Page 11 of Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden #2)

11

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

“Hold still,” Violet chided War as she tried to braid the quill sheaths on the back of his head. She’d seen a new style of braid on a woman in town that she wanted to learn.

War visited Violet most afternoons, and today she’d taken one look at his long, soft sheaths and begged him to let her practice. He’d huffed loudly, turned his back to her, and sat in front of the settee in her parents’ living room while she practiced repeatedly.

“I’m almost done,” she promised, earning a rumbling purr in return.

A forceful knock on the front door ruined her concentration and sent a spike of fear through her. Violet scrambled to the floor and tried to slide under the settee, but the decorative scrollwork on the frame made it too tight a squeeze. If she could just lift it and slide under, she’d be fine.

Rolling onto her back, she grabbed the wooden frame and lifted it high. War, realizing her plan, put his nose under the frame to take some of the weight off. Ever so quietly, she slid under and lowered the settee, hoping the intruder left.

War never hid with her. She’d attempted to coax him into her bedroom closet a few times, but he always resisted. The cat was terrifying, but she couldn’t help but worry.

After another knock went unanswered, Violet heard the front door open, cranking up the pounding of her heart. Her family wouldn’t have knocked before entering, and the knowledge a stranger had entered her home uninvited sent Violet into a bigger panic. Heavy steps thumped across the wooden floor, akin to the way Clay and Abe had stomped through Roman’s rooms.

What if the rebels discovered she’d outed the rebel spy to her father? It’d been years, but what if ?

She clamped her lips together to keep from screaming. Stay quiet and they won’t find you.

“What are you doing here?” Roman’s deep voice took her by surprise. It took her a second to realize he spoke to War. She almost cried with relief, just as she did every time something like this happened.

Rolling her head to the side to stare at War’s paws, she focused on slowing her breathing until her hands stopped tingling and lost that heavy feeling. If the gods had any mercy, Roman would take War and leave.

“What do you mean?” Roman demanded. Violet had witnessed Roman and War’s conversations before, and she’d always wondered why the prince never responded in his mind. Assuming he could. She didn’t know.

“Violet?” Roman called out.

She stayed quiet, not wanting to face the embarrassment of being found hiding under a piece of furniture like a child.

And by Roman of all people.

Roman’s voice dipped lower. “Under the settee?”

War, you traitor.

Roman’s boots appeared, followed by his knees, then his hands and face. “Hey, princess. What are you doing under there?”

She sniffled, mad at herself for almost crying, and turned her head the other way. “Taking a nap.”

Silence followed the lie, and she thought maybe he’d leave. No such luck. “Will you come out?”

“I’m trying to sleep,” she clipped. “Please lock the door on your way out.”

“Either you come out or I’m coming under there,” he warned.

Dammit .

“You wouldn’t fit,” she muttered half-heartedly. Roman stood at least six foot four with broad shoulders and defined muscles everywhere. She’d be surprised if his arm fit past his elbow.

Defeated, she pushed at the settee’s underbelly to lift it. Roman stood and the entire piece of furniture levitated. Violet crawled out from under it, and Roman set it back in its place. She motioned to the settee. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”

He considered her for a beat, and she nervously smoothed down her hair. They’d said little more than short greetings since their conversation in the woods two years ago, and every encounter they had exuded awkwardness.

“Looking for War. I saw he was in your house.” Violet hated that Roman could spy through his familiar. She slitted her gaze at her feline friend for allowing the prince to spy, and Roman leaned over to run a finger down War’s quill sheaths. “Did you braid his sheaths?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I needed to practice.”

Roman rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide a smile, and she instinctively reached out to flick his forehead. His hand shot out and caught her wrist like many times before. The familiarity pricked at something deep inside her.

“You’re still too slow,” he teased. She rolled her eyes, and Roman dropped her wrist with a tip of his head toward the settee. “Why were you hiding?”

Violet busied herself by fussing with War’s sheaths to stall. She’d never been a good liar and decided to try her hand at deflection. “I’ll unbraid these and you can leave. It won’t take long.”

Roman touched her elbow gently, and she resisted the urge to shake him off. Pity was the last thing she wanted. “Talk to me, princess.”

And pity was what she got.

It made her want to punch something. His perfect nose seemed like a good place to start. “I’m fine.” She needed him to leave. Over the last two years she’d moved past her infatuation with the prince, but not completely. She suspected a piece of her would always belong to him, so she avoided him at all costs, even at their weekly dinners. “I want you to leave.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “No.”

