Pregnant Runaway Mate of the Alpha Prince, page 8
part #37 of Forbidden Alpha Kings Series
Although Prince Harris may notice if she didn’t remember what happened in the forest, she could play coy as well as the best of them. She might not be discovered.
“Oh my god, it really is the heel,” he marveled, turning it in his hands. “Why did you run like that?”
Zara looked down demurely, and shook her head. “I was overwhelmed by the prince’s attention. I remembered when the clock struck three that it was my duty to my family to work in the bakery, so I rushed back so I could do that.”
She was stealing every moment of my life.
All I could do was play along with it.
“That’s incredible dedication,” he nodded. “I’m glad you came forward. If you’ll give me an hour, at the most, I’ll go inform the prince and see how quickly he can return. He’s eager to see you again.”
These words made my heart beat faster, and I struggled to keep tears from filling my eyes. It was me Harris was looking for.
What was I doing?
“Why can’t we come with you? It may be easier for us to simply go to the castle,” Vivian said in a fake-kind voice that came off as too sweet. I hated the sound of it.
“No, he wants to see her to confirm she’s the right woman before he introduces her to the King and Queen,” he explained.
This was moving so quickly.
“That makes a lot of sense, of course,” Vivian agreed. “We’ll be here when you fetch him.”
The guard vanished through the door, and I had to let go of a breath I’d held deep in my chest. This was the worst thing I’d ever experienced. Vivian had hit me, slapped me, burned me, and yet knowing Harris was going to be here, and I could do nothing about it was somehow worse.
“You need to go upstairs,” Vivian prodded me. “I can’t have you confusing things. It will be too much if he sees you, and it spurs a memory.”
“I’ll behave.”
“No, go up there, now,” she shoved me.
Not wanting to be beaten, I quickly went upstairs and into my bedroom. I wasn’t even going to get to see Harris. He would be in my home, close enough to hold and find his scent, and I would be stuck in the same room I’d been in every night for my entire life.
Great.
I wanted to scream and yell, to run down and throw myself in the street where she couldn’t lay hands on me because people would be able to see it. I wanted out.
There was nothing I could do.
I agreed to this.
Sitting on my bed, I watched as the time slipped by. I felt frozen. Petrified. Instead of an hour, only twenty minutes passed before I heard a knock at the front door.
I could smell him.
He was like coffee, something soothing and warm. I wanted to start every day with him. I was aching.
Opening my bedroom door, I listened as they started to speak.
Zara raised her voice slightly, almost mimicking my tone. I didn’t know she was going to do that. She spent her entire life beating me down into the ground with her mother, and now she was doing everything she could to become me.
Moving slowly, I listened as she recalled dancing with him and mentioned that she’d accidentally left her gloves on the balcony.
I did that.
It was me.
I could hear some trepidation in his voice, which became more evident when he stopped her and asked her to show him her neck. She did, and he didn’t say anything. There was a long silence, and then Harris spoke again.
“Can you shift for me?”
“What?” Zara’s voice was equal parts shocked and nervous. “I don’t want to undress here.”
“You can step out if you’d like to, but come back like the white wolf I met that night.”
“I’ve dyed my fur,” she said quickly. “It’s brown now, but I’m still me. Don’t you remember me?”
I stepped closer, listening intently.
“Is there anyone else in the home?” Harris asked.
My heart sped, and I froze in my spot.
“There isn’t,” Vivian answered quickly.
Another man spoke, and I recognized his voice as that of the guard who had visited earlier. “I’m not sure that’s true. There was another young woman here when I was first here.”
“She was the daughter of the man who used to own the bakery. She’s nobody, a latent shifter who now works as our live-in servant.”
“A latent shifter?” There was confusion in Harris’s voice. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she is. But my daughter Zara is the woman you met that night. She was so nervous about getting home late that she didn’t even speak to me as she ran past me at the gate,” Vivian said.
Harris didn’t answer for a moment, and then I could hear him approaching the stairs.
He wasn’t leaving.
He was coming my way.
Rushing into my room, I quickly fixed my face and hair, annoyed that the yellow bruise was still visible through my makeup.
