Page 8

Chapter eight

A s I walk into the breakfast room, Llywelyn doesn’t even deign to look up at me. He is fully dressed and looks immaculate. Not a hair out of place. He keeps his attention on the window and the view of the gardens, while he chews an apple.

I grind my teeth and take a seat. He is being petty and I’m being ridiculous for allowing his behaviour to rile me.

I’ve showered and dressed. Both took a while, especially since getting dressed required Tae’s help. All in all, it’s been an hour since the prince coldly walked away from me. I should be over my indignation that he didn’t react to my wonderful hand job.

Yet here I am, instantly irritated because he is not looking at me. What has happened to my professionalism?

Scowling to myself, I snatch up a bowl of berries and start shovelling them into my mouth. They taste delicious, but I can’t truly enjoy them because this little twat is still ignoring me.

“The pets at the wrestling match said they weren’t human?” I bite out. As much as I hate this git, I have a job to do.

Golden eyes finally look at me and it feels like the sun has come out from behind the clouds.

“They were wolf shifters,” he says calmly, as if that fact is unremarkable.

I suck in a quick breath. “And they are native to Earth?”

“Yes.” Is all he says before turning his attention back to the window.

“Why didn’t you tell me this!” I snap .

Llywelyn shrugs and somehow manages to make the gesture look both refined and elegant. “It’s not my fault you do not honour your ancestors.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I splutter. What the hell is he talking about? What do ancestors have to do with anything?

The prince sighs as if he is the long suffering one. “Your ancestors left written records and oral stories about werewolves, vampires, kelpies, dragons. All sorts of paranormal beings. Yet you arrogantly dismissed your ancestors as being ignorant, uneducated and having overactive imaginations.”

I stare at the prince. I think I am genuinely lost for words. He is telling me that creatures from stories are just as real as the fey. And if that wasn’t enough, somehow this little twat is making it sound as if I am personally responsible for all of humanity’s shortcomings.

But before I can gather my thoughts, the door flings open and three fey males stride into the room. The tallest has moon pale hair and magnificent antlers. The one on the left has lilac hair done up very ornately and jet black horns that curl backwards. The one on the right has glossy nut-brown hair and brown horns that remind me of a goat’s.

Llywelyn flows to his feet and his hand quickly runs over his short golden hair and absent horns. For a brief moment, I feel a pang of misguided sympathy. But then I turn my attention back to where it needs to be, focusing on the potential threat. Or in this case, triple threats.

The unexpected visitors are far more striking in real life than their photos capture, but I can still identify them. The brown-haired man is Prince Selwyn, the one with purple hair is Prince Mabon, and the most imposing man is Prince Rhydian. The crown prince. The one I am going to help overthrow .

For all intents and purposes, he is a king. It is only out of respect for his mother and father who remain ruling in the fey lands that his title is crown prince.

However, standing here before him, it’s extremely apparent to every cell in my body, that this is a king in every sense of the word.

I force a swallow down my throat. I suddenly feel a lot more daunted by the task than I did before. This guy has presence. It radiates off of him like an intimidating aura.

Llywelyn glares at his brothers and crosses his arms. “Should I be flattered by this private audience, or is it simply because you can’t be seen addressing a resyn in your throne room?”

Mabon, the purple-haired prince, rolls his amethyst eyes. “We need to talk to you because you have taken a human pet.”

Llywelyn lifts his chin. “So what if I have?”

“You killed your last pet!” exclaims Prince Mabon.

My gaze snaps to Llywelyn and my heart thuds against my ribcage. This is startling, terrifying and sickening news.

Llywelyn pales slightly. “That wasn’t me. The tylwyth died after I gave it away.”

A tense, disgruntled silence falls while Llywelyn’s brothers glare at him and he glares back. It is making my stomach squirm uncomfortably with all sorts of conflicting emotions. Three against one isn’t fair. It’s irking my sense of justice. But on the other hand, Llywelyn is a vile little twat who deserves the worst.

“Perhaps, Brother, giving any living being to the alltudid, was not wise,“ Selwyn says softly.

