My King (Two Prince's Book 1) (9 page)

Ian

I am shocked, to say the least, when the brothers LeRoy stepped out of a dark sedan with the tracker. I’d been right, they were traveling with a tracker.

The brothers LeRoy and I had grown up not together, but around each other. They were from a very old family line, much like my own. Although, my line was stronger than theirs.

Their father had been a council member and was a close friend of my fathers. He probably still sat on the council.

The brothers three looked the same as I remembered them, only slightly older. At twenty-nine Brooks was the eldest. The only major difference between him and the other two was that he kept his hair cropped close to his head and the other two did not. Reed and Austin are twenty-six and identical twins. Honestly, the three of them could pass as triplets that’s how similar they are in looks.

Seeing the three of them step out of that car throws me off. I don’t know what to make of them being here. Why in the hell have they be following us and with a fucking tracker no less?

It doesn’t make sense.

They keep some distance from us, stopping in the middle of the road, ten feet from us.

Riley’s in animal form and I wonder what Shayne thinks of him. I don’t dare take my eyes off of the men standing ten feet in front of me to look her way. Probably for the best. She could be a serious distraction and I needed to focus.

I cross my arms over my chest and wait. I’m not going to be the first one to open my mouth.
They
have been following
us
.

They don’t make me wait long for it.

Brooks is the first one to speak.

“You’re alive and well I see,” he blandly states.

I say nothing to this. I mean really, he’s not blind.

One of the twins, I have no way of knowing which one, takes a step forward to immediately step back when Riley growls at him. The sound rumbles in his chest.

However, this does not deter him from speaking.

Without any hint of accusation and sounding genuinely confused, he asks me, “Where the hell have you been, man? How could you just leave your people? Is Leland with you as well?”

“I had no choice but to leave,” I tell him, my voice coming out cold, “and no, my father is not with us. He is dead.”

The other twin speaks up, saying, “at least it wasn’t all a lie.”

Sighing, I uncross my arms to rub my temples with my fingers. Definitely not what I had expected. I almost wished for a fight over this.

Still rubbing at my temples I ask them, “How did you figure out we weren’t dead?”

“The Vampire Wiley was telling anyone and everyone who would listen to him that he saw our true king and the prince.” Brooks says, “of course he disappeared before we could question him about it.”

“Things have been a bit… tense ever since,” says one of the twins, the one who’d spoken first out of the two of them.

“Roland’s lost his fucking mind,” says twin number two.

“What was left of it, that is,” mutters Brooks.

“And the tracker?” I ask.

“A necessary evil,” Brooks calmly tells me, “Collette had left soon after Wiley disappeared and we knew she would be looking for you. I knew if there was some truth to Wiley’s tale and you were alive, she would find you.” He shrugged as if it were all really that simple. “So we followed her and what do you know, here you two are. In the flesh and not a corpse.”

“It’s against the law,” I tell him something he should damn well already know. Everybody knew it was against the law to dabble in dark magic. Freaking everybody. Hell, even babies knew to stay away from it.

“Roland cares naught for the law. All he cares about is sitting on his grand throne and counting his gold while his fat ass gets fatter. All the while our people are fighting amongst each other and the Vampires are pretty much shunned,” he fires back, sounding, for the first time since he stepped out of the sedan, pissed way the hell off.

“What’s going on with the Vampires?” I’m so surprised by what he says I can’t hold in my curiosity.

Surprising me, it is Collette who answers my question.

“Roland blamed Vampires for the death of your father as well as your own. No one was ever put to trial for it because he had no proof because there
is
no proof. The people blame us Vampires as a whole for it. They needed someone to blame so he gave them us. We have been shunned ever since,” she looks to the LeRoy brothers then back to me before continuing, “The fact that anyone other than a Vampire even believed Wiley is a small miracle.”

“When were you planning on telling me this?” I demand, my voice deep, threatening.

“I was planning on filling you in upon arrival of my home,” she sniffs.

“Is this why you sought us out?”

“Of course not,” she says, sounding hurt.

“She’s telling the truth,” Shayne states.

I look to the back of the truck and there she stands. Eyes wide, her gaze locked on Riley.

“I thought I told you to stay in the truck.”

She raises her eyes to mine and says, “You left all the windows rolled up and it was getting hot in there. Besides,” she looks back to Riley, “I was curious.”

With her hand stretched out in front of her she cautiously approaches my brother and asks, “May I touch you?”

Riley starts to purr. Taking this as the yes it was meant to be, she runs her fingers along his back.

A look of wonderment crosses her face but she doesn’t say anything.

“Ian, who is this?” Brooks asks me.

Distractedly, eyes still on Shayne, I tell him, “My mate.”

“Mate?” both twins whisper at the same time.

“Shayne,” I say.

“Hmm…” is her reply.

“Shayne,” I repeat.

Finally she tears her eyes off of Riley, looking back to me she says, “Yes?”

“What were you saying about Collette telling the truth?” I ask her.

