Protected by the Prince

‘You don’t owe me anything. It was just a nightmare.’

‘I was selfish, sleeping with you. What if I’d hurt you? I should have let you sleep alone.’

‘It’s you I’m worried about.’ She hesitated, trying to summon an even tone and force away the chill that invaded at the idea of sleeping alone. ‘You have these dreams often?’

His silence answered for him.

‘You’re afraid you might lash out in your sleep?’

‘It’s too dangerous. I risked your safety.’

‘I told you, Alaric, I’m—’

‘OK. So you say. But you don’t know.’ His words tailed off and the desolation she heard cut to her heart. ‘Everything I touch turns to ashes. Everyone.’

Tamsin froze at the profound despair in his voice.

‘Tell me.’ She cuddled closer, her mind whirring while she tried to sound cool and detached.

‘Talking about it will help?’ Sarcasm threaded his voice. She ignored it, guessing he fought deep-seated pain any way he could.

‘Bottling it up is no solution.’ Look at the way she’d turned inwards, isolating herself rather than take the risk of being rejected. ‘Whatever the problem, it will fester if you don’t face it.’

‘Now you’re calling me a coward.’ There was a huff of amusement in his voice that made her smile sadly. Alaric was excellent at using humour and his killer charm to deflect attention from the inner man.

How had she not seen it before?

‘What have you got to fear? Unless you think I’ll do a kiss and tell interview?’

‘I can’t imagine anything less likely.’ He stroked her hair and Tamsin’s tension eased a little. She had his trust at least. That was a start.

Silence fell.

‘It’s not about me,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s the people I failed. That’s who I dream of.’ He sounded so stern, so judgemental, not like the Alaric she knew.

‘I can’t imagine you letting anyone down.’

His laugh was bitter. ‘Don’t you believe it. I was an unruly kid, always in trouble, a constant disappointment to my father. I heard often enough it was lucky I was just a second son. I didn’t have what it took to rule.’

Tamsin bit her tongue rather than blurt out that his father sounded like a brute. A man who hadn’t loved his wife, or, it seemed, his child. The more she heard the more she disliked.

‘Then he’d be surprised to see Ruvingia flourishing now.’

Alaric said nothing. She sensed the reference to his father had been a distraction.

‘Alaric? Tell me about your dreams.’

His chest rose beneath her like a wave cresting to shore. Tamsin clung grimly, willing him to share the source of his grief. It ate at him, destroying his peace.

At last he complied. ‘I see them all die,’ he whispered, ‘and I can’t save them.’

Tamsin’s blood chilled at his haunted tone. ‘Tell me.’

‘So you can absolve me?’ But his scepticism held anguish. Finally when she didn’t answer he explained.

As a career army officer he’d jumped at the chance a few years ago to put his skills to good use, volunteering as a peacekeeper overseas. No sooner had he signed on than his whole unit had followed him.

They were posted near an isolated village, protecting a wide area from insurgents. Short bouts of dangerous activity were interspersed with long quiet periods which allowed time to get to know the locals. One little fatherless boy in particular had hung around, fascinated by the foreigners and especially Alaric. From his tone it was clear Alaric had been fond of him too.

When a report came of trouble in an outlying zone Alaric responded immediately, taking men to investigate.

‘It was a ruse. But by the time we got there and discovered that it was too late.’ They’d returned to their base to discover the village had been attacked. Both soldiers and civilians had been wounded and some had died, the little boy among them.

‘He died in my arms.’ Alaric’s voice was hoarse. ‘I couldn’t save him.’ A sigh racked his body. ‘There were too many I couldn’t save.’

‘There’s nothing you could have done.’ Her heart broke at the pain ravaging him.

‘No?’ Glittering eyes clashed with hers. ‘I was the officer in charge. If I hadn’t split my men the village would have been safe. If I hadn’t responded so quickly to an unconfirmed report—’

Tamsin cupped his jaw in her hand. ‘You don’t know what would have happened. Maybe the attack there would have been worse. You did your best.’

‘You don’t understand. I was there to protect them and I failed. I failed my men too. They were only there because of me. Some didn’t survive. Others still bear the scars.’ He halted, swallowing. ‘Except me. I came home without a scratch.’