“Prince Harris has asked that everyone in the home come down. Stop being rude, child,” Vivian shouted up the stairs. There was a terrified desperation in her voice. I’d never heard that before.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my room and started down the stairs.
12
Harris
I could smell her scent as we stopped in front of the bakery.
She was real.
It wasn’t just the smell of the food. I was an idiot who had missed such an important clue. Stepping out of the car, I tried to maintain my composure, but all I could think about was breaking down the door and running up to her.
The bakery itself had a ‘closed for the day’ sign in the window, but Buck led me to the front door of the connected home instead. I was going to get to see her.
A severe, tall, thin woman answered the door as Buck knocked.
“Welcome, please come in. I’m glad you were able to join us so quickly.”
She guided us in, and I was blown away by how much ginger and cinnamon I could smell. It was like she’d touched and cleaned every last part of the home, gracing it with her energy.
I needed to see her.
“This is my daughter Zara. I found the shoe in her room, and she came clean to me about the entire ball last night.”
The woman she placed before me was not the one I danced with.
I could tell she was a stranger instantly.
Instead of those beautiful, big, dark brown eyes, I’d stared into for hours that day, this woman’s eyes were pale and almost colorless. Her hair was just as pale, instead of the natural mousy brown I’d brushed aside to kiss my dance partner.
I almost didn’t realize she was talking and had to focus.
I was being lied to.
“You had a mark here,” I motioned. “Can you show me your neck?”
Zara looked confused momentarily, glancing over to her mother before pulling her shirt aside to show her neck. “I burned myself with the hair curler that night, it’s healed now,” she lied.
My dance partner’s hair was straight that night.
I nodded but wanted to be sure.
The house smelled precisely like her, and she had the shoe. How would this be possible otherwise?
What if it was her, and I was making an ass of myself?
There was one way to be sure.
“Can you shift for me?”
“What?” The young woman’s face turned bright red instantly. She looked back at her mother for reassurance. “I don’t want to undress here.”
To her credit, the woman I danced with that night said something similar.
What if this was her, and I was just wrong?
“You can step out if you’d like to, but come back like the white wolf I met that night.”
“I’ve dyed my fur,” she spat out before I could finish speaking. “It’s brown now, but I’m still me. Don’t you remember me?”
It wasn’t her.
They were lying to me and hoping I wouldn’t notice.
What did they do, steal the shoe from the real woman and hope she’d never come forward?
I heard a creak upstairs and wondered for half a second if this was a setup I needed to be worried about. “Is there anyone else in the home?” I started walking toward the stairs.
“There isn’t,” the mother said as quickly as possible. She grabbed my arm, and I brushed her off.
Brock shot me a look, and I could tell he also felt like something was off. Whatever was happening here was wrong. “I’m not sure that’s true. There was another young woman here when I was first here,” he stated.
Another woman.
My white wolf might actually be here.
“She was the daughter of the man who used to own the bakery. She’s nobody, a latent shifter who now works as our live-in servant.”
“A latent shifter?” That couldn’t be right. Maybe it actually wasn’t her. My woman was able to shift. She was the most beautiful shifter I’d ever seen. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she is. But my daughter Zara is the woman you met that night. She was so nervous about getting home late that she didn’t even speak to me as she ran past me at the gate,” the woman was talking a million miles a minute, and my temper was building.
Stepping closer to the steps, I considered just climbing them to find out who was up there. What if it was my mate and she was hurt? What if these lunatics did something to her?
“Prince Harris has asked that everyone in the home come down. Stop being rude, child,” the mother shouted before I could go any further. She sounded legitimately worried, and I was glad that she was finally taking this seriously. “She’ll be right down, but I promise she’s just a servant.”
“How did you come to own the bakery?” Buck asked.
I glanced back at him, wondering where he was going with this.
The woman froze, her nerves were visible on her face, and she looked askance. “My late husband owned it.”
Wait a damn minute.
“So this girl you’re calling a servant is actually your daughter?”
“She was a feral child. We weren’t married for long before he passed.”
“She is your daughter,” I repeated.
“Only by marriage,” she shook her head.
“And this is how you honor that marriage,” I frowned.
