Rumpel's Prize (21 page)

Her heart leapt. “Have you ever made a vow to anyone?”

His lips stretched into a half grin. “Not often. In fact, you’re the first denizen of Kingdom I’m making one to.”

Warmed to the tips of her toes, she whispered, “Oh.”

Invading her space so that their bodies very nearly touched, he forced her to gaze on him before he spoke again. “If, when this is all over, you still wish to see my true form, I will show you. But in showing you, I might very well be damning you.”

“How do you mean?”

His jaw clenching highlighted the golden stubble on his cheeks. “A royal only shows his body, his true body, to his mate.”

Brows twitching, stomach in knots, she shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if I show you, I own you. Forever.”

She laughed. “You cannot be serious.”

But he was not laughing. In fact, he was the opposite of it—so serious that she could not doubt him. The laughter died on her tongue.

“You are serious?”

“In Kingdom, a mate exchanges vows of Veritas and that is how two souls are twined. In my realm, if the sentiment is the same, then we unmask ourselves.” He closed his eyes. “I know I said no innuendo and I meant it, but if I asked you to close your eyes now, would you do it?”

She licked her lips. “I cannot have sex with you, Rumpel. As much as I do want it.” Shayera was shocked by her boldness, but being apart from him for so long and now seeing him so close, having him present and smelling his scent of cloves and whiskey, it brought all the feelings back in such a rush that she had no filter.

“I wish only to touch your hand.” And holding his own up, he spread his fingers, and the meaning was clear.

She closed her eyes.

Sulfur and smoky cherries embraced her and then she shuddered at the first touch of his flesh upon hers.

“Carrot.” His voice grew impossibly deep and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping his own around her waist and just holding on.

She was lost in him. In his scent and the strength of his body. In the feel of him. Moaning, she dipped her nose into the hollow of his throat.

“Do not move anymore,” he rumbled. “I am on a knife’s edge and ready to toss you to the ground, but it is important that I prove I can be a man of my word.”

Wanting to share in his body desperately but understanding that what he did now meant so much more, she nodded. “Then tell me when you’re ready to let me go.”

They held tight to each other for what felt like an eternity, breathing in and out, reconnecting and reattuning themselves one to the other.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he kissed her forehead. “Let’s go then.”

She held his hand, and neither one of them spoke as he led her toward his bike, but silence when in the presence of someone special was a conversation of souls, and theirs spoke loudly.

Shayera was terrified of what she felt, of what this forced separation had shown her. No matter how long apart or how far the distance, Rumpel was in her heart.

The path they took was a straight one and when he stepped away and she smelled the sulfur again, she knew he’d changed. Opening her eyes, she blinked into the light.

They stood beneath a large wooden hangar where Genesis was parked. Now he wore a leather jacket over his shirt and had his hair gathered into a knot. “There is your gear.”

He pointed to a spot where a pink helmet, pink leather jacket, and leather pants rested. She smiled. “You knew I’d say yes?”

“I’d hoped.”

“Turn around,” she ordered.

His lips pressed together and she could tell he really didn’t want to turn, but she lifted her brow.

“Yes, mistress,” he drawled, gave her a dramatic bow, and then turned his back.

Latching on to her bottom lip to contain her happy smile, she pulled off her dress and quickly yanked on her clothes. They fit perfectly.

“Rumpel,” she said as she zipped up her jacket, “you didn’t give me a shirt to put underneath this.”

“Forgot.”

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. “I’m just sure you did.”

Laughing, he straddled the bike and it purred immediately to life, its headlight glowing a deep, crimson red.

Walking up to it, she patted the seat. “Genesis, may I please sit?” She remembered to ask this time.

“Once she’s given her okay, you need never ask again.” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“Oh.” Hopping on, she planted her hands on his shoulder. “How do I strap this helmet on?”

“Here, let me.”

Twisting, he helped her slip it on and then patiently directed her on how to thread the strap through to snap it in place. Holding out her arms, feeling a little claustrophobic inside the heavy shield on her head, she asked, “How do I look?”

