“Mya!” she barked, trying to get the name out before Joett came up with one of her own, but she was too late. Joett had always been a terrible liar.
Myka exchanged a glance with her. Why hadn’t Joett assumed that Myka had already given Drake a name? This was the second time they had talked.
She cleared her throat. “It’s Mya-Mildred,” she said, turning to Drake. “One of those double names that everyone hates. Do we call her Mya? Do we call her Mildred? Or both? It’s so confusing.” She let out a laugh that definitely made her sound like a psycho.
“Mya-Mildred?” Drake said, repeating it back to himself.
Myka winced.
Mildred? Come on, Joett! Couldn’t you have come up with something more attractive than that? Like Analyn or Gwendalyn. Give me a “lyn” for heaven’s sake.
“Let’s just stick with Mya,” she said, pointing at Drake. Who points at people? It’s not cute. All of Myka’s non-flirting skills were showing up at the wrong time.
Everyone stared at each other for an awkward beat until Drake’s eyes zoomed in on her. “Well, Mya-Mildred,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes, “I’m glad I ran into you.” He stepped forward so that Joett couldn’t hear. “And I can’t wait until next month.”
Myka looked at Joett, hoping she didn’t hear that her and Drake had planned to meet each other again, because she didn’t know how she would ever explain that to her. “Enjoy your salt,” Myka said, with one big clap. The clap was almost as bad as the pointing.
Drake turned to go, smiling back at her. “Oh, I will.”
Joett walked up beside her. “What did he want?”
Myka shook her head. “Nothing.” Her voice sounded strange. “Except for salt.” She looked into Joett’s light blue eyes, nodding. “He bought salt.”
Joett shook her head like she didn’t believe her.
“Did you find the medicine?” Myka asked. “I should probably start heading back to Tolsten House.”
Joett placed a small bottle into the palm of her hand. “I did.”
Myka sighed, hugging her tightly around the shoulders. “Joett, you are a life saver, literally.”
“I hope the medicine works and that your father gets better soon.”
“I hope so too,” Myka said, burying her head into the hug. She glanced at Drake’s retreating back as he rounded the corner to the next aisle. She couldn’t think about Drake right now. She needed to focus on her father.
9
Myka
Myka nudged Bronze into a full gallop. She raced against an illness she hated. Now that she had Joett’s medicine, returning to her father’s side was all she could think about. She steered Bronze off of the main trail, leading him into the thick aspen forest and the path that led to the west gate where she would meet Arco.
She hadn’t been on the back trail very long when someone jumped out in front of her, arms up. She pulled on Bronze’s reins as hard as she could, trying to avoid a collision. The horse’s front legs lifted in the air, and her body raised out of the saddle. She held tighter to the straps, digging her feet into the stirrups and her thighs into the horse’s side. Bronze whinnied, and just when Myka thought she would fall back into the air, Bronze’s front legs landed on the ground again, lurching her forward in her seat. She glared at the man who had stepped in front of her horse.
Wait.
That wasn’t just any man; it was Drake. Myka would recognize that face anywhere. He was dressed in all black like always, and her pink scarf was wrapped around his arm.
Her breath burst out of her, matching her exploding heart rate. “Are you crazy!” she yelled, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. “I could’ve killed you!”
“Mya?” Drake’s face paled. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going home. What are you doing here?”
“I…uh…” He stared at her for a moment. The creases on his forehead deepened like he was as confused as she was.
Arco came up the path behind them. He must have been waiting outside the Tolsten wall for her to come back from the market. He prodded his horse forward. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between her and Drake.
Myka swallowed. “Yes, it’s fine. This man scared me and Bronze. That’s all.”
Drake’s gaze moved to Arco. There was a question behind his stare that scared Myka like this moment was big and significant. The stillness in the air made the hair on her arms stand up. She hadn’t thought Drake was dangerous. He was a friend of Rommel’s. He’d smiled and flirted with her earlier, but for some reason Myka’s heart pounded inside of her chest.
Drake looked around. Why had he stopped her? Something wasn’t right. It should have been easy to recognize the danger, but instead, Myka’s mind looked for reasons why everything was still okay. Normal. The trees around her rustled, and she swallowed back the sick feeling inside. Her eyes turned to Drake like he would put the puzzle pieces together for her, like he had a perfectly good explanation for the noises surrounding them, but his eyes seemed distant, shocked.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Drake grabbed her off of her horse, pulling her arms around her back as he lifted her to the ground. His fingers clamped around her skin uncomfortably.
She should have screamed, but her focus went to him and his tight grip.
“Get off me!” she yelled, fighting back with violent jerks of her body. When that didn’t work, she sucked in the air around her and let out a high-pitched scream. “Arco! Help!” But from where she stood, she couldn’t see Arco or what he was doing.
Drake’s hand closed around her mouth, and his lips spoke close to her ear. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I’m sorry?
She tried to let out another loud scream.
“Yelling is pointless,” he whispered. “No one will hear you.”
Then why was his hand covering her mouth?