“Nema is happy here. We don’t mistreat her or anything,” Zara said. I shot her a look of distaste, and she backed away.
Who the fuck were these people?
More importantly, she said the name was Nema. My mate was Nema.
The stairs creaked, and as she walked down, I could recognize her before I even saw her. It was her.
“My mate,” I greeted her.
“Welcome to our home,” Nema said softly as we finally made eye contact. Those beautiful dark brown eyes.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I replied.
Pink tinged her ears and cheeks, and I offered out my hand to her. She took it, and it was like we’d never been apart. Pulling her to me, I kissed Nema and knew that this was all I needed. She was everything to me.
The kiss was soft, almost chaste, and left me starving for more as we parted. I heard a gasp to my side and ignored it so I could focus on her instead.
“They said you can’t shift.”
She shook her head. “Just that night.”
“She can’t!” Vivian said angrily. She started approaching us, and grabbed Nema’s arm.
“Get your hands off of my mate,” I growled.
She dropped Nema’s arm like it was red hot.
This was clearly overwhelming for Nema, who backed away uncomfortably. “Are you alright?”
“A little overwhelmed,” she admitted. She reached out and squeezed my hand, and I wanted to pin her down there and show her how overwhelming it could be.
Vivian interjected again. “How can you even be sure you have the right woman? I know she stayed here all night, she was cleaning and went to work the next day.”
Nema swallowed deeply, and I couldn’t believe anyone could try to make me question if she was the right woman or not. Everything in my heart and mind knew it was her.
“Let us see your neck,” I requested.
Nema faltered, glancing over at her family. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, and she took a deep breath.
My mate loosened her scarf and tilted her neck, revealing the mark I’d left there almost a week before.
It was her.
The other women besides Nema gasped in shock, realizing what it was, but I didn’t care. I just needed her. “I’m needed at the castle, I’d like to show you around. I can have you back by curfew this time,” I teased.
She let out a soft laugh, and I was pleased at how beautiful the sound was as it poured from her lips.
“I would like to chaperone her,” Nema’s stepmother said.
I shot her a quick look of annoyance. “You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for theft. If you have any sense, you’ll let her have tomorrow off from the bakery,” I said. It was clear that the only person working it was her if every baked good smelled so much like her.
The woman opened her mouth to say something and then shut it back.
Taking Nema’s hand, I guided her out of her home and to the car. She couldn’t hold eye contact with me for long before getting shy, but I didn’t mind it. I could look at her forever if she’d let me.
“I still have some business here. I’ll be there soon after you,” Buck said without getting in the car. I nodded, glad to have her alone in the car with me.
“Back home,” I told the driver before I could let myself get too distracted.
The door closed behind us, and I couldn’t resist kissing her.
Nema kissed me back, sweet and soft, her lips like a balm after all this adventure’s stress. I finally had her. She was mine. The kiss deepened, and I cupped her face in my hand.
I had to behave myself, or I was going to have her undressed and on display, before we could even get the car back to my home.
Pulling away, I kissed her one more time just because I could.
She was right there.
“I’m so glad I found you, Nema,” I said softly.
Her face dropped from bliss into confused hurt, and she opened her mouth like she couldn’t decide what to say.
“What is it?”
“My name isn’t Nema,” she huffed out a soft laugh. “Is that what they told you?”
I winced, realizing I should have asked her again.
“Why did they call you that?”
“It’s short for nematode. The girls have been calling me that for fifteen years,” she sighed softly.
And I continued it by picking it up from them.
Of course.
“I’m so sorry,” I kissed her. “I should have known better.” We leaned our foreheads against each other, and all I wanted was this forever. “What is your name, then?”
“It’s Ella,” she murmured.
I nodded and watched as tears pricked in her eyes. Reaching between us, I brushed those tears away and kissed her reverently. She was everything. I couldn’t let her hurt like this.
“I’m so glad I found you, Ella,” I corrected what I’d said.
Her voice cracked into a soft laugh, and I kissed her again and again to try and push away the fear and hurt she’d obviously been through. We slid down on the car seat until she was on her back, and it reminded me of our night together.
At least now I could see her beautiful face while I kissed her.