She froze. “No? You can’t say no.” Is that his favorite word? she thought sourly. “Go. Away.”

War looked between them, and Violet considered asking him to drag Roman out by the scruff of his neck. Roman stared at her long enough to make her fidget, and she glanced at the door. If she opened it and pushed him hard enough, maybe he would stumble and she could close the door before he regained his footing.

“Is there something fun under there?” Roman mused.

She bristled at his teasing tone. “I will drag you out myself.”

Roman’s slow grin promised a fight if she tried, and she turned to War. “Are you strong enough to drag him out?” The beast nodded, and Violet pointed at the infuriating prince. “I will give you all the juicy steaks you could ever want and pet you for an hour every day if you’ll get him out of here.”

Roman shot forward and hauled Violet over his shoulder. She shrieked and struggled to escape his hold, but it was futile. He tutted. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Put me down,” she ordered, trying to see around the prince’s body. “War, a little help would be nice.”

“He won’t hurt me while I’m holding you,” Roman informed her. She could practically feel his shit-eating grin. To his credit, War looked disgruntled at the fact. “We can do this one of two ways. Either you tell me willingly, or I tote you around for the rest of the day until you do.”

“Grow up and put me down,” Violet commanded, pointing at the ground.

He squeezed her thigh. “No.”

“Is that the only word in your vocabulary?” she asked tartly.

“Only when you make demands of me that I cannot deliver,” he affirmed. “I won’t let this go.”

Resigning to her fate, she dropped her arms and hung like a dead body. “I feel safe under things, especially my bed.”

Roman lowered her to the ground, wrapped one of his hands around the back of her neck, and tilted her chin to look at him with the other. “What’s frightened you?” She tried to extract herself from his hold, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me who has you scared enough to hide.” The way he spoke promised of death, and it sent a chill down her spine.

“When you knocked, I thought it might have been rebels,” she admitted.

Roman’s murderous look turned stricken. “Princess,” he whispered and pulled her against his chest. “Nothing I say or do can make up for leaving you under that bed.” He buried his face in her hair and held her tight. “I’ll never forgive myself for doing this to you.”

He thinks it’s his fault? She pushed back and he reluctantly let her. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You know that, don’t you?” She watched him carefully, astonished to realize he did blame himself. “Your duty is to the people of this kingdom. You couldn’t protect any of them had you stayed with me. The rebels tried to hurt me that day, not you.”

“What’s going on here?” Vivian’s sharp voice cut through the air from the kitchen doorway. Violet tried to jump back, but Roman tightened his hold. How did I not hear her open the back door? Her sister must have seen Roman’s horse outside and deliberately snuck inside.

Violet tried to free herself again, but Roman simply stared down at her as though Vivian didn’t exist. “Let me go,” she whispered hotly.

Broken from his trance, he unwrapped his arms and faced his mate. “I scared your sister.”

Vivian’s astute gaze slid between Roman and Violet. Fighting with her sister was the last thing Violet wanted. They didn’t have much of a relationship to begin with, and Vivian’s barbed tongue always hit its mark when they squabbled. “He banged on the door, and I hid under the settee,” Violet explained.

Vivian pinched the bridge of her nose as if Violet exasperated her. “You can’t hide every time you hear a loud noise, Vi.” Violet ground her teeth together and reminded herself Vivian could beat the shit out of her, but gods did she want to grab Vivian’s braid and yank her to the ground. “She hid under her desk once at school and the teacher had to send for our father,” Vivian told Roman. “It’s ridiculous.”

Two years ago, Violet hadn’t known they were renovating the school building’s roof. The workers scaled the building undetected, but something slipped and a loud crash sounded against the roof, followed by yelling and footsteps above. Violet’s vision had tunneled and she’d fallen to her knees to hide. Slayton had crouched on the floor beside her and held her hand until her father arrived.

It had been humiliating, but Slayton had threatened everyone in class within an inch of their lives when they’d laughed. Violet couldn’t prove it, but she suspected someone told her classmates about the rebel attack after she left because other than the day it happened, no one made fun of her again.

Violet didn’t want to be gossip fodder, and until now, she hadn’t thought about that day in a long time.

War snarled and his blade-like quills shot out of his mane. Vivian stumbled backward and tried to hide behind Roman, but the prince slid out of the way.