“She loves you. Both of you and she would never do anything to cause you harm.”

“How do you know this?” I question, hoping to all that is holy she will open up and give me the honesty I so desperately seek from her.

“She’s upset and projecting her thoughts.”

“Again,” I ask, “how do you know this?”

“Can we discuss this later?” she asks me, “Without an audience?”

“Is she human?” Brooks asks me.

“Of course I’m human,” Shayne snaps at him with fire burning in her eyes. Christ, she’s beautiful when she’s riled up and pissed. “What else would I be?”

“Incredible,” the twins murmur.

“Indeed,” Brooks tells them.

“Ian?” Shayne says, drawing my attention back to her, “Is this what you look like when you’re an animal?”

“Yes,” I reply, “only bigger.”

“Will you show me?” she hesitantly asks me. Riley turns his head, rubbing his nose along her thigh.

“I will. When we have that discussion later. When we are alone.”

“Promise?” she asks me.

Leaning over my brother I cup her face with my hands and gently kiss her on the forehead.

Resting my forehead against hers I whisper, “Yeah, baby. I promise.”

“Mates,” the twins whisper in awe.

Shayne

For the first time in days I am left to my own devices, in a room all by myself. Well, sort of.

We had stopped midafternoon at a hotel (yes, an actual hotel this time. Not a cheap one either!) and checked into two rooms. One for the LeRoy party and one for our own. I very much wished their party consisted of Collette as well instead of our own. They were adjoining rooms. Hence, me being alone but only sort of.

They guys and Collette were in the other room discussing whatever it was they had to discuss.

I hadn’t bothered to ask because I hadn’t wanted to be privy to any of it. I’d been invited over but opted out for some much needed alone time.

I had outed myself. If that’s not bad enough I went and did it in front of a bunch of strangers and a freaking dead guy. Thankfully, no one thought I was a freak. But then again they all turned into animals and sprouted fur so they really had no room to talk. All except for the Vampire, of course, she sprouted fangs.

I’m freaking out about this but at the same time I’m a little relieved. Getting it out in the open has lifted a huge weight off my chest. That doesn’t mean I am looking forward to talking about it with Ian because I am not. Talking about it would lead to talking about my aunt and I avoided that awful topic at all costs. If I could erase every memory of her from my mind I would without hesitation. Any thought of her was painful and unappreciated.              

There’s a knock on the adjoining door. It’s pushed open before I have a chance to call anything out or get up and open it myself.             

Ian pushes his way in closing the door behind him. Crossing his arms over his broad chest he leans back against the closed door, stating “It’s later.”

It was indeed later.

When I say nothing, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“Everything,” I tell him, because it’s the truth.

“Care to be a bit more specific?”

“Not particularly,” I say, also the truth.

He lets out a frustrated huff while uncrossing his arms to run his fingers through his glorious hair.

“You can let me in. You know that, right? I’d never say or do anything to hurt you.”

“I know,” I whisper, and I did know. For whatever reason he would see no harm ever come to me, of this I was certain. “But it’s not that easy for me.”

“I’m getting that,” he says.

“My aunt,” I choke out, “things… she… it wasn’t good.”

“Where are your parents, Shayne?” he gently asks me.

“They’re gone,” I whisper.

“Gone where, baby?” he asks. When I don’t respond he asks me a different question, “Are they dead?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him, still whispering.

“You don’t know,” he whispers back, not a question but a statement.

Louder, I say, “I can’t talk about this.”

He walks to the bed and sits down next to me. Putting his big hand on my knee he squeezes. “You can,” he tells me.

“Alright,” I agree, “I can but since I
don’t want to
I’m not going to.”

“If you answer my questions,” he says, “I’ll shift for you.”

“But you promised,” I accuse him.

“I know but I didn’t say when I’d show you.”

“That’s an asshole move.”

Unrepentant, he shrugs.

“Fine,” I say blowing out a breath in frustration.

“The beginning is usually a good place to begin,” he tells me, repeating the words I said to him only yesterday. It feels longer, like we had that conversation weeks ago.

My back to the headboard, knees to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs and my chin resting on my knee, I begin my story.

“I’m the product of rape,” I start. I hear him suck in a harsh breath but I don’t look at him. I can’t. Eye contact with him at the moment, with
anybody
, would be unbearable.

Eyes on my feet I continue, “My mother was walking home from a friends house late one night when she was attacked, beaten and raped. The man who raped her was never found. When she realized she was pregnant with me she wanted an abortion. Immediately. My grandfather forbid it, saying it was a sin. Being a minor she couldn’t go against his wishes. So she had me. When it was time for me to go home from the hospital she was gone. Just up and disappeared. My grandfather forced his eldest daughter to take me, saying I was family and family belonged with family. Agreeing with him, she kept me and raised me.”

“I’m so sorry sweetheart,” he says as soon as I stop talking.

I nod because I am too. I would have loved to have known my mother.

“Do you know what happened to your mom?” he asks me.

