My King (Two Prince's Book 1) (13 page)

Ian

The estate we grew up on is not far from Collette’s. It’s actually on the same dirt road, about fifteen miles north of her place.

There are a lot of Supernaturals that live in this area.

The majority are council members. Most live here to be close to their ruler. My family has lived here for generations, owning hundreds of acres of land. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Collette’s house sits on my families land. There are a lot of houses on those hundreds of acres. All of them lived in by people in the supernatural community.

When my father was King, if you were one of his subjects, it didn’t cost you a damn thing to live on our land. No rent. No taxes. You built your home here, lived your life here, and created your family here. If you did that was that and it was considered yours. For as long as you wanted it to be. My father had loved his people.

Brooks has shared with me this is no longer the case. If you live on this land you are now responsible to pay rent for doing so. If you can’t pay it then you are forced to leave. That rent money goes straight into my Uncle’s fat pockets. Money he doesn’t need while he controls our family funds.

We own land all over the country. Most of it farm land. Land we make a fortune off of. And not a small one either. We have investments in companies all over the world. Well, last I knew we did.

My grandfather had bankrolled several of his peoples businesses. People who had big dreams but lacked the money to chase those dreams. Someone approached him and he gave them money on loan. They were successful and paid him back plus interest.

Word spread like wild fire causing more people to approach their King. He gave them all they asked for but he changed the terms of what he got in return. Instead of just getting back the money he fronted plus a small amount in interest, he partnered with them. Silent partner, of course. They agreed to those terms and people just kept on coming. Making his fortune even bigger.

Not every venture was a success, however. He took those losses in stride, not doing it for the money, but for his people.

Times were changing and living the simple life, hidden away in the woods amongst your own kind was getting harder and harder to do. He made the transition easier. That’s not to say it was a smooth transition, a lot of people fought it, were against mixing our lives with humans, but in the end they could do nothing to stop it. It was a necessary evil if we wanted to keep thriving. And thrive we did.

Now, not so much.             

My Uncle, consumed by his greed and lack of care for his people, is taking more and more from those businesses. He is taking so much that he’s crippling his own people. Crippling
my
people.

They work hard and have nothing to show for it but a fat King with even fatter pockets.

According to Brooks and Collette, the people are ready to revolt. They want my Uncle gone. The problem with that is he’s so heavily guarded and never leaves the estate, no one has the chance to challenge him. My people may want him gone but they will not go about it in a dishonorable way.

Brooks tells me the best hope they have is to wait for him to die naturally and then fight amongst themselves for the throne. And when I say fight amongst themselves I mean to the death. The last one standing, the strongest one, the victor, takes the throne.

It is savage and many people will die. Men and women.

This is how my family acquired it and the family before us and so on. That’s just how it’s done. Sometimes heirs will fight it. Whether they are successful, whether they live or die, all depends on their strength.

My grandfather wished to dispense with his. He wanted to change our laws to better suit the times. Our people are no longer savage in nature. He was hoping that with coming out of the woods to live civilly and not like the animals we can sometimes be, we could change our laws to be less barbaric.

He died before he could change it. My father made great strides but he too died before he could change the laws.

They wanted there to be a succession to the throne set up in place. A permanent one. One without bloodshed.

All talk of change died alongside my father. Under the rule of a vile, greedy man who gave not one fuck about them, the people were falling back into their primitive ways.

There’s rumors of the Vampires, Elves and Fairies all wanting to divert back to the old ways. They used to rule themselves.

They also used to wage war on one another. Fighting for land. For coin. For pretty much anything they could come up with to fight about.

The last war damn near wiped out the entire species of Fairies and Vampires. It is also the one that brought us together as a people united. Granted, it did not happen overnight, it took years of negotiations to get the majority on board.

The shifters have ruled ever since. The leadership going to the top of the food chain amongst the Supernaturals.

All of these things are my Uncles fault.

I know this.

Still…

I cannot help but feel as if they are my fault.

Things would be different had we never left. I cannot help but think had we stayed maybe I could have fought my Uncle. Maybe I could have exposed him for murdering my father and my people would not right now be suffering.

These thoughts weigh heavy on my heart and for the first time in my life I felt shame.