“What is wrong with you?” he fumed. “She is your sister .”

Vivian regained her wits and whirled on Roman with vehemence. “Rebels are a part of our lives, and she needs to be ready to defend herself instead of running to hide at every little sound.” She motioned between herself and Violet. “How long until a rebel confuses her for me again?

“Everyone in the kingdom knows what I look like. Your parents made sure of that on our eighteenth birthdays when they sent a royal announcement to every news post in the kingdom with our pictures,” she said bitterly. “As long as I’m a target, so is she.”

Violet sucked in a sharp breath at the truth in her sister’s words. Not only had the rebels thought she was Vivian, but being mistaken for each other had happened their entire lives. A lot of people in the capital knew Vivian and Violet were twins, but there were still people who approached her thinking she was Vivian, especially now that everyone knew Viv would one day be queen.

Every time it happened, Violet debated coloring her hair.It wouldn’t change her face, but at least it would help distinguish her from the prince’s esteemed mate. She never followed through because she liked her hair—a perfect mixture of her mother’s bright red and her father’s black.

“What is your problem?” Violet tried to demand hotly, but to her chagrin, her voice wobbled with embarrassment. How dare her sister try to embarrass her this way? Vivian hadn’t almost died. Violet had.

Roman gently grabbed Violet’s shoulders and stooped to her eye level. “Hey. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.”

Violet slid her gaze from Viv to Roman. He shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

“Dad wants to train her to defend herself, but Mom won’t let him because of how skittish she is.”

Dad wants to train me? He’d never mentioned anything.

Vivian’s lip curled with disgust. “Everyone walks on eggshells around her, and I’m sick of it.” War growled again and positioned himself in front of Violet, encouraging Vivian to move back, and judging by the look on Roman’s face, he wanted to rip Vivian’s head from her body.

I hate you , Violet wanted to scream, even if her words held no real truth. Their parents told her healing didn’t have a time limit, that she’d been through a great ordeal and they understood. Were they secretly as frustrated with her as Vivian? She wrapped her arms around her stomach, wanting to disappear.

“Enough.” Roman’s lethal command stilled the air. He gave his full attention to Vivian, and uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “You saw the dismembered body parts of the men scattered around my room, but Violet heard them get ripped apart. Do you have any idea what it sounds like to hear bones torn from their sockets as a man begs for his life?

“You might know how to defend yourself, but you’ve never been near a rebel. Your sister had one wrap his filthy fingers around her. You might be able to fight for your life, but you’ve never had to, and you have no right to tell anyone to get over almost being murdered.”

Vivian’s face paled with Roman’s conviction, and so did Violet’s. She tried her best to block out the images that accompanied the memory.

Abe forcing his way under the bed.

War’s roar followed by agonizing screams.

War soaked in blood.

Body parts everywhere.

“You cannot begin to understand what she has been through,” Roman went on. “A queen must have compassion for their people. Not disdain because they perceive them as weak.”

Roman defending Violet threatened to rekindle the fire she’d worked so hard to put out. With one last glance in her direction, he motioned for War to follow him out. War licked Violet’s hand, growled at Vivian, and trailed the prince out of the cottage.

The air thickened with awkward tension, and Violet searched for words. But what could she say to her sister? Fuck you ? Those were the only words that came to mind.

“I’m sorry,” her sister sighed. “I might not like you, but I do love you.”

Violet stared unblinking at her sister, unsure whether to focus on the fact that Viv apologized or the admission that followed.

While Violet had always known Vivian didn’t like her, the confirmation from the horse’s mouth stung.

“I don’t want someone to hurt you because of me,” Vivian explained, “and I get so frustrated when you run and hide. If you continue on this way and you’re attacked, you won’t survive it.” With one last parting glance, Vivian grabbed a dagger out of her nightstand and left without a word.

Later that night, as Violet lay in bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Vivian’s words weren’t an apology; they were a warning.

* * *

Roman slammed his fist into the man’s ribs, relishing in the satisfying crunch of the bones giving way. The captive’s desperate pleas and gasping breaths echoed off the damp stone walls of the palace dungeon. The man’s screams melted like a calming balm over the shredded parts of Roman’s sanity.