She expected to hear all sorts of nonsense. I could eat you. Or ravishing. Or like a lollipop I wish to suckle… Really, it was Rumpel and he had a tendency to say the most dirty and raw things.

“Beautiful.” He smiled. “Now hang on to me tight.”

The moment she looped her arms around him, they were flying. Literally flying. The bike took off into the clouds, reaching speeds that made her dizzy. They sailed among the birds and she laughed as the clouds passed them by. She understood why he’d made her dress as she had. Not even a hair on her head was loose or able to hurt him as they flew at speeds beyond sound.

Content being right where she was, Shayera watched as the land rolled by, the twisted, knotted forest of Wonderland. The Seren Seas, the hills of Under, on and on Kingdom scrolled past like a dream. The old witch’s forest. The fairy gardens. The French hamlets.

Eventually she felt their speed decrease, but only once they’d dropped through the clouds did she realize they were descending. Rumpel finally parked them beside an enormous white coliseum.

It was a ruin, an exact approximation of Zeus’s temple, built by an old stone gnome. Smiling, she jumped off the bike and quickly undid her chinstrap, breathing deeply when the suffocating helmet finally came off.

“I’ve always wanted to see the ruins.” Running up to the temple, she traced the pomegranate carvings.

Rumpel hung back, watching her as she hopped and skipped through the stones, gazing up and down in awe at the fine craftsmanship.

“Maybe someday I could show you the real one,” he said, and her heart caught in her throat when she realized he’d materialized right beside her.

“I didn’t even see you move.”

“We princes can be very surprising.”

“Yes. You can.” She smiled. “So you travel to Earth then?”

“I make deals across all galaxies.”

She couldn’t imagine the sights he must have seen. Kingdom was so vast, but to think he’d gone beyond it—what more was out there?

“So what is all this for, Rumpel?”

“An olive branch, Carrot.” His hand lifted and he held it motionless by her face, as if he wanted to stroke her again, but this time he didn’t do it. Taking a seat on a toppled pillar, he patted the stone beside him. When she sat, he turned to her. He was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his hair still in that messy bun.

She had to employ every bit of willpower she had left not to loosen it. She loved to see it long and free on him.

“I wanted to talk with you, away from the prying eyes of the castle.”

“Prying? I rarely see a soul. Except for Dalia, and on occasion Giles.”

“And Kai. Do not forget the boy.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I played with him,” she said softly, afraid the boy might now be in trouble.

He sighed. “I’m not heartless. I know the reputation I have, and I’ve earned it. But I’m not soulless, Shayera. I do feel. A lot. And when I feel the hardest, the meaner I become. For that I’m sorry. Dalia told me of your affinity for children, so I sent the boy to you.”

Melting like wax on the inside, Shayera began to question everything she’d ever thought of Rumpel and his demone ways.

He inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, and with the halo of sun hitting his golden head, he appeared like an angel, beautiful and yet so sad. So burdened. She could feel it as if the emotion was her own and she was drowning in it.

“Thank you,” she breathed, wishing she could touch him. Could show him with actions and not just words what his admission meant to her. “Why do you send me away? After we’re intimate. Why?”

It was the one question that bothered her more than all the others.

His eyes cracked open and his gaze was intense as he said, “Because the things I feel when I’m with you terrify me.”

She moved into him just a little, just enough that their knees barely grazed. She wished there were no clothes between them.

“How do I make you feel?”

“You make me laugh.” He smiled. “You make me want. And you make me desperately confused.”

“Why should it be so difficult?”

Sitting up, he shoved his fingers through his hair, slipping the bun free, and she couldn’t help but smile when it tumbled across his shoulders.

Rumpel was a male Venus de Milo. How many hearts had he broken, even unwittingly?

“Because that is my life. I am an exiled prince and there are…” His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead.

The coliseum was situated on the flat slope of a tall mountain. The heavens stretched out before them and the clouds were a pale orange as the sun began to set.

“There are things that I cannot speak to you about. That I want to with every fiber of my being.” He looked at her. “But you still have one test left.”

