Princess Claimed, page 7
part #3.10 of Ruthless Warlords Series
She could barely muster the energy to move, much less get out of the tub.
The whole bath indulgence felt outlandish, like something she’d only dreamed of doing before. But she was a princess. Such frivolity should have been an every-rotation occurrence, right?
Maybe it had just been a while. Perhaps because of whatever danger hunted her. Indulgent bath time wasn’t likely an option when you were on the run.
But with Pavel near, she felt safe.
And clean. Well, dirty, too, but in the best of ways. She loved being governed by her outlaw.
She might not have her memories, but she was making new ones. Exquisite ones. Happy ones. Ones that felt right. Honest. Real.
She didn’t know who’d she’d been or what she’d been up to when the Destiny exploded, but she did know that plummeting into her outlaw’s arms—falling into him, and for him—was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
But could she say the same for him?
He hadn’t bitten her and made his claim complete and, while she suspected he’d held off out of respect for her and her hesitation, a small part of her feared he also had his own reasons for refraining.
She shifted in the bath, suddenly not so content. Water lapped against her skin and stirred another memory: rain . . . falling against her skin. The laughter of others dancing in the downpour and the scolding of several older female voices echoed through her mind.
Suddenly, she could see her own dirty feet trouncing through the mud and splashing in puddles. Feel the soaked, rough garments clinging to her skin.
A small hand tugged at the hem of her gray shift. Then, a flash of adoring, golden eyes shadowed by worry. Darla. Her braided, silver hair darkened to metal gray in the rain, her uniform similar. “It’s always more fun when you’re here, Ari.”
She winked. “I love it too. I—”
“Come inside this moment. All of you.” A firm, disdainful voice sounded from the old building just beyond. “This is most unseemly. Not at all proper behavior. You were taught better.”
“Maybe so, but thanks to the leaks, it’s as wet in there as it is out here,” she called back, neither intimated nor deterred.
The voice might be sharp, but she knew after nearly two decades of interactions that the heart beneath was kind—and unable to curb her wildness, despite the thrashings and threats of expulsion. Plus, she’d been kicked out long ago. Now, she returned of her own free will to visit and give back. And occasionally stir up trouble.
“At least this way, we have some fun,” she continued. “They need this. We all do.”
A cheer sounded, the other rebels encouraged by her challenge.
“Hmph. Always trouble. Always have been. Always will be.” But there was as much affection in Sister Lark’s pronouncement as exasperation. And in the next heartbeat, the displeased voice receded.
And the laughter —so rare, so needed—continued. As did the rain.
The sister was right. She was trouble. Always had been. Always would be, especially when it came to those she adored.
“I wish you could stay forever.” Darla reached for her hand.
She grabbed hold, threading their fingers together, smiling as she spun them both. The weight of her responsibilities thickened her throat and made her voice huskier than usual. “I’ll come back—and then you’ll be able to have real running water all the time, not just when it rains. And patches on the roof. A real home.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Determination rang through every cell as she stared down at the hopeful, little face staring up at her.
She would succeed. Be who they needed her to be. Do what needed to be done. Failure wasn’t an option.
“And when I return, you’ll sleep in a real bed, and we’ll eat something besides darithian porridge for every meal. We’ll have dessert every rotation too—even if I have to sneak it to you behind Sister Lark’s back.”
Those golden eyes went wide. “You’d do that. Ari? You really are fearless.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Not fearless, but for you? Determined.”
The small hand squeezed her own. “You promise?”
“I promise. That jewel will give us the home we need.”
She tried to see more, know more, but the harder she tried, the more the recollection blurred at the edges. Until Darla and the press of her small, wet palm and the rain faded away altogether, evaporating like vapor, leaving behind nothing but the haunting scent of something precious.
She’d been . . . happy. Hungry, yes. Restless and burdened by the weight of responsibility for those around her too, but she’d also been vital and alive and present in that rain-soaked moment. Not hiding away. Not shying away from who she was and what was expected of her.
Not like now.
“What’s wrong?” A dark blur appeared above.
“Pavel.” She sat up, sending water surging against the sides. “What did you find? Are the zalari and the shuttle okay?”
“I said to keep those eyes closed.”
She snapped them shut and hid a smile, his bossy care warming her again despite the troubling memory. Something about that prickly voice from her past reminded her of Pavel. Especially when she knew it stemmed from concern.
Someone had cared for her once. Just not enough to keep her.
She wondered if it would be the same with Pavel in the end. He hadn’t bitten her after all . . .
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just remembered something.” A dull throbbing bloomed at her temples.
There was the sound of knees hitting the floor. Then, a gentle fingertip tilted her chin up. “Tell me.”
Soothed by his scent and his touch, she did as he demanded, doing her best to make the impressions into some kind of sensible narrative, but there was so little. No facts, only sensory intangibles, images, and feelings.
He was silent once she finished.
“It’s hard to make sense of.” She filled the quiet. “But what kind of princess stomps in the mud? Wears rags? Argues with sisters? And what did I promise Darla?”
