I snorted and shook my head over the mere idea.
Bound to a Donnellean?
Bull. Shit.
The tingling grew worse.
I muttered a curse under my breath. Dammit. This couldn’t be happening.
Allera glanced at me, her gaze showing a bit of concern. “Is it growing stronger?”
I gave a barely perceptible nod, my jaw tense with the restraint it took not to touch the afflicted area.
“We’re getting closer to her then,” she said, quite unnecessarily. “She must be part of the royal party.”
I shook my head, denying it.
I wasn’t sure why that idea panicked me more, but it did. I wanted to spin in the opposite direction and flee.
“Yeah,” I muttered, tugging at my collar. “That’d be just…grand.”
“Urban,” she hissed. “I told you not to mess with the mark.”
In front of us, two rows of guards lined the entrance of the keep. The duo closest to the doors stepped toward each other to open them so we could pass through. I nearly planted my feet in the ground and refused to move another step, but my annoying sister sent me a death glare that kept me walking relentlessly forward, following Short Bangs inside.
I ground my teeth once we made our way into the keep.
I turned toward her frantically, panicking, not sure what to do. My one true love was near, and I was about to meet her. How the hell was I supposed to handle this?
Ah fuck, I was bound to a fucking Donnellean. How was this happening? I wasn’t ready.
I liked being a bachelor: flirting with whomever I wanted, bedding beautiful willing women who only wanted me to pleasure them for a short while before we both went our separate ways. I didn’t want to settle down and tie myself to just one person. I knew nothing about relationships and commitment and all that muck.
Reaching out, I took Allera’s hand and squeezed because we were in the same boat now, doomed to fates with foreign strangers.
She squeezed back and refused to let go.
I shifted closer and murmured, “Have I told you you’re the bravest sister I ever had?”
I had no idea how she was facing this. I wanted to run and never look back.
She snorted, but a smile wavered on her lips, and she seemed to relax a small measure.
In front of us, Short Bangs reached the end of the grand hall where he opened the doors to the great Throne Room. As he stepped to the right and called our names, Allera and I entered side by side.
Here is where I normally would’ve rolled my eyes at all the unnecessary extravagances that decorated the enormous marble room. But yeah, was I still inside? I didn’t know, couldn’t care. My surroundings no longer mattered to me. The only thing my body could register was the unceasing buzz of awareness my mark kept emitting.
Abruptly letting go of my hand to stride forward, Allera left me behind to follow her, her chin up and head held regally high.
I kept two steps behind, like a good bodyguard, proud to be her brother.
Yet all the while, the sensation in my mark heightened, nearly making me wince and double over. My one true love was definitely among the royal court. As a servant or noble-born, I had no clue, but she was here, in this very room. My mark was nearly screaming over her vicinity.
And then the sensation changed. Like sunshine blasting out the darkness, or immediate pleasure soothing away pain, fear morphing into comfort, the mark stopped feeling bothersome and terrifying, and it started feeling…good.
Reassuring and warm.
So damn warm.
And lovely.
But what the hell?
I swear, I was a split second from coming in my damn trousers.
She alone could abate this restless heat climbing from my soul and escaping through my pores.
Maybe turning away from a chance to bed many partners in order to belong only to my one true love wouldn’t be so bad after all, because the high I was experiencing was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I was ready to throw her over my shoulder and whisk her away to the first private room we found. My cock was so painfully hard, I swear the mere way it brushed against the inside of my britches was making it pulse.
My blood surged in my veins, and my heart pounded incessantly.
I wanted her. Now.
I wasn’t sure if I managed to look disinterested and disdainful as I leisurely took in my surroundings, searching for her, but that was the goal. I didn’t want anyone to see any weakness in me. Besides, Allera had said not to react, and she’d gone through this before, so she should know. But goddamn…
My one true love was right here. In this room. I needed to be with her. Pretending she wasn’t close felt all kinds of wrong.
“Ah. Princess Allera. Prince Urban. Royal son and daughter of the house of Bjorn from the southern realm of High Cliff. Welcome.” The man seated at the main throne stood and smiled amiably before he hurried down the steps to approach us, his hands outstretched. “We have eagerly awaited your arrival.”
Well, he was certainly a friendly sort. Father never stood and went to his visitors to receive them. He usually remained seated at his throne, waiting with a stony expression until they bent the knee and bowed first. Then and only then did he deign to even acknowledge whoever was in front of him.
Not that I really cared about the differences in the two kings at the moment. I was too busy hoping the chain mail hanging off my sword belt was efficiently covering proof of my desire for my one true love.
“I’m Caulder of Donnelly.” The young king shook with Allera first, clasping her single hand with both of his. He didn’t look much older than us, which settled my mind a bit about his younger brother. At least my sister wouldn’t be bound to a man three times her age. She would hate that.