I hide my disorientated wince at the translator glitching and allowing the brown-haired prince’s true word to reach my mind. I’m going to deduce that the translator can’t cope with that particular word. I’m going to have to ask Llywelyn about it later.

Llywelyn bristles at his brother’s rebuke, but he says nothing.

It is Rhydian who speaks next. In a deep and rumbling voice. “We wish to win the humans over. Taking them as pets does not help win their trust. ”

Llywelyn’s golden eyes flash. “Like you took Jamie?”

The frown that forms on the crown prince’s face would scare the crap out of me if it were directed my way. But Llywelyn meets it evenly. Without even a flinch. I have to respect that, begrudgingly.

“Dismiss your pet,” orders Rhydian.

Oh for fuck’s sake. I need to stay so I can spy. I look at Llywelyn. Hopefully he has an excuse up his sleeve.

He clicks his fingers at me and points at the door, dashing my hopes without even looking away from his brother. What a fucking pompous little asshole.

Seething, I leave the room, careful to make my body language meek and cowed. As soon as I step out of the breakfast room and into the sitting room, I am accosted by two humans.

I exaggerate my flinch and widen my eyes in surprise.

“Hi! I’m Jamie,” says one of the humans brightly.

I don’t think I need my training to figure out that this must be James Broadwith, illegitimate eldest child of media tycoon Graham Grantham. The first human to be taken as a pet by the fey. Claimed by the crown prince himself. And now, as far as anyone can tell, married. Very happily married.

How anyone can fall in love with their captor is beyond me, but apparently it happens. As for Rhydian falling for his pet, that is not surprising.

This young man smiling warmly at me is gorgeous. Pretty as a picture. All gleaming hair and large, kind eyes. A proper little sweetie.

I press my palms together and bow low. “Namaste.”

Jamie’s eyes widen with surprise. Then he hastily copies my bow. “Namaste.”

Yep. Definitely a little sweetie.

I turn to his companion, an absolute giant of a man who is mostly naked.

“Namaste,” I say solemnly as I bow again .

The hulk clumsily repeats my greeting, both the gesture and the word. His olive complexion flushes. Another adorable soul. He must be Blake, the human claimed by Prince Mabon.

My eyes narrow as I try to read him more intently. My briefing said that Blake had been a leader of the civilian Resistance movement, but after his capture, he appears to have switched allegiance to the fey. He seems too nice to be a traitor. I wonder if he is more devious and cunning than he looks? He could be playing the long game and actually still on our side. Or he could have simply been swayed by the opportunity to regularly fuck Prince Mabon. The lilac haired prince is certainly beautiful. I can see how some would be tempted.

Whatever his motives, Blake’s open and honest seeming face is giving nothing away. I’ll have to keep my eye on him and hope that time will tell.

“Come! Let’s have tea. We want to hear all about how Llywelyn has been treating you.”

Jamie leads me over to a table by the window that has been set with a silver tea set. I take my seat while frantically trying to gather my thoughts and figure out what angle I need to take.

Do I claim cruelty and garner pity? Nothing loosens tongues like a good dose of pity. But if I overdo it, they might intervene even more than they are doing now and I could find myself whisked away from Llywelyn. Which wouldn’t help the mission at all.

On the other hand, saying it has been sunshine and roses and I’m falling in love or lust like these two have, is probably deeply unbelievable given the nature of Llywelyn’s character.

As for the truth, well, that can never be uttered. As much as I would like to vent about how much I hate the little shithead and how conflicted I feel about fucking him and how infuriated I am that he was unmoved by my highly skilled hand job.

Jamie pours tea with the easy proficiency of someone accustomed to fancy tea sets. He is definitely at home here. His entire body language is relaxed and happy. There is a little bit of tension in his shoulders, but that’s likely because he is worried about me and not sure what he can do to help.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I pick up my cup.

Blake takes a sip of his tea. He seems content to let Jamie take the lead in this intervention. Maybe the big guy really does like being bossed around.

“So,” says Jamie as he looks right at me with concerned filled eyes. “Tell us everything.”

I take in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.