Page 3 of Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden #2)

3

THIRTEEN YEARS OLD

“You look sick,” Ares, Roman’s best friend, remarked as they walked through the palace toward the prince’s rooms.

He wasn’t wrong; Roman did feel like puking. Tomorrow, at midnight on his thirteenth birthday, the gods would whisper the name of his fated mate into his mind for only him to hear. It happened to all royal fae on their thirteenth birthday, and the thought of a random voice in his mind freaked him out.

Very few people knew when Roman’s birthday was in order to keep parents of children born on the same day as him from bombarding the capital, and he’d made a point to not know the birthdays of any girls his age. What if he met someone who shared his birthday and liked them, only for the gods to mate him with someone else?

His mother said he was too young to worry about things like that, but what did she expect? He hadn’t grown up around other children. Other than his parents and a few select warriors, guards, and palace staff, he rarely interacted with anyone else. He’d endured a ruthless training regime from the time he could walk, and when he wasn’t training, they forced him to study.

He didn’t know how to act his age.

And he hated it.

Thanks to his tutors and parents, he knew the importance of mates, and that royal fae had to marry their mate or it could mean the downfall of their kingdom. A mate bond contained the strongest magic in existence and kept the royal bloodlines strong, allowing them to protect their kingdoms in ways non-royal fae could not.

Roman thought, like many other things in their history, it was ridiculous. Ruling based on bloodlines had the potential to end horribly. What if the heir was a terrible person?

Ares jostled Roman’s shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. “You’d be sick too if you had to meet your future wife at thirteen,” Roman told him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small shape-shifting puzzle. They were small puzzles that were a jumbled mess with all different colored pieces, and when twisted correctly, they made a certain shape.

His father once took him to a shape-shifting puzzle competition, and he’d been enamored ever since. He’d hoped his father would let him compete someday.

He twisted the pieces into place, easily seeing the connections in his mind.

Ares tapped the top of the puzzle, stopping Roman’s progress. “Viv’s birthday is tomorrow too,” he informed the prince with a sly smile.

Roman said nothing as they rounded the corner toward his rooms. He’d heard her mention it earlier that day to a group of junior warriors. This past week made him grateful his parents had insisted on keeping his birthday a secret all his life. A week ago, invitations to his thirteenth birthday ball went out. Since he’d know who his mate was tomorrow, there was no longer a reason to keep it a secret.

Barely two days after the invitations went out, three different girls he’d never met approached him, claiming their birthday was tomorrow too. The rest of the week had held more of the same.

Vivian was less conspicuous about it. Instead of telling him outright, she’d announced it to others loud enough for Roman to hear.

Vivian Maekin. She was okay, he guessed, but she annoyed him with her constant bragging and need for attention. All the junior warriors liked her, but something about her didn’t sit right with him.

That means Violet’s birthday is tomorrow too. The thought made his lips curl into a small smile. Being mated to her would be fun .

He and Violet had formed a friendship last year, but during the long break between school years, they rarely saw each other. It didn’t stop him from thinking about her, though.

This year they sat on opposite sides of the room, and their friendship had dwindled to greetings in the hallways and the occasional quick conversation.

“You’re smiling,” Ares accused smugly.

Roman’s smile dropped. “This past week proved a lot of girls share my birthday,” he reminded him. “Not just Vivian.” Or Violet.

“You two like a lot of the same stuff,” his friend pointed out. “Sparring, boring strategy gam—oof!”

Roman cut him off with an elbow to the gut and reached out to keep him from falling down the stairs. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He steadied his friend and went back to his puzzle.

Ares rubbed his stomach and wisely changed the subject. “I’m going to have a bruise.”

He held up the now star-shaped puzzle with a face splitting grin and tossed it to his best friend. “Good.”

Later that night, Roman stared at his reflection in the mirror and adjusted his green royal coat. Every kingdom had a royal color, and he’d always liked the vibrant green of the Tropical Kingdom.

Facing away from the mirror, he scanned the room. Hanging clothes, two mirrors, and multiple cabinets housing his various shoes and accessories lined two of the walls. He plopped down on one of the plush benches in the middle of the room and stared glumly at the other two empty walls where his mate’s things would one day go.

