Masked Prince (Fated Royals 2)

“You really are one ugly motherfucker,” said one of the remaining guards. “Time to do the world a favor and get rid of your ungodly face. Not like anyone will miss you.”

Randal gave no response, but widened his stance. The two guards drew their gleaming long swords, and Randal adjusted his grip on his dagger, holding it high and parallel with his face. There was a long, tense pause. And then with his free hand, Randal signaled them with a flick of his fingers.

“Bring it on, you fuckers.”

My heart sank and my fingernails broke with the effort of hanging onto the beam. I had just watched as my father bled to death. Helpless and terrified. I couldn’t bear to lose Randal, too.

Chapter 9

Randal

The guards put up a fucking decent fight, but I had the advantage.

I’d been trained by the man who trained the man who trained them, and he kept the most important skills—how to fight dirty and fight hard—for those who might need them. They didn’t stand a goddamned chance. I was one step ahead of their every move. I sliced one across the jugular, and the second one I killed with a twisting stab to the heart.

When the third turned to face me, the way his expression dropped said everything. Sure, with his buddies against an unarmed and untrained opponent he was probably tough as old leather. But face to face against me, he was shitting his goddamned pants.

“Please!” He said, dropping his knife to the floor with a clatter. “I was just following orders!”

I shrugged. “Any last words?”

“Please, let me go. I don’t want to—”

My blade turned his voice into a bubbling sound as his eyes went wide, blood trickling from his mouth.

As he slumped to the ground, I rushed to get myself below Iris and opened my arms.

“I’ve got you,” I said to her. It was a hell of a drop, but it didn’t fucking matter. I’d have caught her if she had to fall three feet or a thousand. I would always be there to catch her. No matter fucking what.

“I won’t let you get hurt. Never again. I promise.”

She was fucking petrified, covered in shit, half-clothed, and shaking. The wound on her head looked bad, but she was still conscious. A damned good sign.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice trembling with the shaking of her muscles. “I can’t let go.”

I looked her in the eye and took a deep breath. She followed my lead and the trembling slowed a bit. “You can. You have to,” I told her.

She was starting to lose her grip, but she was still locked in a loop of terror. “They came, I don’t know where they came from. I don’t know who they are—were, but they came and they…and then Nellie, and…” She trailed off, looking down at the older man on the floor, and also at the cow, who stood in a pool of blood, milk, and shards of glass.

I had understood the situation at first glance. She didn’t need to explain it. Queen Patara sent her guards. The guards killed her father. They scared her up the post. Bottles broke around the cow. I was up to fucking speed. And yet, I knew that her telling me was as much about her making sense of it as anything.

“I know,” I told her, keeping my voice firm and steady. “It’s okay. I just need you to fall into my arms. And then we can get out of here.”

Her chin trembled now, and tears made her eyes glisten. “It isn’t okay, Randal. It…”

Iris’s eyes fluttered shut as she lost consciousness and let go of the beam. I was ready. She fell hard but I had her, and I broke her fall easily and softly. Even given the shitty circumstances, it felt so good to have her back in my arms again.

The head wound wasn’t as bad as I had feared, but she’d sure-as-shit had her bell rung. She’d be feeling that one for a while. The rest of her was unharmed, but she’d need some caring for. As well as some cleaning up. But then, I’d planned on that no matter what. Especially after I claimed her as mine.

I knew now, more than ever, that the situation between us was fucking complicated. I might not be able to marry her, but there was no way—no fucking way—that I was going to let her go ever again. She was mine. And I was going to fucking keep her. Forever.

I carried her out to the stables and loaded her gently over the back of my horse. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something moving. Instinctively, I drew my blade, but it was only the young girl I’d met on the road already headed for the farm, begging for someone to come help her mistress. The poor thing couldn’t be more than nine or ten, but she’d come back to check on Iris when I had expected her to flee home. I sheathed my dagger and went over to her, crouching beside her so that I didn’t scare the shit out of her with my size.