The steady stroke of his hands across her brow never faltered. “I don’t know. Until the memories return on their own, there’s no point worrying yourself or straining to remember. It will only make your head hurt more—and I don’t want you doing anything that will make you feel worse. You got me?”
She sighed. She appreciated his care, but she sensed the tension inside him coiling tighter with every word she spoke.
He was afraid of her past too.
But until she remembered, he was right. There was nothing she could do. Plus, she had promised herself she would behave so that Pavel wouldn’t regret keeping her.
“I got you,” she conceded at last.
“Good.” There was the slightest of pauses. “You missed a spot.”
There was a rustle of clothes, a loud splash, and a rise in the water around her. Then hot steel at her back as her Alpha slid her forward and folded himself into the bath behind her.
She shivered and gave a contented sigh, sinking back against his broad chest. Despite her worries, having him beside her made everything better.
“Let me.” He took the washcloth from her. The press of thick thighs on either side of hers anchored her in place. Otherwise, she might have floated away on a cloud of contentment.
Without her sight, every other sense was heightened, every sensation vivid, especially that of the chiseled, breathing wall of muscle at her back, the slow strokes of the washcloth along her arms—and the riot of feelings in her chest.
“I appreciate so much everything you’ve done for me. I dropped from nowhere, and you’ve been nothing but wonderful. I’d be lost without you.”
“You’d find your way no matter what. You’re formidable. Resourceful. Determined. I don’t need to know your past to see that.” His voice dipped to a low rasp. “But I will always be here to catch you, beautiful. No matter how far you fall or how lost you feel.”
His vow slid through her, as delicious a caress as all his others. Exactly what she needed.
She sensed she wasn’t always so wobbly when it came to her sense of self, but the confusion over her memories had left her off-kilter.
“Now, as for more practical concerns, the damage to the buildings from the debris isn’t too bad, and the zalaris are fine.” He shifted to no-nonsense considerations with an ease that amused her. “I hid what wreckage I could find and cobbled together a work-around with the security system near the property, so that will help to keep out unwanted guests, but it’s not foolproof. If someone’s looking hard enough, they’ll notice the aerial crash marks and realize they’re significant enough to warrant an investigation.” He dragged the washcloth across her shoulder, leaving a warm, soothing trail in his wake. “But we’ll be moving on soon, so we won’t have to worry about it long.”
She braced herself. “Pavel—”
“There was also a crack in one of the shuttle wings care of the fallen wreckage. I patched it, but it will require a second seal before it’s safe to fly. I’ll put on the second coat as soon as this first round dries. It should be good by tomorrow.”
He was good with his hands—no surprise—and no stranger to hard work. Another tidbit about him she found fascinating. But then again, everything about him drew her. “That’s amazing, and you’re clearly very handy, but—”
“We’ll need to make one stop before we get gone. I need to tell my king and my business partner face-to-face that I’m leaving.”
“Pavel.” She sat up. Or tried to. “You need to let me speak.”
He held tight, keeping her nestled against his chest, his sigh low and long as if he knew what she was thinking. “We can’t stay. They’ll come for you. I know you remember promising this little omega something, but you have no idea how long ago it happened or what you promised.”
Turns out, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking and, trouble or not, she couldn’t keep the words in. “I can’t just desert Darla. From the bits and pieces of my past I have been able to recall, I know I’m supposed to do something with that jewel. I can’t just ignore that. Much as I wish I could.”
He held her tighter. “I understand. But you can remember from wherever we are. So, if those memories do return and you have unfulfilled promises, as long as they’re not so some spoiled Alpha prince intent on taking you from me, I’ll help you keep them.”
She sat up straight. “You will?”
“Of course.” Pavel glided the washcloth over her shoulder, following it up with the press of his lips against the same area.
Her skin tingled from his kiss as relief swept through her. I’ve been responsible on my own for so long. Finally, maybe, I’ve found someone to stand by my side.
The thought was another echo of her past, a fragment of knowledge without the facts behind it.
“Now, enough worrying.” Command deepened his tone. “This bath is about relaxing.”
It wasn’t even a subtle effort to change the subject, but she shivered anyway, need sparking low in her belly as he dragged the washcloth over the sensitive tips of her breasts.
“Do you like the bathtub? I’ll build you one at our next place.” He seemed determined to avoid a confrontation—and make her mindless with pleasure. Worse, it appeared to be working. “It was easy enough. I dug a pipeline from the closest hot spring sinkhole to the compound, built a filtration device, and now there’s hot water any time—and lots of it. I’ll make our next tub even bigger.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “You’ll want for nothing, gorgeous, you’ll see.”
Did he think that was any kind of factor in why she was reluctant to go with him? She opened her mouth to ask, but he was already talking.
“That’s actually how I found the zalari den the first time.” His deep voice vibrated through her as his hand made languid passes with the washcloth across her collarbone. “They’re a bit standoffish and guarded, but once they realized I wasn’t going to disturb their routine too much—they let me do my thing while they did theirs.”
“They sound adorable. I can’t wait to see one. But with just them for company, did you ever get lonely living out so far from everyone else?”