I’m ashamed of the fifteen year old boy I was.

The only thing I can do now is try to make it right. Try to right my Uncles wrongs. Try to right
my own
wrongs.

I hope I get the chance to.

I might not, though.

Who knows, my people might hate me as much as they do my Uncle.

I should never, ever have brought Shayne into this.

*****

“This place looks like a ghost town,” Shayne whispers.

She’s not wrong.

We had just turned onto the lane that will go right up to our home. On both sides sit buildings. Supermarket, strip mall, diner, coffee shop, bar, gas station. The list goes on. All there to accommodate my people.

And, very weirdly, as Shayne mentioned, looking like a ghost town.

Empty. The place is completely devoid of people.

“It’s the middle of the day,” she continues, still whispering, “Where are all the people?”

Again, she’s not wrong. It is the middle of the day.

A feeling of unease sweeps down my spine.

Where are all the people?

Where are
my
people?

My brother, probably sensing my unease, quietly reminds me, “It’s an open council meeting taking place in the throne room, brother. This is rare and will not want to be missed. They are likely attending it.”

“Right.” I mutter.

Shayne, in attempt to probably calm my nerves, reaches over and takes hold of my hand, lacing her fingers through mine.

It has the opposite affect though, only serving to remind me of what I now stand to lose.

Something, or more aptly put
someone
that holds more meaning to me than my people.

Her.

Why did I bring her with me?

Why?

I had not wanted her to come along.

Too late now to turn back.

My childhood home looms before us. It looks much the same. Huge, vastly so. Beautiful. Welcoming.

Welcoming…. If only.

Many different vehicles are parked on the side of the land and in front of the house. Some are even littering the front lawn.

“Ian?” Riley asks.

“Right up front, brother. I see no point in trying to hide.”

Shayne

People are staring at me. And not a small amount of people. Hundreds of people. Some taking in my features. Others, my plain, ordinary clothes. The majority, however, have their eyes locked on the teeth marks on my neck. The marks their, thought to be dead, Prince left on my neck.

And some of these people are most definitely
not
normal people.

Some of them have pastel colored hair with delicate, no
fragile
looking bodies. Tall and extremely thin. And, I cannot tell their genders apart, there’s nothing to specifically mark them as male or female. Very bizarre.

Some of them are short, so short they barely come up to my elbow. They have squat faces and despite their height (or lack of) they look anything but delicate. In fact, they look the opposite of delicate. They look…
sturdy
.

Mixed in are people with Collette’s paleness and gaunt features. Obviously Vampires. Although, none of them look to be as thin as she is. What was up with that? Is she some sort of anorexic Vampire or something? Wouldn’t surprise me to hear it.

And the others, well, they are built like how I’ve come to notice shifters are. Tall, broad, sturdy. Even the females look sturdy. These people I find intimidating.

And they all, each and every one of them, look downright pissed off.

For some reason, I have no idea how, I can tell they aren’t pissed at us though.

Suffice it to say, things at this juncture are not going so well for good ole Uncle Roland.

Oh no, they are not.

The old, obese and extremely unattractive man is fucked and he damn well knows it.

He’s trying, and failing spectacularly, to cover his ass. Acting like he’s ecstatic to see his nephews alive and well. Acting shocked to see them alive. Which in all fairness he probably is shocked but clearly for different reasons seeing as he knew they were alive. I’m guessing he’s shocked they waltzed on in here like they own the place and announced to the entire room what he did to their father. And that is exactly what they did.

As soon as we stepped foot into this opulent room I saw it on everyone’s faces. Instant recognition.

Questions were hurled around the room.

Mostly Ian, but sometimes Riley, answered.

The obese, old and extremely unattractive man sitting on a throne (a real freaking throne, no joke.) faked outrage and hurt. Well, I’m sure he’s outraged but just not for the reasons he’s sputtering out.

As for me, well, I only half listened to them.

My mind was elsewhere because from the moment I set foot in this mausoleum I was assaulted by thoughts that did not belong to me.

Alive.

How could that be?

Decapitated.

Poor boys.

On and on and on it went. It was freaking relentless.

Which brings us to now with everyone staring at me.