“I don’t know. To the best of my knowledge she was never seen or heard from again. But I guess she could have contacted my grandfather and he may have hidden it from me. But I haven’t laid eyes on her since the day I was born.”

I can feel the tears that have been pooling in my eyes slip out and slide silently down my cheeks.

Angrily I swipe at them with my shirt sleeve.

Ian reaches over, grabs ahold of my arms and hauls me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and holds on.

He holds me until I’m done crying. All the while he says nothing, just holding me close to him.

It felt nice. I’ve never had someone hold me before.

I never wanted him to let me go.

“Who told you about your mom, sweetheart?” he asks me once I’ve stopped crying. His hand roams up and down my back in a sweet caress.

“My aunt,” I whisper back.

“How old were you when she told you that shit?”

“The first time I can remember was on my fifth birthday.”

“Jesus,” he mutters.

I turn in his arms so I’m facing him, my face just inches from his.

“She loved her sister,” I tell him, “and she blamed me for her sister being gone from her life.”

“That’s fucked up,” he states, “it’s not your fault your mom was raped and it sure as hell isn’t your fault she took off after she had you. That’s not on you, baby. Please, tell me you do not blame yourself for your mom taking off.”

“I don’t.”

“Your aunt sounds like a bitch,” he tells me.

“She’s dead.”

“Well,” he says, “doesn’t change the fact that she still sounds like a bitch.”

“She was,” I tell him.

“It’s good she’s dead then,” he states.

I agreed.

Totally.

No way was I about to admit it out loud though.

Changing the subject, I hopefully ask him, “Will you show me now?”

He grins while shaking his head no.

“I’m not done with my questions.”

Jesus, really? I was done with my answers.

“Haven’t I shared enough for the day?” I ask him, “Or, ya know, the next five years. Sounds about right to me. Also, just in case you were wondering, it would not hurt my feelings in the least if we never brought any of this shit up ever again.”

I bite my lip and dramatically bat my eye lashes at him.

He laughs but alas is not deterred.             

Figures.

Oh well. At least I tried.

“Tell me about your telepathy,” he demands of me.

Sighing, I reluctantly ask, “What do you want to know?”

He arches his eyebrow at me.

“Right,” I mutter, “everything.”

I lay my head on his shoulder and breathe in his intoxicating scent.

“Why do you smell like that?” I murmur.

“It’s a shifter thing,” he tells me, “it’s also something only people with magic should be able to scent.”

“I don’t have magic,” I say. Because really I don’t. Don’t you think that’s something I would have noticed before?

“Baby, what do you think your telepathy
is
?” he gently asks me.

Here’s the kicker, when I was a little girl, I believed in magic. I also considered hearing other people’s voices in my head to be a gift. When I was twelve I told my aunt so. If I had any kind of magic in me she had beat it right out of me after I told her about it.

After that I was careful. Made sure I never brought it up in front of her. I slipped up once. When I was fifteen I accidently answered a question she hadn’t asked. Aloud that is.

That’s when she brought the priest in. She was convinced because of my unknown rapist of a sperm donor I had a demon living inside of me.

To her, it explained everything. Why my mother left me. Why I heard voices in my head. Why she hated me. Why I was
so
evil. She honestly felt this way and she never let me forget she did.

I don’t know what she told the priest to convince him of the same but whatever it had been, convinced he was.

Enough to wake me up in the middle of the night after he had tied my arms and legs down to my bed posts.

He was convinced enough to perform a fucking exorcism on me.

Hell, maybe she had told him the truth. That my father was a sick fuck, a disgustingly vile human being. That I was a product of rape. My mother took off because she couldn’t bear to even look at me. That was enough to damn me in my aunt’s eyes. But I knew with the priest it had to be more. She had to have told him about my ‘telepathy’ as Ian calls it.

Whatever the case was, it didn’t mean shit to me.

I hated that priest more than I ever had my aunt.

I was an innocent girl and he, a priest, had hurt me. Both physically and emotionally. He traumatized me and he scarred me for life.

For. Life.

I wasn’t tight with the big man upstairs but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be down for something like that.

After enduring eight hours of his chanting and torture, I did what I had to do to put an end to it. That’s to say, I faked it.

Finally, after I gave up being real with them and started pretending, they left me alone.

It was too late because the damage was already done.

I had never told a sole about what had happened.

I had hoped I would never have a reason to.

Looking up at Ian I notice him watching me carefully, looking concerned.

You know what? He’s a good enough reason to do anything. This beautiful man who seems to care so much about me in such a short amount of time.

Yes.

He’s a good enough reaso
n
.

I opened my mouth and told him my story.

All of it.

I told him
everything
. What kind of torture the priest had put me through to extract my demon, all the vile things my aunt had said to me over the years. I gave it all to Ian.

He held me tight the whole time.

When I was done speaking and my tears had subsided he still held me tight. Although he did it with us both lying down, my head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around me, our legs tangled together.

My last thought before sleep consumed me was yes, he was worth everything because he was becoming everything to me.