“Lonely? No.” The washcloth stilled against her skin. “I don’t like crowds, and I don’t like complications. All others do is make things more difficult.”
The memory of Darla’s small palm sliding against hers whispered through her. “But being with others can be nice too.”
“Nice?” Again, he scoffed. “I’ve had enough of that kind of nice to last a lifetime.”
Something twisted inside her chest. She could feel his pain as if it was her own, a hot fist squeezing from the inside out.
And suddenly, she was wondering if it wasn’t just her past, but Pavel’s too, that could be a potential problem.
“What happened to you, Pavel?”
There was the faintest of pauses. “Nothing good.”
Her heart beat faster. She wanted to care for him as he did for her. “You said before that you were a soldier.”
“Yes. A long time ago.”
“And you were an inmate too.”
“While those memories are as fresh and ugly as if I lived them yesterday.”
The anguish in his voice made her ache. “Will you tell me about it?”
“I’m a lot happier now with what I do and who I am.” It was an obvious deflection.
“That’s wonderful, but—”
“The past is the past. Neither of us needs to dwell on it.”
Was that true? Maybe he was right. After learning she was a princess, she wasn’t too excited for all her memories to return. She was definitely fearful of what kind of complications hers would bring and what she might discover about herself.
But something in her gut was also telling her they’d never truly survive what was coming unless they faced the past, Pavel’s included.
“I understand your reluctance,” she admitted. “We just met, after all. But I hope some rotation you’ll feel comfortable enough to share more of your history with me.”
“It’s not a happy story.”
“And what? You think I can’t handle that?” She kept her face turned from his, but there was no hiding the betraying quiver in her voice. “That Princess Ariana of the V’rali”— even saying it felt wrong—“expects only fairytales or airbrushed, glittering stories to match her castle?”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I’d like to be able to give you more than a sad tale and a fucked-up past.”
She swiveled toward the sound of his voice, water sloshing between them and battering against the sides. “I only want you to give me you. All of you.” She clasped her hands on either side of his square jaw, absorbing the warmth and strength against her fingertips. “I might not recall most of my past, but I know I’ve wished to share not just my laughter, but my worries and pain, my excitement and my burdens, with someone else—and know I could count on them to do the same.”
“Angel.” His hands covered hers.
“I know this is all happening way too fast, but I also know you are the one I’ve been waiting for—and that I don’t want just the glossy, pretty parts of you, I want everything. I want to know all the jagged pieces that make my fierce outlaw who he is—if only you’ll trust me enough to let me in.” And maybe, just maybe, accept me as I am too, trouble and all.
He was silent so long, she feared she’d pushed too fast. She opened her mouth to tell him she was sorry and could be patient, that she wasn’t trying to be difficult, but he got there first.
“Whatever my fated mate wants, she gets.” There was tension in his voice, but teasing too. Adoration. Tenderness. He might be hard and fierce—and used to being that way with everyone—but he was making an exception for her.
Hope soared through her.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” He lifted her, repositioning her so that she was once again cuddled tight against his chest, his strong arm wrapped around her, his chin resting on top of her head—as if she was suddenly the one anchoring him in place.
She could only hope that whoever she’d once been, she was worthy enough to be his mooring now.
10
ARI
She rested her hands on his sinewy forearms and held fast.
“I grew up without much.” His tone was casual, but his body coiled tight beneath her. “My mother was one of the omega whores who traveled with the Approved Sector army. I never knew my sire, but he was likely one of the soldier killed in combat. My mother died young during one of her numerous pregnancies—a casualty of a quieter, more brutal war.”
He was an orphan, abandoned by those who should have cared for him. Her heart contracted. Somehow that sounded familiar. “That must have been hard.”
He brushed his chin across the top of her head once more, a sweet gesture that made her chest clench tighter. “The army was all I knew. They fed me, clothed me, and told me what to do and where to sign up. I was too young and dumb to know better. Plus, I liked my friends, the camaraderie.” He paused. “We were a tight crew. We worked hard and played harder. They . . . they became my family.”
He might be far more guarded now, but she could easily imagine others looking up to him, seeking him out for advice and friendship. He just had that way about him.
“I was a good fighter and strategist.” His words confirmed her thinking. “Without really trying, I moved up in rank until I was surprised to find myself in charge of my own team. Sure, I grumbled about it, but we had each other’s backs—and I took care of the new recruits too. This one kid, Willer, wasn’t the brightest of soldiers, but he was under my command, and I was determined to keep him alive, just like the rest.”
She wasn’t surprised by the strain of protectiveness in him even then. She’d sensed it came naturally. It was one of the many reasons she felt so safe with him.
“Things were fine for a time.” An ominous thread of pain wove through his words. “Then, the king I served was killed, his son accused of killing him. The late king’s brother, Septimus, stepped in to fill the void and serve as ruler. I had never paid much attention to palace intrigue. I did my job and kept my head down. But even a gutter worm like me could scent the rot around Septimus. And I wasn’t the only one. Armed rebellions began immediately.”