He grabbed the collar of his coat and tugged. When he inherited the throne, his first order of business would be a new style of coat because these itched like crazy.

Roman added “wearing uncomfortable clothing” to the growing list of reasons he hated formal events.

No amount of begging would get him out of this one, though. Tropical Kingdom tradition dictated that royals host a ball on the heir’s milestone years: finding their mate at thirteen, gaining their familiar at fifteen, marrying their mate at twenty-two, and ascending the throne at twenty-five. To his detriment, his mother loved parties and said she would start throwing him one every year.

His mother, Sarah, walked into his dressing room in a long green dress to match his and his father’s coats. “Are you ready, honey?” Her blonde hair, the same color as Roman’s, resembled a weird ball on the side of her head, and it poked him in the face when she hugged him.

Roman pulled out of her grasp and tried not to look sullen. “I’m ready.”

After being announced and led into the ballroom by the king and queen’s royal guard, Roman’s mother kissed the top of his head. “Go tell your friends hello and meet us on the dais.”

If Roman tried to find Ares in the crowd, dozens of people he barely knew would stop him for a chat. Hiding seemed like a better option. Nodding to his mother, he turned on his heel and strode toward the nondescript side door leading to the smaller balcony.

Guests seldom used the small balcony because it had no view other than the tropical trees beyond the palace walls. The main balcony overlooked the gardens and was a party favorite.

He closed the door behind him, crossed to the railing, and stared out into the colorful trees. Roman had never traveled to the Human Kingdom because magic bound him to the Tropical Kingdom until he was twenty-five, but he’d seen pictures. Their trees and plants were dull compared to the rainbow foliage in the fae lands.

An amused voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you hiding too?”

I know that voice. Roman pushed back from the railing and turned toward the shadows on the far end of the balcony. He stepped closer and made out the faint outline of a person perched on the railing. “Violet?”

Fabric rustled and shoes slapped softly against the ground as the shadowy figure jumped down. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Roman’s retort died on his tongue when Violet stepped into the light. Her reddish-dark hair, normally twisted back, hung in loose waves around her face with a small crown of light purple flowers resting on top. Had she put something on her eyelashes, or were they always that dark? He didn’t know, but they looked nice against her blue eyes.

Her lips looked more pink than usual, and instead of the loose dresses she wore to school, the dark purple gown she wore hugged her upper body tightly. She reminded him of a faerietale princess.

Roman swallowed hard and pulled at his collar, unable to form words. Gods, she’s pretty.

Violet adjusted the flowers in her hair. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

No excuse came to him, leaving only the truth at his disposal. “You look pretty.” His shoulders eased, and he tried not to grin when her cheeks flamed in response. She blushed a lot. “Why are you hiding?”

The pink receded and she lifted a brow defiantly. “I asked you first.” Her shoes whispered against the ground as she stepped closer. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

He ran a hand through his hair and winced. His mother would kill him for messing it up. “I hate big celebrations.”

Violet’s head tilted to the side. “Really? You seem like someone who would enjoy the attention.”

He frowned at her. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re always surrounded by a group of people.” She hung her hands on her hips, daring him to argue.

Stepping closer, he leaned forward and stage whispered, “Are you stalking me?”

Violet dropped her arms and fluffed her skirt without meeting his gaze. “It’s hard to miss large groups of people.”

Is she nervous?

Roman wanted to smile like an idiot. “I don’t think my friends count.” He used the word friends loosely. Most people around him were only there because of his title. Leaning back against the railing, he sighed dramatically. “I have to stand on the dais with my parents and shake hands all night. It’s boring.”

Violet lifted herself onto the railing beside Roman. He started to steady her but yanked his hand back at her amused expression. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I thought you might fall.” His coat felt tighter around his neck, and he pulled at the stiff fabric. “Why are you hiding?”

The insects of the forest chirped through the quiet. She blew out a loud breath. “I don’t like parties either.”

She seemed embarrassed, but he didn’t know why. “Is Griff not here?”

Griff was the only person he’d seen her with regularly. Not that he watched her all the time or anything.

