thought of Lady Jax, then her mate, Lord Jax. I remembered him fondly. No one loved to laugh more than he did. And he adored his mate, at least all those years ago. I doubted that would have changed. If any of my daughters were in that house, they’d be safer there than they would be with Lord Wyse, that was for damned sure. He’d had Faith in custody—in his evil grasp—but she’d somehow slipped through his fingers. No wonder he was pissed.
“Better Lord Jax than you, cousin.”
“Where are the jewels, Celene?”
God, he was like a broken record.
“They won’t do you any good, you know,” I said again, even though he knew all this. “Even if you had them, they’re useless now with four spires lit at the citadel. Killing me does nothing.” I looked him over, from head to toe, slowly, with as much disgust as I could muster. “And you’re not the most attractive male on the planet. You’ll look like a complete idiot with a pretty necklace on your greedy neck.”
He did not respond, but stared at me for a full minute before speaking. “Not when you’re all dead, Celene. I’ll wear them to your burial ceremony. Yours, and all three of your daughters’.”
1
Faith Jones Herakles, The Royal Palace, Planet Alera
“I had sex with a bad guy. A really bad guy.” I moaned, ran my hand through my tangled hair. The sheet I’d been wrapped in when I arrived lay in a crumpled heap by the bedpost in my sister’s royal bedchamber. Seeing it was a reminder. Of him.
I kicked it in frustration, narrowly missed stubbing my bare toes on the large wooden frame of the bed. The fabric smelled like Lord Thordis Jax, the sex-on-a-stick, sexy as hell, too damn good looking for his own good, male claiming to be my mate. The Aleran rotting in my sister’s dungeon—well, technically, it was my dungeon too—right now for trying to have her kidnapped and killed. The male Trinity believed had betrayed the entire family.
And I wanted him again anyway. I felt achy. Needy.
Empty. My pussy. My chest. My skin. I needed him to touch me in a way I’d never needed anyone.
This Ardor was serious fucking business.
“Look on the bright side, Faith, at least it wasn’t Zach Richardson.” My sister, Her Royal Highness, Princess Trinity Herakles, had the good graces to look sympathetic. She had her mate. Her Ardor was over. And she was so blissfully in love, every time I saw her and Leo together my heart hurt.
Jesus. I had it bad. For a traitor.
Despite the rambling nature of my thoughts, I couldn’t believe what she’d just said.
“What?” I stared at her, thought of Zach, the total loser from high school, then burst out laughing, which only added to my emotional roller coaster. Sad, mad, angry and now laughing like a lunatic.
I’d been quiet on the ride to the palace. Was quiet still—which was very unlike me. I talked smack as a general rule. But then, the last few days of sneaking around, lying low, and cleaning a traitor’s house, had taken the proverbial wind right out of my sails. I felt as if I’d been stunned by an ion blaster. Again.
Only this time they’d aimed right for my heart and somehow skipped the rest of me.
When the guards had burst into the bedroom in Thor’s apartment, I’d been confused. When I saw the assassin who had tried to kill us—no, who I’d tried to kill us the night we arrived on Alera—I’d been terrified.
But finding out Trinity was there to save me from a traitor?
That had broken me somehow. Seeing Thor standing there naked, willing to defend me, had made me love him, just a little. But then those eyes had darkened with betrayal when he realized who I was. When we’d shared so much and I hadn’t told him I was a princess.
It was as if I’d betrayed him.
The man had balls of steel. I’d give him that.
But then, he was a spoiled lordling, raised in a fancy mansion. A traitor. Was it any surprise he believed the same way an entitled rich kid would back home on Earth? Thinking the world owed him everything? Believing he had the right to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted?
I kicked the sheet again. He’d taken what he wanted from me as well.
And I’d let him.
No. I’d begged him for more. Begged. And whimpered. And let him take me over and over and over.
Fuck. I was an idiot.
“Stop trying to kill the sheet. It didn’t do anything.” Trinity’s words were meant to lighten the mood, but they were too soft. She knew. Somehow, she knew exactly how this was tearing me in half.
Her mate, Leo, had escorted us up through dark secret passages—which would have been pretty darn cool if I wasn’t such a hot mess. They’d ushered me into their private quarters on the second floor, and I’d promptly burst into tears. I had no idea how long I’d cried, but when the crying jag had stopped, Trinity and I were alone.
No doubt Leo had taken one look at me, a sobbing mess, and run for his life.
Trin had given me a robe, and I’d dropped the sheet like it burned.
Thor’s scent, of hours of sex, still clung to me. Even without the sheet, I could smell him.
I needed a fucking shower. With a power washer strong enough to take off my skin. Maybe then I could get him out of my head. Maybe then my body would stop screaming at me to go crawl into his arms and ask for more.
At least all my tears had run out. When that happened, I’d switched to being mad, pacing the sitting area in her suite with a furious fervor that would surely wear a path in the sumptuous carpet. I’d muttered to myself, swore that all men were assholes and not worth anything. How dare Thor fuck me, all the while being a traitor! How could he be a murderer and get hard at the sight of me? It made no sense. How could one be so evil and then be so intent on giving me pleasure when he got between my thighs?
None of it made sense and probably, to Trinity, neither did I. Thankfully, she’d remained silent, just letting me vent. Between me, Trinity and Destiny, one of us was always having some kind of meltdown. At least once a week back home. We’d agreed when Destiny and I were thirteen, and Trinity sixteen, that only one of us could lose our shit at any given time. Clearly, it was soooo my turn.
Trinity had Leo. She was known and recognized as the princess. Not working as a maid, arrested and accused of being an informant or traitor. Clearly, I was off the hook for that. I wanted to give Lord Wyse and his scar-faced friend in the Optimus unit a middle finger salute, the asshole.
No luck there either. Which was fine. But instead of a fancy entrance with a gorgeous gown and tons of press—like Trinity had during her grand entrance into public life on the front steps of the palace—I’d been sneaked in so only a few knew I was here, and the rest didn’t know who I was,
