One True Love

  “Overcompensating much?” I said, nudging Allera with a snicker.

  “Hush,” she chastised, smacking my knee lightly, even though a smile of agreement twinkled in her eyes. “I think it’s simply magnificent.”

  I shrugged, refusing to rain any kind of verbal praise on the place.

  Before I could find a flaw to critique, a deep resounding cadence pounded from the drum tower, swiftly followed by the chorus of trumpets, performing a familiar melody.

  “Oh,” Allera said, brightening with pleasure. “Oh! They’re playing High Cliff’s anthem to greet us. What a lovely welcome.” She turned to me. “I’m liking Donnelly already.”

  I rolled my eyes but, for her, refused to say what I was really thinking, like this was too pleasant to be trusted. We were probably only being led into a trap where they either killed us as soon as we entered the gate or threw us in their dungeon before demanding some kind of reward from Father for our return.

  Tensing as the wheels under us rolled onto the drawbridge, filling the carriage with a different tone—a more ominous timbre—I glanced warily out the window, not liking how trapped I felt. This would be the perfect place for them to launch their attack.

  When my gaze caught on the barbican we were about to pass through, however, the guards inside it eyed us curiously from both sides, a few even waving with wide, cheerful, goofy grins.

  I frowned and sat back in my seat. Not very daunting, were they? That was honestly no way to receive foreigners. It made the soldier in me mutter until I actually wanted a crack at training these idiots, teach them the proper way to look strong and intimidating to newcomers from distant lands.

  Once we cleared the gatehouse and entered a lower bailey, a bald man in brown friar robes rushed toward the side of the carriage, hollering, and immediately making me reach for my sword, until he added, “Welcome, my lady,” as he jogged a few steps along with us so he could get a look at my sister and wave.

  I growled deep in my throat, ready to tell the fool to get back before I ripped his spine out through his asshole.

  Seriously, what was wrong with these people? They should distrust us just as much as I distrusted them.

  But Allera set a hand on my wrist, stopping me before I could skewer the friar through. Smiling graciously, she waved back to the robed moron. “Thank you, kind sir. Your greeting is most appreciated.”

  Pfft. Her freaking kind bleeding heart was going to get us killed someday.

  As our caravan left the friar behind, I shook my head, frowning. What a peculiar place. I couldn’t decide if the entire kingdom was just that naïve or if all this pleasantry was part of the grand trap they were about to spring on us.

  Allera sent me a warning glance. “Open-minded, remember?”

  Making a face, I clutched the sword at my side and nodded before cracking my neck from one side to the other. Open-minded. Sure. Until they tried to kill us, anyway.

  We came to the gateway that led into the middle bailey, and there, we were instructed by the guards to leave the carriage because we were to separate ourselves from the servants we’d brought with us and walk the rest of the way on foot.

  I opened the door and glanced around for danger. Unable to spot any, I reluctantly folded down the steps and hopped to the ground before managing to somehow angle my body so I could assist Allera on her descent and not turn my back to a single guard.

  A dignitary whose bangs on his blond hair were clipped far too short stepped forward, bearing a scroll under one arm. My return scowl seemed to disconcert him, making him shy a step back. After fumbling to unroll the scroll with shaking hands, he read us the greeting, then let us know he would lead us to the Throne Room where King Caulder and his brother Prince Brentley were waiting to receive us.

  Allera was all smiles and patient nods, thanking the man. I stood stonily at her elbow until we set off after Short Bangs. Wrapping both hands around the front buckle of my sword belt, I strode beside her, back rigid and gaze alert, as I took in the beauty of the palace.

  Everything here seemed new and clean. Spotlessly perfect, in fact. I couldn’t find a flaw anywhere in all its excellence. Which made me itch.

  Literally.

  I shook my head at the insistent sensation that quite abruptly wouldn’t leave me, and I scratched my temple heartily.

  Didn’t help.

  When I kept scratching it, Allera shifted closer to me and hissed from the side of her mouth, “What the devil are you doing? Stop that. You’re going to make our entire clan look like deranged lunatics by the way you keep fondling your eye.”

  “I can’t help it.” My fingernails raked relentlessly over the spot on the side of my left eye, unable to make the skin stop prickling. “My mark’s itching like a bastard.”

  “Well, you know what that means, don’t you?” She sounded irritated. “And I said stop scratching it already. People are staring.”

  In front of us, Short Bangs glanced back curiously. Offering him a tight smile, I dropped my hand back to my belt, and he faced forward again. My smile instantly morphed into a glare, which I shot Allera’s way.

  How was it that she still talked down to me as if I were a child? I’d led battles, controlled my own fleet of ships, bedded some of the most beautiful, exotic women in three realms, and gotten the king of Lowden—an evil dictator infused with dark magic—to kneel before me because of my intimidating presence after my army had defeated his. Yet Allera wiped all that prestige away with a single, degrading glance.

