Page 46 of The Crimson Princess (The Ravengale Chronicles #1)

We enter the arena and travel in an elevator to the lower level and I don’t miss how Idris crowds Bellar to the point Bellar can’t lay hands on me.

At one point Idris glances over his shoulder and offers me a small wink.

Proof that me with Bellar is not what our gales, even in the highest of ranks, want to see from me.

Somehow, I have to control the narrative my father, and Bellar, seek to create.

We step out of the elevator and a rush of awareness flows through me.

I can feel Toren’s presence hum through me like a warm breeze in the winter storm of a brewing unrest.

Once we’re inside the arena, there are clusters of standing tables covered in gale green cloths, food stations, and even a stage where the deep raspy voice of a female singer fills the air in a sultry song. Bellar’s hand settles on my lower back, and Toren’s voice is in my head.

If he doesn’t remove his hand I’m going to pull his balls through his ear sockets.

My answer to his warning is to halt and twist out of Bellar’s reach, facing the druid prince. “Look, Bellar, I know what my father and yours, too, want from us. I know what you want.”

“What do I want, princess?”

“Everything. And I get it. Of course, you do, but we are the future of our realms and right now, mine only sees druids as an enemy. If we step wrong, they will see me the same. We need them to follow us, not plot to overthrow us.”

He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “I admit the idea of us as a couple and the two realms together appeals to me. To think of the greatness we could create, the power couple we could be, excites me, but I am not my father. I do not wish to push this on you.”

The words are right. The feeling I get from him when he speaks them is not. “I do not believe you, Bellar. As humans say, talk is cheap. Show me. Mingle with me tonight, but do not treat me as a possession. Do not put your hands on me.”

He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean to overstep, princess. Your father said you were all in. I thought—”

“You didn’t think I was all in. We talked in the gardens.

You know I am not. You want to get me there, show me you are worthy of more than my affection.

You need to be worthy of my gales’ affection.

” I motion to an empty table. “That one is free. We should grab it while we can.” I start to turn and rotate back to him.

“I will fight to the death before I will take a knee. You’d be smart to remember that. ”

“I don’t want you to take a knee, princess. I want you to sit next to me.”

“Prove it.” I offer him my back and walk to the table.

Of course, he’s beside me in an instant, and already a server is standing before us with a tray in hand, offering cocktails.

I accept a glass of mera, our version of a sparkling wine, that really doesn’t taste that different from the human version, while Bellar declines.

When the server steps away, Toren is standing across from us, and I can barely breathe.

He’s dressed in his royal uniform of black with a red Bloodstone emblem on the shoulder of his jacket, the collar up, those radiant blue eyes fixed on me. “Princess Satima.” He inclines his chin. “You look as stunning as a Bloodstone sunrise that lingers to tease us with its beauty.”

My cheeks heat with the compliment no doubt meant to remind me of the sunrises we shared while Bellar is not pleased. “That is highly inappropriate. ”

Toren’s gaze shifts to the druid prince, ice in the depths of his stare. “I suppose to a druid prince barely out of diapers and unable to keep up it might seem so.”

I almost choke on a sip of my mera, and Toren isn’t done, “I assume you’re here to celebrate the Challenge,” he adds. “Now that the druids are evidently friendly with the gales, I wonder when the book will decide you, too, should volunteer your youth for slaughter.”

“Maybe the book will choose the vampires to compete. Then what?”

Toren’s lips quirk. “I’d take the spot of every one of my vampires before I’d let them compete. I am not afraid. I’m sure you’d do the same, Prince Bellar.”

Bellar’s energy is that of a trapped animal and I almost feel sorry for him. He is no match for the king of vampires. Toren motions to my glass. “Is there anything but mera to drink, princess?”

The suggestion in his tone is that it’s me he wants to drink and my nipples pucker with an image of us in the shower, his teeth sinking into my neck. I swallow the cotton in my throat and manage a formal reply. “I do apologize, King Toren. I do believe there is only mera on the menu tonight.”

“You sure about that?”

It’s in that moment that Bellar’s father appears beside the prince.

King Darus is a towering figure, with scorching red hair said to be linked to his magical connection to the red stones in the northern end of Druid City.

There are stories told about how those stones can gut an unwelcome visitor.

My mother always believed them to be fear mongering by Darus himself.

With the king and the prince side by side it’s easy to see that the king would easily outshine the prince’s male beauty if not for the horrendous scar etched and raised on his left cheek.

“What are you doing here, Toren?” Darus snaps.

“I see your attitude hasn’t improved any more than that fuckery on your face, Darus,” Toren replies, lifting my glass I’ve sat on the table and downing it.

“How long can you play in those stones of yours and not fix that? And I won’t bother to answer your question.

You know why I’m here. We all know why I’m here. ”

“You’re such a dick, Toren,” Darus grinds out, as if he isn’t about to try and kill Toren.

“I might be a dick,” Toren drawls, “but I don’t have that fuckery on my face.”

“That can be fixed,” he assures him.

Toren leans an elbow on the table, a smile tugging the corners of his lips, all nonchalant and unaffected. “You can try.”

At this point, I fear they will come to blows here and now.

I hold up my hands. “Tonight is about honoring our contestants in the Challenge and nothing else. If you were invited, you’re to honor them.

That means mingle with them and their families, not fight amongst yourselves.

” I wave my hands in frustration. “I’m going to the ladies’ room and when I get back, I hope all of you are somewhere else behaving like the royalty you are. ”

I don’t give any of them time to say a word to me. I step around the table and walk in the direction of the ladies’ room. Once I’m in the hallway outside the arena, I cut right and I walk past the common area bathroom, and head to a more private location.

I need a moment. A long moment at that.

Once I’m inside the pitch-black bathroom that is closed to the public I lex the lights on and lean against the wall. Waiting. I know he’ll come, and sure enough, Toren appears in front of me.

“Miss me, princess?”

“What are you doing? What was that out there? And why haven’t you been answering me?” At this point I have a hold of his lapels. “I thought something happened to you.”

“The war has already begun. I’m just making sure he fights like the bitch he is, angry and irrational. He’s far too easy to rile to be called king of anything. As for not communicating with you, were you worried about me?” He sounds pleased.

I am not. “Damn it, Toren.” He kisses me, all hot with demand, and I have no idea why I need this kiss. Why I need him with every pore of my existence, but when he parts our mouths, I’m literally panting.

“Ruhn’s men attacked again. I had to go home, but I’m here now.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yes. And we captured some of the rebels. They talked. We have a list of the traitors among us and Gideon’s dealing with him. I’ll have to go back tonight though. I need to know this is under control.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He strokes my hair behind my ear, tenderness in his touch. “I want nothing more than you to come back with me, Satima, but you know there are eyes everywhere right now. It’s too dangerous. I’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.”

“You know Darus wants you dead now, right?”

“If I didn’t goad Darus, he’d think something was wrong. There are politics between kings that have existed for centuries. And to your point, I can only hope he tries to kill me. That won’t go his way.” He cups my face. “I got this. And I got you.”

“Until this is over and you go back to your realm and I’m here. Now I know how silent that will be.”

“It won’t be. We are not done. And keep that damn druid’s hands off you or I swear to you, Satima, he will not survive the Challenge.

” He kisses me hard and fast. “I’ll see you tomorrow.

” He’s gone then, and I want to pull him back to me.

And for reasons I don’t want to explain, my mind goes to my nightmare; to a fight to the death between King Toren and King Killian.