Page 26 of Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden #2)

26

(ALMOST) TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OLD

Roman,

You should get this letter a week or so before we’re home. I wanted to tell you our plan (if Griff or Ares haven’t already). King Amos and Queen Clover will be escorting Griff, Ares, and me back to Saltu. Amos insisted since he would travel to Saltu for your coronation anyway.

As I’m sure you know, because I know you like to spy, I sent the extra carriage and War ahead of us. I wanted War to be there with you while you prepare for the big event. He doesn’t know it yet, but I made him a tigon-friendly royal coat to match yours. I might (most likely will) need your help to coax him into wearing it.

He’s basically becoming king of the animals in the Tropical Kingdom, and he needs to dress the part. Really, I just want to see him in clothes after seeing a fennec fox in cute sweaters.

I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you more than I thought I would, and I promise to find you the moment I set foot in the capital.

See you soon.

Always Yours,

Violet

P.S. I love you.

* * *

Roman grinned down at Violet’s letter and traced his fingers over her signature. Always Yours. His smile widened.

“You look like an idiot,” Slayton remarked as he approached. “Did Violet send you a naked drawing of herself?”

Roman’s smile fell, and he scowled. “I will kill you where you stand.”

Slayton laughed loudly, and Roman’s scowl deepened. “The carriage and horses are ready to leave.”

Roman, Slayton, and six other guards would leave shortly for the Desert Kingdom border. If his mate thought he’d let her go one day on Tropical soil without seeing him, she didn’t know him very well.

“Don’t you think six guards is overkill?” Slayton eyed the other men readying their horses. “She’s traveling with the Brutal King. I doubt anyone is stupid enough to try to attack him.”

The Desert King had earned his nickname when he’d brutally slaughtered his father and most of his father’s closest confidants. Amos’ father was an evil man who treated women like second-class citizens. What surprised Roman was that Amos hadn’t killed his father sooner.

“It’s not uncommon for rebels to attack close to a royal’s coronation,” he explained. “I’ll not risk Violet’s safety.”

Roman’s parents approached his small convoy. “I wish you’d wait,” his father insisted. “She’ll be here soon. There’s no need for you to risk missing your own coronation.”

Violet making it to the coronation was the only thing that guaranteed Roman himself would attend. If something happened and she didn’t return in time, he’d be at the border, waiting to step across at midnight on his twenty-fifth birthday. “I’m not waiting an extra week.”

His mother swatted his father’s arm. “Stop. If the roles were reversed, would you allow me to be within reach and not see you right away?”

The king contemplated the question, and his wife’s eyes flashed with outrage. Before she could tear into him, he chuckled. “You know I wouldn’t, dear, but we’re mates.”

If he’d thought that would placate her, he’d been wrong. Before Roman could crack his father’s jaw, his mother reached up and grabbed her husband’s neck. He hissed as she dug her nails into his skin. “If you insinuate Violet isn’t Roman’s mate again, I will choke you until you pass out.”

Roman’s father smirked and leaned forward. “Don’t tempt me, Sarah. You know I like it—”

“ Hey ,” Roman snapped, wanting to scrub his brain of the past few minutes.

The queen released her husband’s neck with one last warning glare and turned to Roman. “Be safe and come home quickly. Having to reschedule your coronation would be a pain.”

* * *

Violet peered out the window of the carriage, watching the small border town pass by. Their group had been traveling for a few hours.

She popped her head through the window. “How much longer?” Violet called to Griff. He either didn’t hear her, or he ignored her. If they hit one more bump, her bladder would ensure there’d be an embarrassing mess to clean up.

“What’s wrong?” Clover, the Desert Queen, asked Violet quietly. She didn’t speak much, and when she did, you sometimes had to strain to hear her.

She and Clover had become quick friends, despite the other woman not caring a lick about fashion and Violet not liking to read. Clover possessed a pleasant, albeit shy, temperament with everyone except her husband.

Violet didn’t know the full story, but for some reason, Amos sent Clover to the Human Kingdom after he’d found her at thirteen. He’d begged her to come back when they were sixteen, but unbeknownst to him, she’d heard from her brother that he’d claimed another girl to be his mate. Even though romance hadn’t factored into Amos’ engagement, it had destroyed Clover, and she’d tried to kill him when she saw him again.

“A lover’s quarrel,” he’d told Violet.

Regardless, the two complimented each other perfectly. They were a golden god and goddess come to life, rebuilding their kingdom King Amos’ father destroyed. Amos stood as tall as Roman with a leaner build, sun-tanned, whey-colored skin, and golden-blond hair that curled at his ears. Clover had wild, curly blonde hair and skin a shade lighter than the king’s. They were beautiful together.

“I need to relieve myself,” Violet grumbled. “I don’t think I can wait.”