  Older sisters could suck the man right out of a fellow, I swear.

  “What does it mean, oh wise one?” I mocked moodily, winking one eye so it would wrinkle that cheek in an effort to alleviate the sensation without actually touching it. That didn’t help either, dammit. “That I’m allergic to the kingdom of Donnelly? I could’ve told you that.”

  I glanced around at the servants who’d stopped working to watch us pass. Even they looked clean and well-clothed. It was just plain weird. And suspicious. Could one kingdom really have this much wealth and good standing with their peasants and be so goddamn welcoming?

  “No, you nimrod,” Allera sighed and shook her head. “It means your one true love is near.”

  Forgetting about the peculiarity of my surroundings, I stopped walking and swung around to gape at my sister incredulously.

  “The hell you say.”

  Chapter 2

  Urban

  “Shh! Don’t stop walking!” Allera backtracked to grab my arm and manually drag me along, earning us another worried glance from the short-banged dignitary. “Do you want them to think we’re having second thoughts about this marriage alliance?”

  “I don’t give a fuck what they think.” Without lowering my voice, I continued to scowl at her. In front of us, Short Bangs let out a shocked gasp. “And I’m certainly not bound to one of them. You’re quite mistaken.”

  I snorted and shook my head over the mere idea.

  Bound to a Donnellean?

  Bull. Shit.

  Except a deep fear unfurled inside me. A part of me believed. A person simply couldn’t come from High Cliff and not believe in the signs from their mark, warning them of their mate’s proximity. My one true love must be near. But to me, nothing could be more frightening than becoming bound to anyone from a kingdom I still adamantly thought of as them.

  The tingling grew worse.

  I muttered a curse under my breath. Dammit. This couldn’t be happening.

  Was my one true love really, honestly here? In Donnelly? Donnelly of all fucking places?

  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.

  “Oh!” Allera brightened as if a delightful
notion had just struck her. “What if she’s the king’s younger sister? Princess Nicolette is unmarried, you know, and rumored to be a great beauty. Wouldn’t it be just grand if she were your one true love, and you could just marry her to align our kingdoms? Then I wouldn’t have to bind myself to her brother.”

  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.”

  “I’m not,” I snapped, dropping my hand from my throat. My fingers had been a good eight inches away from the goddamn 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.

  “Fuck me, she’s here,” I whispered desperately. “She’s in here. Somewhere. Allera…”

  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?

  “Just keep yourself together,” Allera instructed, trying to talk me through my anxiety from the side of her mouth as she kept looking straight ahead. “Whenever you see her, don’t react. I’m serious. Whatever you do… Do not react. Do you understand me? Not even the twitch of a muscle. We’ll figure this out after our meeting with the king and his brother. Everything will be fine.”

  I gaped at her as if she were insane, because fine? How the hell was this fine? I was about to meet my soul mate. But the paleness of Allera’s features caused me to remember she was also about to meet a complete stranger she was going to marry and share a bed with and have children with, and kiss and… Well, partake in many intimacies with. And she didn’t even have her mark any longer to assure her it would be a good match. Her mark had faded when her one true love had died nearly a year before.

  I suddenly wished maybe my one true love was this sister of the king after all—Nicolette or whatever her name was—so I could spare Allera from her sacrifice. I mean, shit, if I were going to be bound to a Donnellean, it might as well be for a good cause, right?

  Ah fuck, I was bound to a fucking Donnellean. How was this happening? I wasn’t ready.

  Actually, I wasn’t prepared to tie myself to any woman, no matter where she lived. I knew I was supposed to put faith in the mark and who it paired me to, but… Why now? There were too many changes happening at once. Why would fate fuck me over like this? I needed a moment to breathe and just… Deal with it all.

  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.

  The awareness of her spiraled through my nervous system, sparking unexpected spurts of electrical tingling here and there until, fuck… It seemed to throb hot and heavy straight out the end of my cock. I swallowed back a moan, and my eyes momentarily crossed.

  But what the hell?

  I swear, I was a split second from coming in my damn trousers.

  Forgetting all anxiety about this unexpected turn of events and how much I wanted to resist the draw, I started to grow impatient. Needy. And I needed… I just needed to… This made no sense, but I swear I only needed…her.

  She alone could abate this restless heat climbing from my soul and escaping through my pores.

  I told myself not to eagerly scan the room like a randy fool, but the urges inside me were strong and insistent, and they just kept growing. I had to see her.

  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 t
he same open, amiable greeting he’d given my sister.

  I nodded, or at least I hope I nodded in greeting, but I couldn’t focus on him. She was looking at me. My one true love. I could feel her studying me, weighing my appearance.

  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.