King Caulder had a head full of thick, dark hair that held a fashionable wave and agreeable features. If Prince Brentley looked half as decent as him, I had a feeling Allera would be satisfied with at least the visage of her new spouse.
The young king turned to me next, giving me the same open, amiable greeting he’d given my sister.
It was the most discerning sensation I’d ever felt in my life, almost like a physical caress, and what was worse, I couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw or not.
Great. Now on top of everything else, I was nervous about whether she was pleased with me or not. I’d never been self-conscious before. I didn’t much like it.
“And this is my brother, Prince Brentley of House Donnelly.” Caulder stepped aside to reveal a shorter, portly version of himself.
I spent a few seconds blocking the roaring urges in my blood in order to study the man who would become my brother-in-law. He looked even kinder and more naïve than the king, which actually eliminated many worries I had about him. I certainly didn’t want a cruel, arrogant, strict tyrant for Allera. She was much too free-spirited to be tied down. If she was being forced into a marriage, this guy might actually do perfectly for her.
Honestly, the only thing that wasn’t easing my mind was this damn mark pulsing against my eye. It kept sending jolting, electrical pulses through me, making my body heat irrationally and my cock thicken like a motherfucker.
Was it going to do this every time she was near? That would drive me batty. How did all the marked couples who’d found each other handle it? Did they just spend most days fucking, or what?
At the moment, I could totally get behind a plan like that.
After Brentley greeted Allera, gawking and blushing and stumbling over his words because he seemed immediately smitten with her, he finally turned to me.
I put a tighter grip on this handshake than I had with the king, but my sister’s betrothed only grinned goofily as if he understood he was being put to a test. I had to respect that.
I gave Brentley a courteous nod. “Prince Brentley,” I murmured. “It’s an honor.”
All the while, I just wanted to shout—someone introduce me to my one true love, so I can tackle her against the nearest available wall and rut a dreamy smile onto both our faces.
I swear, keeping that demand in was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
Brentley laughed uneasily at my formal greeting as if embarrassed by such respect, his round cheeks turning bright pink. Bowing his head, he returned the sentiment. “Likewise, Prince Urban.”
King Caulder motioned to someone behind them. “Then this is our first cousin, Sir Soren, also of House Donnelly. He is my top advisor and closest friend.”
Who the fuck cared? Where was my woman, already?
But I stood patiently, every muscle in my body tense and alert as Sir Soren snapped to attention. With light hair that was long and tied back at his nape, Soren had a narrower, pointed face and more colorless, vapid features than his two cousins. He didn’t seem to be as openly friendly as them either.
Reserving his smile, Soren kept a ways back and merely nodded to both Allera and me, his gaze condescending and pompous. His demeanor told me the cousin—best friend—top advisor thought the same of High Cliff folk as I did about Donnelleans—that we were not to be so easily trusted. If my gut instinct was correct—and it usually was—I’d bet Sir Soren had advised King Caulder not to marry his brother off to Allera, alliances be damned.
So my first impression: Sir Soren seemed like a dick.
A more dickish dick than I.
But I didn’t care about him either. I just wanted to meet my damn one true love.
“And this is my sister, Princess Nicolette Donnelly.” When Caulder splayed his hand to the right, I paused, anticipating feeling a punch of longing when I faced her.
But when I turned… Nothing.
Allera had been right. The princess honestly was one of the rarest beauties I had ever seen. But I still released a breath of gratitude when my mark didn’t focus on the dark-headed girl, glad my bond wasn’t for the princess. She was quite young, just a teen from the looks of it. It would’ve been agony to have to wait years before I could wed her… And thus bed her.
Because I wanted to bed my one true love today… Right now.
My brother Olivander’s one true love was only fifteen and half his age. He’d met her when she was just a babe, and as soon as she’d hit puberty, he’d sent her off to a boarding school to avoid temptation, where he refused to see her again until she was a proper age to wed. The last few years had been a miserable, difficult time for him. He’d become quite moody and irrational. It would wreck me if I had to suffer through the same fate as him and wait so long for my mate.
Her shoulders lowered fractionally, the only disappointment she would dare show.
“And please excuse my wife,” King Caulder said, flashing a dismissive wave of his hand over his shoulder toward his throne. “She’s remained seated with her sister. Movement becomes quite difficult and cumbersome at this stage in the pregnancy, I hear.”
Caulder continued to motion his white-gloved hand toward the dais, where two honey-blonde-headed, dark-eyed women sat talking with each other in bejeweled chairs next to the king’s seat. One wore red. One wore blue. When they noticed everyone’s attention on them, they stopped chattering and waved to us, calling out pleasant greetings.
Caulder turned back from them, an affectionate smile lingering on his lips, before he prattled on about…something. But I couldn’t pry my attention from the two sisters, where my one true love sat, swollen with pregnancy.