Her hands bunched in the front of my shirt, holding me down above her as we kissed. Moving my hand from her cheek, I slid it down to where I marked her and felt the warm knot of a beautiful scar beneath my fingertips.
Ella moaned against my lips, and my brain went haywire. I needed her. I wasted so much time hoping she’d return to me, but now I didn’t have to hope anymore.
She was here.
I kissed her cheek and jaw, then returned to that bond mark and kissed her there, feeling like my entire body was buzzing with our connection. She squirmed beneath me, almost breathless from the sensation.
“You’re mine,” I stated.
“Yours,” she agreed without hesitation.
Kissing her slowly, hands roving over her body, I didn’t care that the city was just outside of the car or that the driver could definitely see what I was doing. All that mattered was that I finally had her in my hands.
I’d never let her go again.
13
Ella
I never thought I would return to the castle.
I definitely didn’t think it would be with my hand in his.
Harris helped me out of his car and took my hand as if we’d been doing this for years despite being almost strangers. It was only five in the afternoon, and I wasn’t supposed to be done working yet.
In my daily life I’d be leaving the bakery and working inside the house around then. Every evening was filled with cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, texting Beth, or sneaking off to visit Hazel when I could.
Instead, I was being guided by hand into the castle that always felt unreachable my entire childhood.
Harris squeezed my hand, and I tried to keep my nerves calm. There was so much new information being thrown at me, and I didn’t want to overwhelm myself.
“Can I take you on a tour?” Harris asked.
I nodded, eager to see more of his home, and stayed close to him. “This entrance was only added on maybe eighty years ago,” he said. “It was built originally to house people when an avalanche took out some houses on the western border.”
“I didn’t know that,” I admitted.
“They’ve definitely updated it since then, but you can still see some of the grooves from the makeshift beds on the floors,” he explained. We walked through the entrance and into another hallway until he paused at a large mural. “This is what the clan’s layout looked like a couple hundred years ago.”
“My home’s lot wasn’t even included,” I gasped as I mapped it out.
“It’s grown,” he smiled.
A small gaggle of kids followed a woman through the hall, and she apologetically waved at the two of us. “Sorry, they needed to get some exercise in. We’re just walking through.”
“Oh my god, it really is the heel,” he marveled, turning it in his hands. “Why did you run like that?”
Zara looked down demurely, and shook her head. “I was overwhelmed by the prince’s attention. I remembered when the clock struck three that it was my duty to my family to work in the bakery, so I rushed back so I could do that.”
She was stealing every moment of my life.
All I could do was play along with it.
“That’s incredible dedication,” he nodded. “I’m glad you came forward. If you’ll give me an hour, at the most, I’ll go inform the prince and see how quickly he can return. He’s eager to see you again.”
These words made my heart beat faster, and I struggled to keep tears from filling my eyes. It was me Harris was looking for.
What was I doing?
“Why can’t we come with you? It may be easier for us to simply go to the castle,” Vivian said in a fake-kind voice that came off as too sweet. I hated the sound of it.
“No, he wants to see her to confirm she’s the right woman before he introduces her to the King and Queen,” he explained.
This was moving so quickly.
“That makes a lot of sense, of course,” Vivian agreed. “We’ll be here when you fetch him.”
The guard vanished through the door, and I had to let go of a breath I’d held deep in my chest. This was the worst thing I’d ever experienced. Vivian had hit me, slapped me, burned me, and yet knowing Harris was going to be here, and I could do nothing about it was somehow worse.
“You need to go upstairs,” Vivian prodded me. “I can’t have you confusing things. It will be too much if he sees you, and it spurs a memory.”
“I’ll behave.”
“No, go up there, now,” she shoved me.
Not wanting to be beaten, I quickly went upstairs and into my bedroom. I wasn’t even going to get to see Harris. He would be in my home, close enough to hold and find his scent, and I would be stuck in the same room I’d been in every night for my entire life.
Great.
I wanted to scream and yell, to run down and throw myself in the street where she couldn’t lay hands on me because people would be able to see it. I wanted out.
There was nothing I could do.
I agreed to this.
