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Cedric Raine

“You’ve lost your mind, Cedric!”

I lean back against my desk, arms crossed over my chest, as I watch the three men gape at me. If anybody else spoke to me in this manner, I would rip their heads off for disrespect, but these men are different. I trust them with my life.

Even a king needs people he can trust.

Derrick Fenrin, Edgar Lee, and Rothan Bader. I grew up with Derrick. Edgar saved my life during a battle. And Rothan? He’s the youngest of us all, the son of the head maid in my castle, Harriet. I trained him myself at her request. Their opinions matter to me but not about everything.

“She’s the enemy,” Edgar points out, his demeanor unruffled. “You can’t be serious about this.”

“We proved to the East that the North is not to be taken lightly. Their kingdom fell, and we captured their prized jewel. The girl is not the enemy. She’s a foolish female who can be used as a tool to control the remaining royal family of the Eastern Kingdom.”

“But mating her?” Derrick explodes at my explanation. “Why can’t we keep her as a political prisoner? Throw her in the dungeon. Keep her alive and use her as leverage—”

My voice turns harsh. “Vivian is a symbol within the Eastern Kingdom. Imprisoning her will force the war to continue. I don’t want to waste my time and my people squashing rebellions around our borders. The girl’s uncle is desperate for her freedom. We’ll put him on the throne and make sure they watch themselves.”

“How do you know she’ll even agree to mate you?” Rothan speaks up, glancing at me. “She was terrified of you.”

Silence fills my office, and Edgar frowns. “I was rather unimpressed, to be honest. I was sure she would kick up a fuss. From every account I’ve heard of her, she was supposedly arrogant and prideful. I didn’t see that. I just saw a scared girl, not a seasoned aristocrat.”

“Because she was too busy pissing herself,” Derrick sneers.

I can understand Derrick’s anger. After all, it was his cousin who was killed by Vivian. Not a close relative, but a member of his family nonetheless, and he wants blood. However, as king, it is up to me to maintain balance among the wolf kingdoms, and the North is not equipped to rule the East. I cannot make a decision based on emotions, and I know my friend understands this.

“There’s another problem that Vivian’s presence will solve,” I point out. “She’s a pureblood. No matter which noblewoman I took as my mate, she would not be of royal blood. Vivian fixes that problem. She will bear royal heirs and therefore is perfectly suited.”

Derrick reluctantly agrees. “At least I got to kill her father.”

He doesn’t know the half of it. Princess Vivian is a spoiled little girl. Her father was the true mastermind, attempting to ignite the war so that he could seize control of the mines hidden in the rocky terrain of the Northern Kingdom. Living in his plush palace surrounded by luxury, the old fool did not understand the true might of the Northern wolves. We thrive in harsh conditions. We are giants on the battlefield.

“An eye for an eye,” Edgar murmurs in approval.

Rothan is studying me, a strange expression on his face. “There was something else I noticed, Cedric. When you first saw the princess, I felt something.”

They’ve all sworn blood oaths to me, so I shouldn’t be surprised that they felt a fraction of the jolt I experienced upon locking eyes with the exquisite beauty that is the Princess of the East.

“It’s irrelevant.”

All eyes turn toward me, and Derrick says slowly, “Now that I think about it, I felt something strange, too.”

I had no intention of revealing the truth because I had thought out my plan of how to deal with Princess Vivian before we even launched our attack. However, my men want to know, and there’s no reason to hide it. “She seems to be my fated mate. My wolf recognized her.”

Derrick stills. “That murdering bitch?”

My wolf growls under its breath, but I ignore it. “It’s not a huge deal.”

“Not a huge deal?” Derrick stares at me, pale. “It’s fucking convenient though, isn’t it? You get to mate her, and she stays alive.”

My brows knit together. “It’s not in my hands, Derrick. I didn’t choose her.”

“Then execute her,” he says harshly. “If it’s so irrelevant and you don’t care, just kill her. No one will be the wiser.”