“He’s with the other junior warriors, and I didn’t want to tag along and listen to them talk about stabbing things.” Roman laughed, and she smirked in response. “I would’ve stayed home if my mother had let me.”

“Me too,” he mumbled under his breath. “What about Vivian?” As one of the top junior warriors in their class, Vivian had a ton of friends. Surely Violet knew them too.

Violet shifted uncomfortably on the railing, and Roman knew he’d assumed incorrectly. “We see each other enough at home.”

He almost asked why that mattered—they were sisters, after all—but the look on her face told him to drop it. “We can hide out here together,” he offered instead and climbed up beside her.

The balcony door opened, and Roman’s mother stepped outside. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She glanced at Violet and smiled warmly. “Hello, Violet. You’ll have to excuse Roman.” She looked back at him, her face hardening. “To the dais, now .” With a final warning glare, she disappeared inside.

Roman groaned and jumped down, reluctant to go. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” Violet slid off the railing, and Roman fought the urge to pick her up and set her down safely. She dug into a secret pocket in her dress, and he homed in on the movement, wondering how many pockets that thing had. She produced an envelope and held it out. “Happy Birthday.”

Roman stared at the envelope, shocked anyone other than his parents had gotten him something.

Violet withdrew her arm. “Never mind. It’s stupid. Happy birthday, Roman.” She tried to hurry past him, but he reached out and snagged the gift from her grasp.

“Hey!” She swiped at the paper, but he held it out of her reach.

“You said this is mine.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Every inch of her exposed skin glowed bright red. He liked it. A lot. “Give it back.”

Roman’s face split into a wide grin. He felt genuinely happy for the first time all week. “No. It’s my present, and I want it.”

Violet stomped her foot with a small harrumph . “You don’t have to pretend to want it. It’s just a stupid card.”

The lumpy envelope rattled when he shook it. “It sounds like more than a card. No one gives me gifts, and I want it.”

After an intense stare off, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Goodbye.”

Roman stared after her as she spun around and marched toward the ballroom door. “Thank you, princess , ” he called after her, earning himself a glare before she slipped inside.

Later that night, Roman stared at the bracelet of green pebbles in his hand, then read the note again.

Roman,

You may not remember, but last year you said you liked my bracelets and maybe you’d want one someday. I know you think you were kidding, but I saw the way your eyes watered because you didn’t have one. (You didn’t have to cry, I would have made you one if you’d asked nicely).

I decided to forgo shells since they break easily with your nasty habit of running into things. I don’t know your favorite color and decided on green stones to match your royal coat.

It’s a terrible color, really. A shame they make you wear something the color of human grass. It would be better if it were a prettier color, like purple. Maybe even a nice shade of violet . I bet you can change it when you’re king. (hint hint)

Anyway, happy birthday, Roman.

Violet

P.S. Don’t be nervous about tonight. I’m sure whoever your mate is will look very nice in human-grass-green too.

Roman’s laugh bounced around his bedroom, and he held up the green stone bracelet to inspect it closer. Violet Maekin.

“What are you smiling at, honey?” his mother asked as she and his father walked into the room.

Roman stashed the letter and bracelet in his side table and stood. “Nothing.” Upon his parents’ arrival, Roman’s nerves returned full force.

One look at his face, and his mother wrapped him in a tight hug. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. When I heard your father’s name, it was the best night of my life.”

She smiled at Roman’s father, Felix, and patted his arm. “From the time I met your mother at eight years old, I knew she would be mine, and I told her so.”

“It’s true.” His mother sighed dreamily. “The day before our thirteenth birthday, he said the gods would say his name.” She pecked her husband on the cheek. “He was right.”

Roman’s mind flashed to Ares’ comment about Vivian. “What if I don’t like my mate?”

His father patted him on the back. “You’ll make it work. You have to.”

“I know.” Roman sighed and raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I have to keep the bloodline strong.” He was sick of having the sentiment shoved down his throat.

If a kingdom suffered an attack, a royal could glamour their citizens to be invisible to the attacking forces. Other than that, why did they need to be stronger? There hadn’t been an attack of that magnitude since before the gods placed the barrier.