Hit. Hit. Hit. Roman dropped his hands and stared at Kincaid, the rebel spy responsible for the attack that almost took Violet from him. Violet had told her father what she’d heard while hiding under Roman’s bed, and Edgar had relayed the information to the council. They’d apprehended the spy, a cook in the palace kitchens, and Roman had convinced his parents to keep the man alive under the guise of extracting information.

The council assumed by now the prisoner had died, but Roman had moved the man to an unused area of the dungeon and instructed the guards to keep the rebel alive and to mention his presence to no one. They didn’t dare question their future king.

Roman had been visiting Kincaid for years, determined to make him regret every decision leading up to the day he’d betrayed his kingdom.

The tremble in Violet’s voice as she asked Roman to stay rang in his ears, and he hit Kincaid again. The image of her peeking at him from under the bed as she told him she was scared wouldn’t go away . He reared back and knocked the man unconscious.

Violet showed no signs of distress when he watched her, and her sleep seemed peaceful. How had he missed her lingering fear, and why hadn’t War told him?

Vivian’s mockery made him hit Kincaid’s limp form again. He had no doubt she’d hurt Violet because she’d found her in Roman’s arms, innocent as it may have been. He and Viv weren’t together. They had an understanding to put on a show for the public, but romantically, they couldn’t care less about the other. Vivian still had a lover, and Roman still followed Violet, but Vivian didn’t know that, and her treatment of Violet was unacceptable.

“You’re useless if you break your hands,” Ares remarked as he sauntered into the cell.

Roman wanted to ignore his friend, but the man spoke true. Fae had magic, but that magic did not include rapid healing or immortality. Broken hands wouldn’t stop him, but they would make fighting more difficult.

Roman stalked out of the cell and addressed the guard outside of it. “Have him cleaned up and treated. We can’t let our friend die from an infection.” Death would be too easy.

Ares caught up to Roman quickly in the dark hallway of the dungeon. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He asked the same question every time they visited Kincaid, and as Roman did every time, he changed the subject. “I think Vivian is seeing someone,” he replied, using her as a scapegoat. “Have you heard anything about it?”

“No.” Ares eyed Roman with an annoyingly perceptive look on his face. “I’m surprised you care. Have you asked her about it?”

Roman swiped at the speckles of blood on his face. “She denied it.” Lying to his best friend felt wrong, but confessing his obsession with Violet was out of the question. Roman thumped his chest. “I can feel it. I’m going to confront her again tonight.”

“If she is, she’s convinced him to keep quiet because fucking the future queen would be something anyone would brag about.” Ares tilted his head side to side. “Or they don’t want to be charged with treason.”

Roman cracked his neck. Tonight, he’d demand Vivian put a stop to her affair. He didn’t give a shit who she fucked, but he’d not allow her to hurt Violet without consequence. Taking away her ability to be with the person she wanted seemed like a good start. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

Ares handed Roman a towel to clean himself. “How’s Violet?”

“How would I know?” Roman challenged. He scarcely spoke to Violet in public, and he ensured no one saw him follow her around. Ares couldn’t possibly know anything.

His friend grinned from ear to ear. “Because I saw your eyes glaze over to connect with War earlier, and he’s always with her in the afternoons.”

Roman made a mental note to glamour himself before connecting with War. “I wanted to see what he was doing,” Roman lied again. He lied a lot these days.

Ares slapped him on the back. “Can you tell the big guy to put in a good word for me?”

Roman went rigid, unable to feign nonchalance. “Why?”

Ares laughed loudly, the sound grating on Roman’s nerves. “I’m just fucking with you.” He flashed perfect teeth that Roman wanted to knock out of his head. “I can ask her out myself.” Roman stopped walking, and Ares followed suit. “Is there a reason you don’t want me asking out your future sister-in-law?”

Roman eyed Ares up and down. The man had light sand skin with dark brown hair and almost matched Roman in height. Most people attracted to men found him appealing. Does Violet?

Roman blanked his expression. “Why do you want to ask out Violet?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ares lifted a hand and counted on his fingers. “She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. She’s funny.” He grinned widely. “Have you heard the little jokes she tells? They’re ridiculous, but she looks damn cute telling them.” Roman’s muscles readied to attack. How did Ares know about her jokes? “I like her style. She’s smart.”

“I get it,” Roman bit out. Not many men asked Violet out; he’d made sure of it over the years because he needed more time to find a way to make her his. He’d considered more than once begging her to secretly marry him to break his bond with Vivian, but he knew Violet would never do that to Viv, no matter how badly she treated her.