Sitting on my bed, I watched as the time slipped by. I felt frozen. Petrified. Instead of an hour, only twenty minutes passed before I heard a knock at the front door.
I could smell him.
He was like coffee, something soothing and warm. I wanted to start every day with him. I was aching.
Opening my bedroom door, I listened as they started to speak.
Zara raised her voice slightly, almost mimicking my tone. I didn’t know she was going to do that. She spent her entire life beating me down into the ground with her mother, and now she was doing everything she could to become me.
Moving slowly, I listened as she recalled dancing with him and mentioned that she’d accidentally left her gloves on the balcony.
I did that.
It was me.
I could hear some trepidation in his voice, which became more evident when he stopped her and asked her to show him her neck. She did, and he didn’t say anything. There was a long silence, and then Harris spoke again.
“Can you shift for me?”
“What?” Zara’s voice was equal parts shocked and nervous. “I don’t want to undress here.”
“You can step out if you’d like to, but come back like the white wolf I met that night.”
“I’ve dyed my fur,” she said quickly. “It’s brown now, but I’m still me. Don’t you remember me?”
I stepped closer, listening intently.
“Is there anyone else in the home?” Harris asked.
My heart sped, and I froze in my spot.
“There isn’t,” Vivian answered quickly.
Another man spoke, and I recognized his voice as that of the guard who had visited earlier. “I’m not sure that’s true. There was another young woman here when I was first here.”
“She was the daughter of the man who used to own the bakery. She’s nobody, a latent shifter who now works as our live-in servant.”
“A latent shifter?” There was confusion in Harris’s voice. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she is. But my daughter Zara is the woman you met that night. She was so nervous about getting home late that she didn’t even speak to me as she ran past me at the gate,” Vivian said.
Harris didn’t answer for a moment, and then I could hear him approaching the stairs.
He wasn’t leaving.
He was coming my way.
Rushing into my room, I quickly fixed my face and hair, annoyed that the yellow bruise was still visible through my makeup.
“Prince Harris has asked that everyone in the home come down. Stop being rude, child,” Vivian shouted up the stairs. There was a terrified desperation in her voice. I’d never heard that before.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my room and started down the stairs.
12
Harris
I could smell her scent as we stopped in front of the bakery.
She was real.
It wasn’t just the smell of the food. I was an idiot who had missed such an important clue. Stepping out of the car, I tried to maintain my composure, but all I could think about was breaking down the door and running up to her.
The bakery itself had a ‘closed for the day’ sign in the window, but Buck led me to the front door of the connected home instead. I was going to get to see her.
A severe, tall, thin woman answered the door as Buck knocked.
“Welcome, please come in. I’m glad you were able to join us so quickly.”
She guided us in, and I was blown away by how much ginger and cinnamon I could smell. It was like she’d touched and cleaned every last part of the home, gracing it with her energy.
I needed to see her.
“This is my daughter Zara. I found the shoe in her room, and she came clean to me about the entire ball last night.”
The woman she placed before me was not the one I danced with.
I could tell she was a stranger instantly.
Instead of those beautiful, big, dark brown eyes, I’d stared into for hours that day, this woman’s eyes were pale and almost colorless. Her hair was just as pale, instead of the natural mousy brown I’d brushed aside to kiss my dance partner.
I almost didn’t realize she was talking and had to focus.
I was being lied to.
“You had a mark here,” I motioned. “Can you show me your neck?”
Zara looked confused momentarily, glancing over to her mother before pulling her shirt aside to show her neck. “I burned myself with the hair curler that night, it’s healed now,” she lied.
My dance partner’s hair was straight that night.
I nodded but wanted to be sure.
The house smelled precisely like her, and she had the shoe. How would this be possible otherwise?
What if it was her, and I was making an ass of myself?
There was one way to be sure.
“Can you shift for me?”
“What?” The young woman’s face turned bright red instantly. She looked back at her mother for reassurance. “I don’t want to undress here.”
To her credit, the woman I danced with that night said something similar.
What if this was her, and I was just wrong?
“You can step out if you’d like to, but come back like the white wolf I met that night.”
“I’ve dyed my fur,” she spat out before I could finish speaking. “It’s brown now, but I’m still me. Don’t you remember me?”