Clover poked her head out the carriage window for a moment. “We’re close to the border. I can see the wall in the distance.”

If Violet knew Roman, he’d be at the border waiting for her, unable to wait until she made it to the capital. “If Roman is at the border, he’ll yank me into his arms before I can say anything.” At least, she hoped he would. “I’d rather not wet myself in front of everyone.”

Clover afforded Violet a rare smile and stuck her head back out the window. “Amos, tell everyone to stop.”

The Desert King, never far from his mate’s side, called for a halt, and the moment the carriage stopped, Violet hurried outside.

“Why are we stopping?” Griff griped. He was a terrible traveling companion. “The wall isn’t much farther.”

“I need to relieve myself,” Violet answered. Her bladder hurt too much to care if Amos and Ares heard her.

Thank the gods they were close enough to the Tropical border that tree groupings appeared on the Desert Kingdom’s side. The vegetation wasn’t as dense as in her kingdom, but enough to give her privacy.

Ares jumped from his mount. “I’ll go with you.”

“Roman will kill you if he finds out you were within ten feet of her exposed ass,” Griff deadpanned.

Ares sized up Violet. “He’ll mutilate me if he finds out I let her wander into the woods alone.”

“I can go with her,” Clover offered, reaching into the carriage for her sword. The queen’s skill outmatched both Ares and Griff, and they both knew it.

Ares nodded, but Amos jumped from his horse. “The hell you will.”

“Is that so?” Clover asked, her deceptively soft voice promising a painful death.

He halted and narrowed his eyes. They had a silent battle of wills before he sighed. “I’m scouting the area first.”

Clover’s lips quirked to the side. “Fine.”

In the distance, Violet saw the vague outline of the border wall separating the Tropical and Desert Kingdoms through the thickening trees. The thing was enormous, and she didn’t know if they were fifteen minutes or an hour away.

A few minutes later, Amos appeared through the trees and signaled for the women to go. They hiked far enough in so as not to be seen, then Clover stood guard with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

After Violet finished and Clover denied needing to go, they picked their way back toward the road.

“Took you long enough,” Griff complained. “Golden God over there was three seconds from barging through the trees like an angry bull.”

The king did not look amused.

An all too familiar voice screamed from behind them, “RUN!” They whipped around and Violet’s eyes widened at the woman sprinting toward them from the trees. For a second, she thought it was Vivian. Surely not. Why would Viv be in the Desert Kingdom?

Her doubts were decimated when her sister grew closer and screamed, “REBELS!”

Without hesitation, their group moved. Clover grabbed Violet’s hand, dragging her to the far side of the carriage horses and out of sight of the rebels. Ares mounted his horse and steered toward Violet, but he whipped around when battle cries rose in the air. She couldn’t tell how many there were, but the rebels outnumbered their small party of five.

A tidal wave of fear crashed through Violet, and her hands fumbled with the horse’s harness. “Shouldn’t we be in the carriage?” she asked Clover, proud of herself for speaking coherently.

“We’ll be faster on horses,” Clover explained, transforming into a war general.

Violet thanked the gods her father had taught her and Vivian how to ride. Vivian . She scanned the mayhem around them, spotting her sister fighting alongside Ares, Griff, and Amos.

A man in tattered armor charged toward the carriage and raised his sword. Violet screamed. “Clover, watch out!”

Clover flipped around in time to block the man’s attack. Amos appeared at her side and shoved her out of the way, but the queen drove her sword into the rebel’s side. “Go help the others,” she shouted at her husband above the grunts, cries, and clangs of the battle raging around them.

The two sides collided, and to Violet’s horror, arrows flew toward them. She knew she’d only hinder the fight and looked around for a place to hide. In the carriage she’d be a sitting duck, but if one of the rebels saw her sneak into the woods, she’d have no chance of outrunning them.

As it was, the horse hid her from sight, but she could never forgive herself for using a living creature as a shield if something happened to it.

“Move to the border!” Griff instructed the others, and Clover grabbed Violet’s hand, dragging her toward the men’s horses, leaving the carriage horses behind. They’d not been able to unhook their harnesses, and Violet’s heart wrenched.

She could see the border guards sprinting toward them, tipping the scale in their favor, and she almost cried out in relief. Griff appeared at her side, swung her onto his horse, and galloped toward the wall.

They weren’t as far from the border as she’d thought, and they gained ground quickly. We might make it. She glanced over her shoulder, thankful the others followed suit while dodging the arrows flying their way.

But they weren’t fast enough; an arrow struck the side of Griff’s horse, and it stumbled to the ground, sending Violet and Griff rolling across the rough road. Sharp stones cut into Violet’s face and hands, but her adrenaline numbed the sensation. The horse took off running with an arrow protruding from its back flank.