She had to do something. She twisted her body furiously, not giving up, until somehow she wiggled an arm free, throwing it back behind her. Her elbow acted like a knife against the corner of Drake’s eye, making his head jolt to the side. The hit split his skin open, and blood dripped down the side of his face.
He released her mouth, but instead of reaching for his now bleeding eye, he wrapped his arms around hers, restraining her movements. “Stop fighting me. We have you surrounded,” he said through heavy breaths.
His words took a moment to register inside her head. Myka’s eyes scanned the area. Five other men on horses circled around them. When had they appeared? Who were they? What did they want? It was amazing how quickly her mind rotated through those questions while also assessing the danger closing in on her. Myka’s neck stiffened, and a stabbing pain seared through her heart. How would she save her father? Escape these men?
“Princess Mykaleen,” one of the men said. He looked older than the rest, with gray and white hair. A thick beard covered his face, matching his hair color. His eyes glanced down at her from atop his horse. How did he know her name? Know that she was the princess? Since her mind couldn’t sort that out, her thoughts wandered to his age. He seemed old—too old to be ambushing a young girl. But was there really a good age for that sort of thing? “There’s no point in fighting us.”
What the old man said seemed pretty logical. There probably wasn’t any point, but that didn’t stop Myka from screaming as loud as she could again. It didn’t take long before Drake’s hand covered her mouth, making her taste the saltiness of his skin.
Behind her, Bronze whinnied, and she struggled to turn her head to the sound. She squinted her eyes to get a better look. Arco sat on his horse, holding Bronze’s reins. He had a pained expression on his face, but he wasn’t making any moves. Why wasn’t he doing anything to help her? The old man and the other riders nodded in Arco’s direction like they had some sort of secret code. Myka should have been concerned about that nod—that little gesture—but her mind couldn’t make sense of it. She wiggled her bo
dy furiously until Drake dropped his hand from her mouth.
“What’s going on here?” she yelled to Arco. His chin dropped, and his gaze fell away from her. “Arco, what’s going on?” she demanded.
“Tie her up.” The older man spoke again.
Myka’s stomach went hard. Things were moving too quickly to process. Another man with shaggy brown hair dismounted his horse and began walking toward her. He approached her slowly, inching closer with each footstep...and was that a knife in his hand?
The air escaped Myka’s lungs.
It was a knife.
“Arco?” she yelled, but her voice sounded strange between her ringing ears.
“He’s not here to help you,” Drake said.
Myka turned over her shoulder to look at Drake. His expression was unreadable, and somehow his grip seemed to tighten around her arms.
“I should’ve killed you!” she screamed at him as the shaggy hair guy pulled out a rope and began tying it around her waist. “Shot you in the chest!” Tears stung her eyes.
“What’s she talking about?” the older man asked, looking at Drake.
Drake shook his head. “I met her today in the market…in passing.”
In passing?
Myka jerked her body against his.
“Is that going to be a problem?” the one with the goatee asked.
Myka looked up at Drake’s clenched jaw, a jaw she wished she could punch.
“Not for me,” he said. “I don’t even know the girl.”
She couldn’t believe it. “Why are you doing this?”
He looked away.
Nothing.
There was no answer.
No explanation.
Her focus turned to Arco. He sat on his horse, completely unfazed by the fact that Drake restrained her. Was he with these men—against her? It looked like it. He’d betrayed her. The pain struck deep and hard. It all made sense now why Arco had always been so eager to help her escape Tolsten House over the last few years. He had been setting up this moment—setting up this kidnapping. How could she have trusted him?
She bared her teeth. “You did this!” she spat at Arco. “How could you? I trusted you!”
His eyes finally met hers. “It’s for the best. For Tolsten.”
What was he even saying? How was this for the best?
“They won’t hurt you,” Arco replied, trying to reassure her.
Myka let out a rough laugh. “They have knives!”
Drake released her arms, and the other man grabbed her by the wrist, tying another rope around her hands.
“How dare you!” she said into the man’s face. “I am the princess of Tolsten.”
“You're not my princess,” the man said under his breath.
She tried to fight back, but their hold on her body was too strong. She watched helplessly as the man tied her wrists together in front of her.
They were kidnapping her.
Her. The princess.
What about Myka’s father? She wouldn’t be able to get the medicine to him. He might die tonight, and she wouldn’t even be there. Maybe she could ask Arco to take it to him, but he didn’t even know that the king was sick. She’d be letting him and her kidnappers know if she said something right now.
Drake reached for the rope that had already been tied around her waist. She turned her head and met his eyes.
“Why?” she asked with tears in her eyes, but he still didn’t answer.
Drake, who was friends with Rommel, was a bad guy. Did that mean that Rommel and Joett were bad too? Were they in on the kidnapping?
She was stunned to silence for a moment as she tried to work through what was happening, but something inside of her snapped—some sort of lifesaving mechanism. She began screaming and kicking, writhing against the ropes tied to her.
“Help!” she yelled. “Help me!” There was no one around to hear her cries. Tolsten House was still a mile away, but she continued to scream into the vast afternoon sky—it was the only thing she could do.