I stare at him while considering the value of the woman. I’m sure there are other ways I can control the Eastern Kingdom. “If that is what will satisfy your desire for revenge, it’s acceptable to me.”

Edgar and Rothan hiss. “You can’t be serious! She’s your fated mate!”

I hold up my hand, calm. “It was Derrick’s family that was harmed. She may be my fated mate, but his desire for revenge is equally important. She’ll be executed at dawn.” Turning around, I gather the papers on my desk and walk over to the shelf behind me to place them there. I can deal with them in the morning. “If there’s nothing further, I think we should all head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

I walk toward the door, but Derrick stops me, his voice low. “Hold on.”

Annoyed, I look at him. “Whatever it is, can’t it wait? I want to eat and have a bath. And you smell worse than me.”

He winces. “I’m not sure who smells worse right now, but I don’t want you to execute your fated mate.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter to me. Not all wolves seek out their fated mates. I don’t like being controlled by the Goddess—”

“Well, I don’t believe that,” my friend says abruptly. “A fated mate is a gift. And honestly, I can’t see any other woman putting up with you aside from your fated mate. You should go ahead with what you were planning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I walk past him, and he trails after me.

“I don’t want you to kill her, Cedric. I forgive her.”

I pause. “You forgive her? You forgive her the blood of your family?”

“Yes,” he growls. “I believe in fated mates. I don’t want you to miss out on yours. I killed her father. I killed someone precious to her. That makes us even. I can live with that.”

“Maybe you can, but I won’t force you to make this choice based on—”

“Cedric, it’s my decision!” he snaps. “I’m telling you to mate the girl! Not everybody gets to meet their fated mate. No matter your views on the subject, I won’t have you walk away from her for me!”

Edgar and Rothan voice their agreement from behind me.

“Fine.” I glare at Derrick. “You have till tomorrow to change your mind. Now, I need to bathe. Get out of my way.”

He moves aside but not before pretending to gag as I walk past him. That earns him a punch in his gut, and as I walk away, I hear him groaning while Edgar tells him, “You had that coming.”

A hot shower and a meal relax my muscles, and I head to my chambers. When I open the door, however, I’m assailed by a rich scent that has me stopping in my tracks. My wolf snarls.

Intruder!

Before I can react, I smell something else, a soft, earthy scent that’s quite familiar to me. It’s buried under that rich aroma, and once my wolf recognizes it, it rumbles in approval.

Did Harriet bring the woman here?

I told her to—

No, I didn’t tell her what to do with the princess. She must have assumed I wanted her in my chambers. I ring the rope for the bell attached to Harriet’s quarters before closing the door behind me and searching the room for the woman. She’s not on the bed. She’s not on the chair…

I pause.

There’s a small figure curled up in front of the fire.

Frowning, I walk over and look down at her.

Her hair is spread out behind her—a beautiful, ebony black, with long, glistening strands fanning out from her head. The girl is curled into a tiny ball, and even after having cleaned up and put on some fresh clothes, she still looks gaunt. I saw Princess Vivian once at a gathering for royals and nobles. She was an exquisite creature, but her eyes made my skin crawl. Still, I would have recognized her as my fated mate the moment we met.

So, why now?

The woman moans in her sleep, curling herself up even tighter, and I feel a tinge of annoyance. If she had to lie down, she should have just lay down on the bed. Leaning over, I pick her up in my arms. I’m not surprised by how light she is. The princess weighs next to nothing.

I carry her over to the bed and slowly lower her onto it. I study her as she begins to shiver. The cold of the North must not suit her. She’ll have to get accustomed to it, though.

Her hair falls over her face when she moves in her sleep. Without thinking, I remove the strands from her cheek. My hand looks massive compared to those small features. I could crush her head in my fist.

The idea amuses me, but when she shivers again, I pull the blanket up over her body.

There’s a knock on the door, and I walk over to answer it.