“Stay down ,” Griff grunted as he climbed to his feet, fighting off a rebel who’d caught up to them. Amos, Griff, Ares, Vivian, Clover, and the border guards surrounded them, fighting off the rebels on all sides. I’m worthless here , she thought with despair.

A beast’s resounding roar filled the air, followed by a savage voice. “VIOLET!”

Violet looked through those around her toward the wall. War ran full speed in her direction as Roman pounded against an invisible barrier, yelling her name.

Violet screamed and ducked just in time as an arrow flew past her. War pounced on one of the men nearing Violet, and Ares swung his sword to behead another rebel attacking him from the side.

Violet watched the man’s head fly through the air and collide with the ground. His unseeing eyes stared at her as it rolled across the grass.

I’m going to pass out.

The magic kept Roman firmly on the other side, and Violet thought, If I can make it to the border, he’ll keep me safe. Griff and Ares stood protectively in front of Violet, charging and killing any rebel who got too close. Here, amid the fight, she hindered the others. A helpless person they felt obligated to protect.

Griff broke from the line and looked at two of the border guards, hoisting Violet to her feet. “Get Violet to the border . ”

One grabbed her arm and told her to run, but War barreled into Violet’s side. She collided with the rough ground again, and her vision blacked as more gravel sliced her skin. She fought for breath and tried to shake the haze from her vision.

She watched in horror as War slammed to the ground beside her with an arrow speared between his ribs. Her scream rose above the raging battle. “War!”

Violet crawled toward the tigon, and pain shot up her arms with every slap of her shredded palms against the gravel. His quills retracted, and his chest moved in quick, shallow breaths.

Violet’s hands moved over his bloody fur to assess the wound, but she didn’t know what to do. Don’t you push arrows through instead of pulling them out? Or is it the other way around? The arrow pointed toward his heart. She couldn’t risk piercing it. If the arrow hasn’t done so already.

The guards who were taking her to Roman searched the ground, their gazes passing right over her. One cursed. “Where is she?” They both surveyed their surroundings. Who are they looking for?

Vivian tripped over Violet and tumbled to the ground beside War’s body.

One guard hauled Vivian up, confusion on his face. “Weren’t you in a dress?”

Violet looked to Roman, close enough to see his face. I can make it.

Vivian yanked out of the guard’s hold and looked around frantically, calling Violet’s name. Roman spotted his ex-mate, sending him from frantic to rabid as he raged harder against the barrier.

“EVERYONE TO THE QUEEN! PROTECT YOUR QUEEN!” he roared, his words cracking through the air. Dread crawled across Violet’s skin as all but Ares and Griff sprinted toward Vivian.

“ No ,” Violet whispered and turned terror-filled eyes to Roman. He’d said he loved her, yet he’d left her unprotected in favor of Vivian.

Her gaze collided with his, his eyes alight with fear and rage. “ PROTECT YOUR QUEEN!” he screamed again, his desperation palpable.

A sob ripped from Violet’s throat, and she hung her head over War’s body in resignation. She couldn’t drag the beast to safety, and she had no combat skills to protect them. Leaving War while he still breathed wasn’t an option. He’d never left her; he showed up and saved her time and again. She’d not leave him here.

Roman continued to scream as Griff barked out orders, but Violet no longer heard them. Her despair was a living thing pressing down on her.

Shadows fell over her, blocking out the midday sun, and she looked up, astonished to see a tight ring of guards surrounding her and War.

She glanced around, searching for her sister. The guards think I’m Vivian.

Ares broke from the circle and felt around blindly. “Where are you?”

Violet cried harder. “Vivian is out there,” she said ruefully and leaned over War again. Ares’ hands bumped against her back.

“Thank the gods,” he breathed, pulling her up. “I need you to wrap your arms around my neck.”

Bewildered, she looked at him. “I’m Violet.” Why did I say that? Let him take you to safety.

“I know who you are, Vi. Roman glamoured you, and I can’t see you. Wrap your arms around my neck and tuck your head against my shoulder so I can take you to him before he bloodies his hands trying to claw through the barrier.”

Her stomach bottomed out. She should have known Roman wouldn’t betray her, that the words he’d told her repeatedly were true. Guilt like she’d never known weighed her down.

Ares lifted her into his arms. “I’ve got her!” he yelled at those around them. “Move!” The warriors and guards surrounding them created an opening, and he took off.

Violet looked back to War and panicked. “We can’t leave War.”

“He’ll be fine,” Ares panted as he ran.

“No,” she pleaded and struggled against his hold. “We can’t leave him!”

Her breathing grew erratic, and her hands began to tingle as her panic climbed. Ares vanished, yet he still held her. Roman’s glamour. She shut her eyes tight, the sensation of floating on air turning her insides. Ares shot across the border into Tropical territory. Seconds later, Roman yanked her out of his arms and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Grief and shock set in as she watched the fighting continue over Roman’s shoulder.