It wasn’t her.
They were lying to me and hoping I wouldn’t notice.
What did they do, steal the shoe from the real woman and hope she’d never come forward?
I heard a creak upstairs and wondered for half a second if this was a setup I needed to be worried about. “Is there anyone else in the home?” I started walking toward the stairs.
“There isn’t,” the mother said as quickly as possible. She grabbed my arm, and I brushed her off.
Brock shot me a look, and I could tell he also felt like something was off. Whatever was happening here was wrong. “I’m not sure that’s true. There was another young woman here when I was first here,” he stated.
Another woman.
My white wolf might actually be here.
“She was the daughter of the man who used to own the bakery. She’s nobody, a latent shifter who now works as our live-in servant.”
“A latent shifter?” That couldn’t be right. Maybe it actually wasn’t her. My woman was able to shift. She was the most beautiful shifter I’d ever seen. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she is. But my daughter Zara is the woman you met that night. She was so nervous about getting home late that she didn’t even speak to me as she ran past me at the gate,” the woman was talking a million miles a minute, and my temper was building.
Stepping closer to the steps, I considered just climbing them to find out who was up there. What if it was my mate and she was hurt? What if these lunatics did something to her?
“Prince Harris has asked that everyone in the home come down. Stop being rude, child,” the mother shouted before I could go any further. She sounded legitimately worried, and I was glad that she was finally taking this seriously. “She’ll be right down, but I promise she’s just a servant.”
“How did you come to own the bakery?” Buck asked.
I glanced back at him, wondering where he was going with this.
The woman froze, her nerves were visible on her face, and she looked askance. “My late husband owned it.”
Wait a damn minute.
“So this girl you’re calling a servant is actually your daughter?”
“She was a feral child. We weren’t married for long before he passed.”
“She is your daughter,” I repeated.
“Only by marriage,” she shook her head.
“And this is how you honor that marriage,” I frowned.
“Nema is happy here. We don’t mistreat her or anything,” Zara said. I shot her a look of distaste, and she backed away.
Who the fuck were these people?
More importantly, she said the name was Nema. My mate was Nema.
The stairs creaked, and as she walked down, I could recognize her before I even saw her. It was her.
“My mate,” I greeted her.
“Welcome to our home,” Nema said softly as we finally made eye contact. Those beautiful dark brown eyes.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I replied.
Pink tinged her ears and cheeks, and I offered out my hand to her. She took it, and it was like we’d never been apart. Pulling her to me, I kissed Nema and knew that this was all I needed. She was everything to me.
The kiss was soft, almost chaste, and left me starving for more as we parted. I heard a gasp to my side and ignored it so I could focus on her instead.
“They said you can’t shift.”
She shook her head. “Just that night.”
“She can’t!” Vivian said angrily. She started approaching us, and grabbed Nema’s arm.
“Get your hands off of my mate,” I growled.
She dropped Nema’s arm like it was red hot.
This was clearly overwhelming for Nema, who backed away uncomfortably. “Are you alright?”
“A little overwhelmed,” she admitted. She reached out and squeezed my hand, and I wanted to pin her down there and show her how overwhelming it could be.
Vivian interjected again. “How can you even be sure you have the right woman? I know she stayed here all night, she was cleaning and went to work the next day.”
Nema swallowed deeply, and I couldn’t believe anyone could try to make me question if she was the right woman or not. Everything in my heart and mind knew it was her.
“Let us see your neck,” I requested.
Nema faltered, glancing over at her family. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, and she took a deep breath.
My mate loosened her scarf and tilted her neck, revealing the mark I’d left there almost a week before.
It was her.
The other women besides Nema gasped in shock, realizing what it was, but I didn’t care. I just needed her. “I’m needed at the castle, I’d like to show you around. I can have you back by curfew this time,” I teased.
She let out a soft laugh, and I was pleased at how beautiful the sound was as it poured from her lips.
“I would like to chaperone her,” Nema’s stepmother said.
I shot her a quick look of annoyance. “You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for theft. If you have any sense, you’ll let her have tomorrow off from the bakery,” I said. It was clear that the only person working it was her if every baked good smelled so much like her.