It’s Harriet, her face pallid. “I have a message for you, Your Majesty.”

I glance at the sleeping woman and nudge my head to the side. “In the sitting room.”

She blinks in surprise. The sitting room has not been opened since my mother passed. It is cleaned by Harriet, but I’ve never gone in. She must have assumed it was for sentimental reasons. Maybe it was.

She follows me into the adjoining room and sits down on the sofa beside me.

“Rothan received a message from one of your men in the East. I was already coming to see you, so I said I would pass it on to you.” She hesitates. “He insisted he should come himself, but I could tell he was tired.”

A flicker of a smile plays on my lips. Harriet is Rothan’s mother. She still worries about him.

She hands me a folded piece of paper. I open the message and read the contents.

Deceased woman with the mark on her wrist found just outside the palace in a maid’s uniform. Badly disfigured. Jewels on her.

I press my lips together, crumpling the paper in my hand, my mood darkening.

I was right.

“What did you want to talk about, Harriet?” I turn my attention toward the woman who oversees the upkeep of this entire castle.

“The princess bears marks of abuse,” she says quietly. “There are scars on her back and other parts of her body that are concealed by clothing.”

“Scars?” I feel confused. “Wolf shifters rarely have scars.”

“Scars are possible if the wounds are constantly opened over and over again, or if the wound is too grievous. It can also be that she was not allowed to see a healer. I do not know the circumstances, Sire, but I did apply a healing balm. It did not work. Perhaps if we keep applying it repeatedly, it may.”

“What about her demeanor?”

She shakes her head. “Quiet, subdued. She’s very polite. I got your letter when you started your journey back, so when you arrived, I observed her closely. She doesn’t behave like royalty. One of the maids ran her an ice-cold bath to play a prank, and the girl didn’t make a sound.”

My wolf bristles in anger. “I want that maid fired.”

Harriet nods. “She also had a hard time keeping food down. If you intend to keep her alive, I want you to give her this.”

She holds out a small vial filled with a blue liquid.

“What is it?”

“An antidote. I—” She hesitates. “When I was working under your mother in the espionage team, I came across a poison in the East. It rots away the insides of a wolf shifter over a period of time, forcing the consumer to be unable to digest food. The girl’s symptoms are the same. I believe she was poisoned repeatedly.”

“I see.” My hand wraps around the bottle. “And you are sure this is the antidote?”

“I’ve seen it used. It is now produced in-house and has been tested.”

She stands to leave, but I stop her. “I plan to keep her, Harriet. She will be the queen.”

Harriet blinks slowly. “I see.”

“If what you say is true, then I cannot leave her in the hands of the other maids. I want you to be her maid. You’ll still maintain your duties as the head maid, but you are the only one I want by her side. I also want you to keep an eye on her. I don’t trust her.”

“I understand. And the mating ceremony?”

“It will be done quickly. Tomorrow. I have things to do, and I’m not going to waste time on some grand event.”

“Very well. I’ll have the chef make food that will be easy on her stomach. I’ll also have a healer come in and take a look at her after the ceremony.”

“He just needs to make sure she can bear heirs.”

Harriet glances at me. “And the queen’s involvement with the kingdom?”

I gesture with my hand. “Keep an eye on her. If she does anything suspicious, report to me. I’m just interested in her ability to produce the next king, nothing more. Let her amuse herself as she sees fit.”

Harriet exits the room, but I linger, looking around. This was my mother’s sitting area. It has been years since she and my father were assassinated by the rebels in the Eastern Kingdom. Despite the fact that Harriet cleans in here weekly, I can still smell that familiar scent of roses. My mother loved roses. Her sitting room was always adorned with them.

I get to my feet. There’s no point in lingering in the past. There’s nothing useful there anymore.

Tonight, I’ll sleep. And tomorrow, I’ll deal with the woman lying in my bed.

Because whoever that woman is, she is not Princess Vivian.