Mate.

I hear whisper through my mind in many different voices. So many it’s overwhelming.

Mate to the true king
.

I put my fingers to my temple and painfully press them into my skin, hoping to alleviate the pain and drown out most of the voices. It’s no use, though. I can feel a migraine start to take form in my head.

It’s overwhelming. Deafening. So very overwhelming.

Too much.

I blink as dark spots start to erase my vision.

Too much.

Too many voices inside my head that aren’t my own.

Half blindly, I swing my arm out. Coming in contact with something solid, I grab hold.

“What’s wrong?” a male voice murmurs close to my ear.

“My head,” I whimper, “Too many voices. It hurts.”

“Stay back,” I hear Ian menacingly growl.

“I can help her,” a singsong voice calls out.

“Last warning,” Ian growls, “Stay back.”

“I will not harm her, my King,” says the singsong voice, “Clearly, she is unwell and I can help her. That is all I wish to do.”

“Shayne,” Riley whispers in my ear, “What is wrong?”

“I can hear them,” I whisper, “In my head. It’s too much. Riley, it
hurts
.”

“Where is he? Where did he go?” Ian demands.

“He’s gone. Fuck, brother. He’s gone,” Riley angrily responds.

I hear a commotion and people start to scream. I try to block it out but I can’t. I let go of whoever I’m holding on to and press my palms into my temple.

A cold hand touches my cheek and, just like that, my pain is gone.

Lowering my hands I slowly blink open my eyes, lift my head and come face-to-face with a pastel haired, fragile featured boy/girl person with eyes the color of steel.

“Better?” the singsong voice from moments ago, the one who’d said they wished to help me, asks me.

Hmm… it would seem this person is female judging by the voice.

“Yes. I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.” I whisper tentatively, afraid if I speak too loudly my migraine will return.

Then, stupidly and intrusively, without thought, I ask her, “What are you?”

Her face changes from concern to amusement and she smiles brightly at me. “I am a fairy,” she boldly states.

“A fairy?” I stupidly repeat. At her nod I feel my eyes bug out and I whisper in wonderment, “Wow.”

She continues to grin at me.

Her grin quickly fades and is replaced with a scowl which she aims over my shoulder.

“Vampire,” she says, her beautiful, singsong voice coming out sounding harsh and unfriendly.

Collette appears at my side. She urges me to move forward, pulling on my arm. “We must be going,” she declares.

“Where’s Ian?” I ask her, completely ignoring what she said. I know Ian was close moments ago because I heard his voice and I desperately wish to know where he is now.

When she doesn’t answer I look around the room for him.

Too late, I realize all eyes are yet again on me.

Shit. Why does this keep happening to me?

These people, Ian’s people, must think I’m some kind of freak. Hell, I
am
a freak. This is just the first time I’ve had an incident in front of a whole room full of people instead of just one person.

Damn.

Collette continues to pull on my arm, dragging me behind her.

Tears start to well up in my eyes.

To my utter embarrassment and complete humiliation I feel wetness trickle down my cheeks.

Shit and damn.

“Unhand her, Vampire,” someone calls out, the voice distinctly male.

Collette stops dragging me to glance around the silent room.

An extremely short man with a squat face wearing a flannel button up shirt and worn looking jeans comes charging through the crowd. Straight at us.

People quickly retreat, moving back, further from us.

“Fuck,” I hear whispered from behind me.

Recognizing the voice I turn my head to see a worried looking Brooks come to a stop close to my side.

“Fuck,” he repeats, louder.

I follow his gaze to see the small man now standing not three feet in front of us. His arm is stretched out in front of him, fist balled except for his pointer finger which he has pointed directly at Collette’s face.

What now? I just want to get the heck out of here before my migraine reappears and I end up making more of a spectacle of myself. Ian will probably never forgive me for the freak show I’ve made myself out to be to his people already. A pain spears through my chest at the thought of Ian being embarrassed by me causing more tears to leak out my eyes.

I feel Brooks get closer to my side, crowding me.

“I said,” the small man snarls at Collette, “unhand her.”

Collette, in my opinion, very wisely lets go of my hand. She moves slightly so her back is towards me instead of her side. Effectively putting herself between me and the raging small man.

