor on the other side of the glass. Watching him lower himself to the ground was like watching a dancer twirl. God, why did he have to be so beautiful? It hurt to look at him.
I lowered my eyes to my orange-clad knees. I looked like I was in a prison uniform.
Good. The last thing I needed was for him to see me the way I saw him. Strong. Beautiful. Unearthly.
“So, you’re a god?” I asked, keeping my eyes lowered.
“Half god,” he said with a nod.
“If your dad’s a half-god, doesn’t that make you a quarter?”
He smiled. “All snow leopards are half god. So, when two of them make a child, it’s still half god.”
“Right,” I said. “And you have the amulet.”
Jetsun studied me for a long moment. “How do you know that?”
“Your father told me,” I said, realizing that Jetsun had absolutely no clue who I was. “I’m Princess Itzel of the Ocelot Nation. My sister is the crown princess. I’m here on her behalf to get the snow leopard amulet.”
“Are you supposed to do that? I’m only to give it to an heir. Are you the cheetah heir?”
Hunted Princess: A Paranormal Dark Romance (Feline Royals Book 3) Page 18