Supposedly , having children with a fated mate was the only way to keep the bloodline strong, but no royal had ever married anyone other than their fated mate to test the theory.

“What if my mate lives in another kingdom?”

His mother patted his arm. “Don’t worry, honey. Your father or I would travel to each kingdom to check the birth records.”

Without me , Roman thought bitterly. Royal fae only had one child and the heir’s magic didn’t manifest fully until they turned twenty-five. Fae drew their magic from the fae lands, and if a royal heir left before their magic fully developed, it could weaken them. To prevent this, the gods used magic to bind royal fae to their kingdoms until their twenty-fifth birthdays.

A stupid rule, in Roman’s opinion. Why couldn’t the royal heirs go to other fae kingdoms? He understood why they couldn’t go into the Human Kingdom. No magic filled their lands, but other fae kingdoms had just as much magic as the next.

Stupid.

His mother clapped excitedly, breaking him from his disgruntled thoughts, and ushered everyone into Roman’s sitting room to have a seat. “It’s almost time.”

Roman sat in one of the large wing-backed chairs and feigned nonchalance, though his knuckles turned white from their harrowing grip on the chair’s arms. The golden clock’s second hand ticked at a snail’s pace. His palms slicked with nerves.

When the clock struck midnight, he closed his eyes, and a voice not of this world resounded through his mind.

Vivian.

Acid churned in his stomach and crawled up his throat. Vivian? Disappointment tunneled through him, followed by dread.

Maybe the voice didn’t mean Vivian Maekin. He once asked his mother why the gods didn’t give the mate’s surname. She said it was because in the early days, surnames didn’t exist.

But they’re gods , he’d thought at the time. Can’t they update their ways? At this point, he thought the gods were dead or liked to screw with the people of Eden with one ridiculous rule after the other.

However, the knowledge that it might not be Vivian Maekin didn’t make him feel any better.

Roman opened his eyes and looked at his parents. “Her name is Vivian.”

His mother’s smile faltered, but she recovered with ease. “The Maekin twins share the same birthday as you.” She reached forward and clasped his hand. “We’ll go to her tomorrow to confirm.” She turned her brilliant smile to his father. “Isn’t this wonderful? She comes from a family we’ve known for years.” His mother gave him a watery smile. “I’m happy for you, honey. You two have a lot in common, and I know you’ll be happy together.”

Why does everyone keep saying that?

He looked away, hoping she wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. “We do.”

But would that be enough?

* * *

Violet paced the length of her room, too nervous to eat lunch with the rest of her family. What had she been thinking giving Roman that stupid bracelet? She’d meant it to be funny, but in hindsight, it was dumb.

Anxiety crept over her skin thanks to something she dared not utter aloud. She wanted to be Roman’s mate. She’d harbored a crush on the prince since last year, and something inside of her knew they were meant to be together. Would he be upset if the gods bonded him to her?

Violet flopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Last night, she’d prayed to the gods to make them mates. Pathetic .

Mates could feel each other’s emotions, and that morning, Vivian had claimed she’d felt someone else’s emotions. Violet’s stomach soured. She and Roman belonged together, she could feel it, but a small seed of doubt bloomed in her gut. Even if Viv had lied about feeling something in her chest, Violet didn’t feel anything.

After her declaration, Vivian had looked at Violet with triumph, as if she’d won a game Violet didn’t know they were playing. Vivian treated everything between them as a competition, and Violet hated it. It had never been that way until the day she’d accidentally hurt Violet, trying to teach her to sword fight. If Violet could go back, she’d have never agreed to train with Vivian that day. Or ever.

Since then, there’d been a rift between them, one that hurt deeply. She didn’t understand why her sister blamed her for their father’s reaction; Violet hadn’t asked their father to yell at Viv. But since that day, Vivian had tried her hardest to make her look bad. Not just in front of their parents; in front of everyone.

A commanding knock on their front door startled Violet from the memory, and she sprang off the bed. Everything in her buzzed with excitement. Oh my gods.