“Excuse me?” voice calm, betraying no emotion, she asks him.

Not taking my eyes off the scene in front of me I lean into Brooks and whisper, “Where is Ian?”

“He went after Roland,” Is his scary reply.

Oh God.

Oh my God.

I start to panic, my breath coming in quick pants, my chest rising and falling with each breath I take. No longer concerned about my own humiliation I’m consumed by worry over my… boyfriend?

“Shh… calm down. Riley went with him. I’m sure they’re fine.” Brooks quickly assures me.

Riley went with him? That made one more person I had to worry about.

Before I can reply the small man cries out, “You were hurting her!”

“I was not,” Collette, still calm, tells him.

“You were. She’s
crying
!”

Damn. Damn. Damn. This little man seems to have quite the flare for drama.

I reach up with my hand and franticly swipe at my cheeks, trying to wipe away the evidence of my stupid body’s betrayal.

“She is mate to our true King. How dare you put your hands on her,” the small man shouts in outrage. “How dare you!”

“Holy fuck,” Brooks whispers in shock. “Is this really happening?”

I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming but I’m too afraid to make any kind of movement with the enraged man so close to us.

“I was not harming her,” Collette snaps back, calm a distant memory, “I was trying to get her out of here
before
any harm could come to her.”

“You mean,” says another small man, stepping through the ever watchful crowd, “before we could harm her.”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” Collette replies, still snapping.

“What is going on?” Riley demands, coming out of the crowd to stop next to the small men.

“Where is Ian?” I ask him. More like demand to know.

“Why are you crying, Shayne?” he gently asks me.

“I--” I start but get no further.

“My Prince,” the first small man says, cutting me off and gesturing wildly towards Collette with his hands, “this Vampire has harmed her.”

“Collette, is this true?” Riley asks in a quiet, deadly voice, gentle a memory.

Collette’s already pale face grows paler as she blanches.

Shit.

I need to put a stop to this before Riley does something awful to Collette. A Collette who is simply trying to protect me.

“I’ve done nothing to harm her, I assure you, my Prince.” Collette hurriedly tries to explain herself to Riley. “I promised your brother I would keep an eye on his mate and this is what I am doing. Roland is gone and I thought to get her out of here just in case the people riot. I wanted to get her safely out of here, that is all.”

I believe her. She loves Ian and if something were to happen to me it would crush him and she would feel that pain. When you love someone the way Collette loves Ian and Riley you feel pain right alongside them because it hurts you to see them hurting. She would do anything to keep me safe for her King.

How no one else saw this I did not get.

“If this is true,” the small, angry man who spoke first puts in, “then why is she crying?”

Unable to let this go any further I boldly tell the man, “I’m not still crying.” Thank goodness this was true because I hadn’t really thought before speaking, I just needed something to say, anything really.

His muddy brown eyes move to me, his hard features immediately soften, and a gentle look spreads across his face.

Despite the softening of his features I cannot help but feel uneasy now that I’ve seem to have gained his full attention. Two seconds before he’d been practically snarling at the Vampire and now he’s looking at me with what appears to be rapt adoration mixed with concern.

Holy crap, these people were freaking crazy and perhaps Collette had been right in trying to get me the heck out of here when she did.

Too bad we were still here.

“If I may be so bold, young lady,” he says taking a step towards me causing Brooks and Collette to stiffen, “as to inquire about the markings at your neck. How did you come about receiving them?”

Oh my freaking god.

I cannot believe this little person just asked me this intrusive question in front of a room full of silent onlookers.

Heat makes its way up my throat and I can actually feel my face start to flame.

How unbelievably rude.

When I find Ian I’m going to kill him for doing this to me, for putting me in this ridiculous situation.

To my right Riley leans forward at the waist to hiss at the small man, “You know damn well how she got those marks on her neck. They are the markings of a mate and they were fucking put there by my brother. You need to close your mouth because,” his arm shoots out to the side and, adding further to my embarrassment, he points a finger at me and continues speaking, “As you can see you’re embarrassing her and making her uncomfortable. She is human, and as such, is not accustomed to the ways of our people.”