Roman had stopped threatening them over the last year, and stopped altogether when his parents announced Vivian as the future queen. It wouldn’t take long for gossip of an affair to spread, and he’d not put that on Violet.

He had no intention of marrying Vivian, but it’d do him no favors for the citizens in his kingdom to know their future king pined for another woman. Some people were royalists and zealously worshipped anything to do with the royal fae, including mate bonds. Some royalists thought if they could touch a royal or their mate that some of the gods’ blessing would transfer to them. If they suspected Roman intended on breaking that sacred bond, they would do anything necessary to keep it from happening.

“You should do it,” Roman suggested through gritted teeth. If Violet said yes, he’d reassign Ares to another kingdom. The Mountain Kingdom sounded nice. And far.

Ares burst out laughing as they ascended the stairs out of the cool dungeon. “I’m kidding, Rome.”

Roman considered snapping his best friend’s neck. He didn’t think he’d miss him that much. “You think Violet is a joke?” he asked without an ounce of humor. “Do you not think she’s good enough?”

Ares held up his hands, all jesting gone. “I meant what I said about her, but I’d never touch her. I don’t know what your deal is with your mate’s twin, but I respect you too much to go there.”

Roman needed to mask his emotions better. Her safety depended on it, and that meant until he either found a way to transfer the bond or convince Violet to marry him anyway, he needed to pretend better with Vivian.

* * *

That night, Roman placed his hand on Vivian’s back and ushered her into her favorite tavern. “I’m glad you agreed to join me,” he said, forcing a smile for the benefit of their audience.

Vivian fluttered her lashes, putting on an excellent show of the doting fiancée. “Me too.”

The woman was a wildcard, and he had no idea how she’d react to what he had to say.

Once they had their food, Roman leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table. “Are you still seeing someone?” So much for easing into it.

Vivian stopped chewing and Roman saw the wheels turning in her mind. She swallowed her bite and licked her lips. “Why would you ask me that?”

He relished in her unease, and even though this conversation would end in them having to step up their farce in the eye of the public, he couldn’t wait to crush her happiness in his palm. “Answer the question.”

Her chin lifted. “No, of course not.”

He huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know you’re lying, and it’s time to call it off.”

She set down her fork and sat back. “I told you I’m not seeing anyone.”

Leaning forward, Roman’s voice took on a hard edge. “I don’t believe you, and I suggest you break up with them immediately. I will not hesitate to hunt them down and charge them with treason. We made an agreement that you’d stop seeing them once my parents announced our bond.”

Roman picked up his silverware and tucked a bit of food into his mouth to keep from laughing at the proverbial steam coming out of Vivian’s ears. “Surely you weren’t stupid enough to fall in love,” he couldn’t help but add with a sardonic smile.

Vivian’s cheeks flushed maroon, and there looked to be tears gathering in the corners of her calculating eyes. He should feel lucky to have garnered such a response; after all, she deserved to suffer for how she spoke to Violet, but bitterness consumed him at the injustice of it all. Neither of them wanted this. The gods had made a mistake and Roman and Vivian had to pay penance.

After composing herself, she beamed at him from across the table. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She sighed woefully. “I’m excited for us to start our lives together, but I wanted to experience a relationship first. I never loved him.”

It didn’t escape Roman’s attention that she only mentioned one man, and he wondered if it’d been the same one all these years. Against his better judgement, he pitied her.

Viv smiled demurely. “We’ll be in a real relationship, then?”

He nearly snorted at the false hope she displayed. “As far as anyone is concerned, yes, but not in private. There’s no need for it until we are married.” Which will never happen.

Vivian leaned forward and lowered her voice suggestively. “I can’t wait to feel each other at the same time.” Roman would have recoiled if he’d thought she meant it. Did she honestly think he believed her act? He’d add delusional to her long list of faults.

He worked hard to shut down his disgust, lest she sense it through the bond. “Not until we’re married,” he said with too much force.

Vivian tilted her head with a look of surprise, her sharp mind hard at work. “You’ve never fucked anyone, have you?” She chuckled. “When I felt you, I assumed you had, but that’s not correct, is it?”

“What I’ve done is none of your business, just as what you’ve done until now is none of mine.”

She was correct in her assessment, though. The only pleasure his cock experienced had been by his own hand, but his lack of experience didn’t bother him. He only hoped it wouldn’t bother Violet, either.