She tried to act unaffected as she walked into the family room and watched her father cross to the door. Her father, Edgar, was tall and broad like most fae, with dark golden-tan skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes that creased at the corners from laughing. He had a proud, prominent nose and heavy brows. He was an unshakeable force. Usually .

Today, Violet noted the way he wiped his palms on his pants and took a deep breath before reaching for the door handle. No one in their household voiced it, but they’d all been anxious for today, as had every family with a child who shared a birthday with the prince.

Her father opened the door to reveal King Felix and Queen Sarah on the other side. Violet sucked in a sharp breath, and Vivian cut her eyes in her direction with a cruel smirk.

“Hello, Edgar,” King Felix greeted politely. Felix was bigger than Violet’s father, with light brown hair, medium-beige skin, and Roman’s light brown eyes. He smiled politely at Violet’s mother. “Meri, it’s good to see you.”

Her mother dipped into a slight curtsey. “Likewise, Your Grace. And you, Your Grace,” she said to Queen Sarah, who had discreetly moved between Meri and her husband.

The queen possessed flawless skin the color of Roman’s, dark sandy-blonde hair free of grey, and hazel eyes that always seemed to sparkle. Everyone’s gazes moved to the door when Roman walked in, his hair styled neatly for once. His gaze collided with Violet’s, and when his lips tipped into a small grin, she almost fainted. I knew it.

But when he turned and moved farther into the room toward Vivian, confusion, realization, and horror took turns assaulting her. Violet watched in slow motion as he bowed to her twin and said something, to which Vivian nodded. Violet would never know what he’d said because embarrassment and heartbreak blocked out her surroundings.

She approached the others with forced happiness. “This is exciting.”

Vivian’s condescending smile made Violet want to hit her, an urge she’d never had before. “I get to be queen, Vi. Can you believe it?”

The thought of being queen hadn’t crossed Violet’s mind. She’d been too focused on getting to spend forever with Roman. She begrudgingly admitted that Vivian would make a great warrior queen—someone who could fight alongside Roman to defend their kingdom. Violet could never have lived up to that role.

“It suits you,” Violet forced out and faced Roman. “You two will chop people down together like the heroes in adventure books.” She made a slashing motion in the air, and Roman twisted his lips to unsuccessfully suppress his laughter.

The adults joined in, and Vivian’s eyes cut to Violet, her mouth curved down in a vicious frown. Before anyone else noticed, Vivian’s smile slipped back into place.

“What happens now?” Vivian asked.

Their father gestured for everyone to have a seat, and their mother offered to make tea.

“It’s tradition in the Tropical Kingdom to keep the identity of the heir’s mate hidden from the public until after they graduate school,” King Felix began. “Once we reveal Vivian as the future queen, all eyes will be on her, and we don’t want that for any of the children.” He patted Roman on the back. “It’s bad enough my boy has to go through it.”

The king spoke the truth. It was well known that royal mates were not announced until after they finished school. Their classmates were used to Roman by now, as were most of the warriors and palace staff, but that didn’t stop them from falling over themselves to gain his attention. The townspeople gawked on the rare occasions they saw a royal in town.

Queen Sarah leaned forward conspiratorially. “Felix and I understand more than anyone how it can sometimes be hard to hide your affection for one another.” King Felix’s eyes shone with so much adoration that Violet had to focus on something else. The thought of Roman showing her sister affection made her heart twist.

“But we ask that you are discreet,” the queen continued. “It’s as much for Vivian’s safety as it is for her privacy.”

“Violet,” her father reprimanded. “Are you paying attention?”

Dear gods, I know you didn’t answer my prayer last night, but could you please open the ground to swallow me whole? She waited and sighed when the floor beneath her stayed intact. “Yes, sir. We can’t tell anyone that Viv is Roman’s mate.” She lifted her hand in a small salute, and Roman coughed to cover a laugh.

Her father muttered something under his breath, and Queen Sarah looked as amused as her son. Violet ignored Vivian’s glare, knowing her sister hated any positive attention Violet received.

The adults droned on while Violet lived through the biggest disappointment of her life. Eventually, the Covingtons left, leaving her with a sister who wouldn’t stop yapping about being the future queen, digging the knife a little deeper each time.