War didn’t move.

* * *

Roman ran until he reached the closest house on the outskirts of the border village. An older man stood outside brushing a horse, and he startled when he saw Roman approach.

“I’m Roman Covington, crown prince, and I need a bed immediately,” Roman insisted roughly.

The man’s eyes widened, and he tossed his brush onto a nearby haystack. “Yes, Your Grace. Is she hurt?”

Roman took stock of Violet’s injuries. “I don’t know.” Every emotion clawed at his insides as he prayed to the very gods he hated.

“I’ll send for a healer.”

Roman hurried through the man’s front door, and a young woman on the couch jumped with a squeak. The knitting supplies in her lap scattered on the ground with a loud clank.

The man motioned to Violet. “Fayline, get something to clean her up, please.”

“Yes, Papa.” She hurried into the kitchen while the man led Roman into a bedroom and motioned to a small bed barely big enough for two people. The modest room had wooden floors with no rugs, two side tables, and a small fireplace opposite the bed.

Violet shook uncontrollably in Roman’s arms, and he knew if he didn’t calm her down, she’d go into shock. “Is there anything under the bed?”

The man hesitated and bent down to look under the wooden frame. “There are a few boxes, Your Grace. Old clothes, mostly.”

“Pull them out.”

Roman kissed the top of Violet’s head. “You’re safe, princess. I’ve got you.” Her soft cries gutted him. He’d never felt more helpless than he had watching her from the other side of the barrier. Especially when Vivian had appeared. Had she hurt Violet, there wasn’t a place in Eden she could hide from him.

Roman thanked the gods for Griff, who’d instructed his team to surround War. The guards couldn’t see Violet through Roman’s glamour, and when they’d started toward Vivian, Roman saw Violet’s devastation, thinking he’d called her vile sister his queen. The image would haunt him forever.

Once the man had pulled everything out from under the bed, Roman kneeled on the floor and gently laid Violet down. “Can you crawl under on your own?”

She looked from him to the bed, nodded, and tucked her body underneath.

“Here, Your Grace,” Fayline said, handing him a wet cloth.

He murmured his thanks and tried to crawl under the bed, but the frame was too low for his broad chest. “ Fuck .” Stretching out his arm, he covered Violet’s hand with his. Her cries stopped, replaced by sniffles and quiet whimpers. “Can you come closer so I can clean your face?” Dirt and gravel clung to the blood and scrapes marring her skin.

She scooted closer, and he tried to release her, but she shook her head and squeezed his hand tighter. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Every piece of him broke. He’d done this to her. He’d made her think he would leave her like this. “I’m not leaving. I need to clean your face.”

Her eyes bounced between his and she released him. Roman gingerly wiped away the few pieces of gravel still clinging to her face, flinching with every wince and hiss she made. Once he’d cleaned the cuts to the best of his abilities, he dropped the towel behind him and reached for her hand again.

“Go bring more towels,” the old man instructed his daughter. Roman startled, having forgotten they were there.

Violet’s shaking hand held his like a lifeline. “They shot War,” she said on a broken whisper.

Roman wedged his head under the bed, his large body sticking out at an awkward angle, and brought her hand to his lips. “War is fine. He’s on his way.”

Violet’s teary voice broke his heart. “How?”

Roman smiled tenderly. “ Familiars have fast healing to prevent them from dying before their bonded. Decapitating them or cutting out their vital organs is the only way to kill them.”

She graced him with a feeble smile, and Roman sensed her overwhelming relief.

No, he felt it.

His breath stalled, and he concentrated on the emotions coursing through him. The relief evaporated like a lingering dream, and disappointment hit him hard when he only sensed his own.

He didn’t know how long they laid there, nor did he care. He only cared about her safety, both mind and body. Everything else could wait.

Roman pulled his head out from under the bed and looked at the man and his daughter. “My tigon will be here any moment. Please open the front door or he’ll break it down.”

The man left quickly, but Fayline stayed rooted to the spot. Her cool, medium brown cheeks paled, and her brown eyes almost popped out of her head.

“He’s friendly,” Roman assured her, but when War prowled through the bedroom door, she yelped and backed into the wall. War ignored her, rounded the bed, and laid on the other side, sticking his paw underneath the frame.

More footsteps entered the room, and Roman glanced over his shoulder at Ares. “Is she alright?” his friend asked.

“She will be. Has the threat been neutralized?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen that many in a random ambush before.” His calculating gaze looked out the window. “Vivian escaped.”

Roman glanced under the bed at Violet. She’d turned her head to face War, and Roman lowered his voice. “Why the fuck was Vivian with them?”

Ares grabbed one of the spare cloths and wiped his hands. “I don’t know, but she fought against them with us.”