“I do not like those tests,” she finally admitted it to him. “I’ve tried to be brave and not show you what I feel, but I hate the games. What they make me feel afterward. Even knowing it’s not real, my senses are so drugged, so involved, that I cannot separate fact from fiction. Why must I continue to play?”

His eyes grew hooded. “It is not so simple an explanation. The games have begun and so they must end.” His breath shuddered and she sensed that he grappled with this. “Tell me, what would you do to save the life of someone you loved?”

Her heart raced—she’d gotten her first real clue. “Is that what this is about? To save a life? Is that why I’m here?”

He didn’t answer.

Licking her lips, she spoke from the heart. “Rumpel, whatever it is that you need from me, I would do it.”

“But you do not know what is even required, and what if at this point I’m not sure I’m willing to allow it anymore?”

“Are you willing to allow it?”

A robin sang a sweet melody as crickets chirped, and the air was alive with the scent of life. The sun was warm upon her face and for the first time she felt hope, a sense of purpose even.

“You must face the final challenge.” He looked over her shoulder. “And then judgment will be passed.”

“I do not like the sound of that.”

His lashes fluttered and he looked like a man torn apart. Swallowing, he whispered, “I will make this right, somehow. Do not worry anymore.”

“How can I not?”

“Because…” He scraped a hand down his jaw. “You are worth it. Now let us talk of other matters. What do you think of Genesis, is she not amazing?” And she could feel the words were forced, far more jovial than he actually felt.

Shayera wasn’t sure she was ready to change the subject, but neither did she want to linger on this. She’d spent three weeks locked away in her room, and now the man she’d craved the entire time was here and he was being true to his word. A girl couldn’t get any luckier than that.

“She is amazing. If I didn’t know any better I’d think her alive.”

He chuckled. “She was once. Hundreds of years ago.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “What did that poor girl ever do to deserve this fate?”

Lifting his brows, he pointed at the bike. “It was her request. She believed herself desperately in love with me and wished never to be parted from my side. She’s evolved many times in her life since. First a horse, then a car, now a bike.”

Turning to stare at the gleaming chrome, Shayera shook her head. “But did she really intend this fate? Why not keep her as a woman?”

His grin was cocky as he said, “Because in her own words, she wished me to ride her for the rest of her days.”

Covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a scandalous snort, Shayera said, “Okay then. But I’m still certain she did not mean to be nothing more than a pile of metal.”

“I do not keep her bound to me. She is here of her own free will. Her soul is still very much alive in there, and she knows that I will return her to her old form if ever she wants it. But seeing as how I’d taken no lovers since entering Kingdom”—he glanced at her from the corner of her eye—“then that would mean she would be parted from me. I like her more this way and I’m sure she feels the same.”

The truth of that statement hit her like a fist to the stomach. “You take no lovers?”

“I’ve taken none since entering Kingdom, save you.”

And here she’d believed that she’d been the only one as deeply affected because of her limited exposure to men. “Wh…”

She wasn’t even sure what she’d meant to say there.

“Because you’re you.” He smiled. “You do not fear me. You do not act coy, or childish, or try to manipulate me with your charms, though you certainly could. You are simply yourself and I like it, Shayera Caron. A lot.”

Another month had passed since that day in faux Athens and as time passed, the two of them grew closer.

And while that elated Rumpel, it also worried him. He’d made a vow, to both Euralis and Shayera, vows he meant to keep.

But how?

How could he keep one without breaking faith with the other?

Brooding, he drank from the glass of whiskey in his hand and stared deep into the fire. It was well past midnight, the servants were all abed, but yet he knew if he called for Giles his man would come. Still, he couldn’t do that.

A flash of pink static popped through the room and then a dragonfly-winged vision in lavender sailed through. Danika’s transformation still unnerved Rumpel. In all the time he’d known her, she’d always been a matronly, plump lady.

He wasn’t used to the svelte curves of a flower fae, not on her anyway. Blinking big blue eyes at him, she dusted off her petal gown and sighed.