Page 48 of Tricky Princess

“I know,” Billy said into her neck, squeezing her enough to hurt.

A giant of a man scooted past them and hefted Sam into his arms. Ellea was about to protest, but when she met his stare and took in his height, she couldn’t speak.

“I know,” Billy said again. “You’re drooling, Ellea.”

Something was clicking—or melting—in her mind as she took in the ridiculous amount of muscle, the dark curls, and wild eyes that looked back at her.

“Garm?” He nodded, and before he could answer, Ellea elbowed Billy. “Lucky bitch.”

“Mythis,” Ros growled. “Where is my father?”

“He’s in his study; it’s almost time for tea,” Ellea answered. “But that doesn’t matter, we need a healer.”

She pushed Garm toward her quarters as Ros turned toward her with a questioning look.

Yeah, I’m besties with your dad.

“Reaver,” Ellea called as she led them all down the hall, leaving the bodies of guards behind. The demon stepped out of a wall and almost stepped right back in when he saw the group surrounding her. “Don’t you dare. We need a healer, send them to my—er—our room.”

The happiness radiating from Ros seemed to slip away, and a shadowed look covered his face.

Shit.

Ellea threw the large black doors open, and Azzy turned from where he was pacing.

“Darling, I was about to send a guard—”

“Cut the shit, Azzy,” she scolded. “I know you know your son arrived, killing everyone on his way. I don’t know how you expect him to rule anything; he’s so dramatic.”

Sam was settled in her—their—bed, and a healer was tending to everyone’s wounds. Everyone except Ros; he had barreled in behind her, going straight for his father. Instead of a sappy embrace, he grasped his father by the throat, eyes raging and red. Then his brow furrowed.

“Did you call him…Azzy?”

“Asmodeus is such a mouth full,” she answered, throwing herself down in her usual chair.

Ros looked horrified and loosened his grip on his father’s throat. Azzy tried hiding his excitement that his son was here, but Ellea saw his tell-tale signs.

“I’m definitely not calling him my king,” she said, making a face. “That’s like calling you prince all the time. Gross.”

Ellea picked at a small scone on the table beside her chair.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ros bellowed.

“I have been fighting to get here and you two have been, what, having tea and reading love stories all day? Sam almost died!”

“Son,” Azzy cut in.

“Don’t fucking ‘son’ me.” He pointed finger at his father. “You kidnapped her and then blocked me from Hel even though you wanted me back so badly! One of the reasons I stayed away from this place was your stupid games, and you dragged me right back in. Now you have Ellea eating out of your hand!”

“Hey!” she yelled from her chair.

“I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He barely looked at her before he whipped his head back to his father.

Ellea snapped. He had no right. Grabbing the closest thing to her, she hurled it at him. It hit the side of his head. The scone crumbled to the floor. Ros was so shocked that he didn’t notice how quickly she moved. Grasping his wrist, she twisted and yanked it behind his back. She kicked the back of his knee, and he buckled to the floor with a grunt. She used the momentum to slam his face into a plate of small sandwiches. He tried standing, but she sent a rod of electricity up his arm and he yelped in pain.

“Listen here, you fucking brute,” she seethed in his ear. “I missed you more than coffee, and you come in here being a total jerk? I don’t think so. I have not had it easy. You have once again underestimated me.”

She sent another surge of her magic up his arm when he tried standing, and he quickly submitted, growling into the cucumber and bread. “I have been fighting off attacks left and right—”