The woman opened her mouth to say something and then shut it back.
Taking Nema’s hand, I guided her out of her home and to the car. She couldn’t hold eye contact with me for long before getting shy, but I didn’t mind it. I could look at her forever if she’d let me.
“I still have some business here. I’ll be there soon after you,” Buck said without getting in the car. I nodded, glad to have her alone in the car with me.
“Back home,” I told the driver before I could let myself get too distracted.
The door closed behind us, and I couldn’t resist kissing her.
Nema kissed me back, sweet and soft, her lips like a balm after all this adventure’s stress. I finally had her. She was mine. The kiss deepened, and I cupped her face in my hand.
I had to behave myself, or I was going to have her undressed and on display, before we could even get the car back to my home.
Pulling away, I kissed her one more time just because I could.
She was right there.
“I’m so glad I found you, Nema,” I said softly.
Her face dropped from bliss into confused hurt, and she opened her mouth like she couldn’t decide what to say.
“What is it?”
“My name isn’t Nema,” she huffed out a soft laugh. “Is that what they told you?”
I winced, realizing I should have asked her again.
“Why did they call you that?”
“It’s short for nematode. The girls have been calling me that for fifteen years,” she sighed softly.
And I continued it by picking it up from them.
Of course.
“I’m so sorry,” I kissed her. “I should have known better.” We leaned our foreheads against each other, and all I wanted was this forever. “What is your name, then?”
“It’s Ella,” she murmured.
I nodded and watched as tears pricked in her eyes. Reaching between us, I brushed those tears away and kissed her reverently. She was everything. I couldn’t let her hurt like this.
“I’m so glad I found you, Ella,” I corrected what I’d said.
Her voice cracked into a soft laugh, and I kissed her again and again to try and push away the fear and hurt she’d obviously been through. We slid down on the car seat until she was on her back, and it reminded me of our night together.
At least now I could see her beautiful face while I kissed her.
Her hands bunched in the front of my shirt, holding me down above her as we kissed. Moving my hand from her cheek, I slid it down to where I marked her and felt the warm knot of a beautiful scar beneath my fingertips.
Ella moaned against my lips, and my brain went haywire. I needed her. I wasted so much time hoping she’d return to me, but now I didn’t have to hope anymore.
She was here.
I kissed her cheek and jaw, then returned to that bond mark and kissed her there, feeling like my entire body was buzzing with our connection. She squirmed beneath me, almost breathless from the sensation.
“You’re mine,” I stated.
“Yours,” she agreed without hesitation.
Kissing her slowly, hands roving over her body, I didn’t care that the city was just outside of the car or that the driver could definitely see what I was doing. All that mattered was that I finally had her in my hands.
I’d never let her go again.
13
Ella
I never thought I would return to the castle.
I definitely didn’t think it would be with my hand in his.
Harris helped me out of his car and took my hand as if we’d been doing this for years despite being almost strangers. It was only five in the afternoon, and I wasn’t supposed to be done working yet.
In my daily life I’d be leaving the bakery and working inside the house around then. Every evening was filled with cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, texting Beth, or sneaking off to visit Hazel when I could.
Instead, I was being guided by hand into the castle that always felt unreachable my entire childhood.
Harris squeezed my hand, and I tried to keep my nerves calm. There was so much new information being thrown at me, and I didn’t want to overwhelm myself.
“Can I take you on a tour?” Harris asked.
I nodded, eager to see more of his home, and stayed close to him. “This entrance was only added on maybe eighty years ago,” he said. “It was built originally to house people when an avalanche took out some houses on the western border.”
“I didn’t know that,” I admitted.
“They’ve definitely updated it since then, but you can still see some of the grooves from the makeshift beds on the floors,” he explained. We walked through the entrance and into another hallway until he paused at a large mural. “This is what the clan’s layout looked like a couple hundred years ago.”
“My home’s lot wasn’t even included,” I gasped as I mapped it out.
“It’s grown,” he smiled.
A small gaggle of kids followed a woman through the hall, and she apologetically waved at the two of us. “Sorry, they needed to get some exercise in. We’re just walking through.”