Drake and the other man worked between her wild limbs until they had her restrained again. Tears dripped down her face, and she looked at Arco. What kind of guard was he? How could he let these men take her?
“You’re nothing like Quaker Oats!” she screamed at Arco.
She didn’t know anything about Quaker Oats, but if she did, she was sure Arco wasn’t as good of a man as he had been.
Arco glanced away, not answering her.
“I’ll never forgive you!” she yelled through her tears. “Wait until my father finds out what you’ve done. He’ll kill you!” She twisted her body one last time, then sank into herself, losing all strength. Drake tried to get her to stand on her feet, but her legs were too weak, and she collapsed onto the dirt. Tears blinded her vision, and her fingers dug into the cool soil, grasping for some sort of solid ground.
Drake stood above her, and she blinked the moisture out of her eyes, trying to see what he was doing. He knotted the other end of the rope around his belt.
There would be no way to escape now.
A loud sob racked through her.
What if she never saw her father again?
What if he died before someone ever found her?
It would all be Drake’s fault. Her father’s death would be on his hands.
The old man pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Arco. “These are our terms for the kidnapping.” The old man gestured to a man beside him who had so many muscles, he almost looked fat. “Kase Kendrick will be waiting back at the Denton Inn for the king’s response. There are instructions inside of our letter about how the king is to communicate with our man.”
Arco nodded. “I’ll see that your letter gets put with the other Tolsten House mail that comes in tomorrow. The king won’t see it until then.”
Myka looked at the men, trying to focus on their conversation.
The terms for the kidnapping?
“I’ll take her horse back to Tolsten House, so nobody knows the princess went out,” Arco said.
The bald man with the dark goatee spoke up. “What about the stable hands? Won’t they know you left?”
“No,” Arco said, shaking his head. “We saddled the horses ourselves.”
The world seemed to slow down as Arco prodded the horses forward. Myka reached her tied hands out as if he would somehow reconsider leaving her with these men, but he didn’t. A swell of emotion filled her chest, suffocating her. She watched helplessly as Arco rode off, leaving her with the men and their knives.
Arco was another person in her life who had betrayed her. And so were Rommel and Joett. For years, she had mistakenly thought they were trusted friends and that the fondness was mutual, but they had just been pretending. They were with Drake today. They had to be a part of this somehow, consorting with him, aiding and abetting a kidnapper. Why else would he have been at their house, visiting them? The realization pulled her sorrow down to the deepest place. Oddly, the pain reminded her of the day her mother had left. Her father was the only person she could trust, the only person who hadn’t betrayed her. She had to find her way back to him somehow.
“Wait for the king’s response,” the old man said to the muscle man. “We’ll meet you back at camp in a few days.”
Muscle man nodded.
Myka hoped her father was even alive in the morning. If he wasn’t, who would come for her then?
10
Drake
There had been so many clues—the gun, the colored scarf, the mention of a pre-Desolation magazine, the fact that Drake only ever saw Mya on the sixteenth of the month, the weird name thing with Rommel’s wife. How had he missed every clue? It was Rommel who had thrown him off. Why would the old man work against the king and be such good friends with Adler’s daughter? Was this some kind of trap? Drake didn’t think so. He’d been investigating Rommel for the past few months. He’d done his homework, but he’d missed one very big detail. Mya was Princess Mykaleen, and each mo
nth she snuck out to see Rommel and Joett.
It didn’t add up, but one thing was for sure, Drake needed to get his head in the game.
He needed to summon all of his professionalism. This was a job, and from this moment on, the princess would be nothing more than a means to an end. That’s how it had to be. Drake had bigger goals and things going on than his five-second attraction to Princess Mykaleen.
His heart had dropped when he’d first realized who Myka was. It was one thing to kidnap someone, but another thing to kidnap someone you liked. The fact that Drake had met her before and liked her complicated things. Now Drake felt sick. From the beginning, he had been against the Council’s plan to kidnap Adler’s daughter. This new revelation made it worse. If he had known he’d been talking to King Adler’s daughter, he would have behaved differently. Drake would have acted like a soldier. He wouldn’t have flirted with her or swapped stories about scars. He would have used his time to try and find out about the weapons.
But there was nothing he could do about that now. He had to leave all of his mistakes in the past and move forward like a soldier.
He had to ignore the weeping girl sitting in front of him on his horse. She was sad and broken, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t comfort her or make her feel better, and he hated that. He hated being the bad guy. His father had drilled into his head to never make a woman cry, and when it came to Mykaleen Adler, that was exactly what Drake had done. But this was different.
He did this for Albion.
He sucked in a deep breath, driving his horse forward even faster. He needed this horseback ride to be over as soon as possible.
Drake wasn’t sure how much longer he could helplessly watch the princess sob.
Myka
After Arco had left, Shaggy Hair had lifted Myka’s crying body onto Drake’s horse while he swung a leg up over the saddle behind her.
The Stolen Princess: A YA Dystopian Romance (Desolation Book 3) Page 8
