Masked Prince (Fated Royals 2)

It took one second, two, three for the rest of her guards to get the sense of the changing winds and run to save their own asses. Fucking cowards. Not that I was surprised. That’s what money, not loyalty, will get you when the shit goes down.

I was focused entirely on Iris, and the double-threat to her life. The queen was the first problem—closest to me and with a weapon that would require a minimum of power to inflict maximum harm. I gripped my blade two-handed and made like I was going to decapitate her, swinging wide and rushing forward. Instinctively, she dropped the poisoned dagger and ducked. Fucking predictable and exactly what I’d hoped.

I kicked the blade aside and kneed her in stomach, making her double over. My men went for her automatically, grabbing her by the arms to neutralize her and all her goddamned venom.

Next up, the guard that had Iris from behind.

I could see in his eyes he was fucking terrified. I would’ve given good odds he’d already shit himself or was about to.

“Listen, you motherfucker. I’ll give you one chance to let her go and flee the city. If you don’t take it, you’re fucking done. Got me?”

He got me alright. He was halfway out the goddamned door before his blade even clattered on the stone. In an instant, I had Iris safe in my arms. I pulled her into me with her face to my chest, shielding her from everything. She was back with me, where she fucking belonged. Where she was always meant to be. All the horrors of losing her faded away. The nightmare was over. My goddess was safe. She embraced me, shaking in my arms, howling like a terrified animal.

“I’ve got you,” I told her. “I do.” Iris shook her head against my shoulder. As soon as she heard my voice in her ear, I felt her body relax. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing her messy hair. “Are you hurt?” I asked.

She shook her head against my shoulder.

“No,” she said, muffled into my chain mail. “I’m okay. I’m okay now. Thank God you’re okay, too,” she said, groaning out one last moan of adrenaline into my chest. I’d heard that sound before, from warriors when the battle was finally won.

Still keeping her tight in my arms, I turned to the queen.

“Alright, you bitch. I’m going to give you a choice. Either I throw you to the crowd like your man there,” I glanced over the parapet, and Patara did, too. His bloody, decapitated head bounced ghoulishly through the crowd’s outstretched arms. Pretty fucking helpful as illustrations went. “Or, I can show you mercy.”

“Mercy?” She snarled. “What the fuck does a monster like you know about mercy?”

More than you will ever know. I had lived my life knowing I could kill her, but never acting on it. I had shown her grace every motherfucking day of my godforsaken existence.

“Time to choose, Patara.” I glanced inside the castle and saw commoners pouring through the hallways. Pretty soon, the choice wouldn’t be up to her. “Your enemy has breached the gates. If they get their hands on you, I’ll be powerless to stop them. You know what’ll happen. There’s probably a hundred barrels of tar near boiling, every goddamned one of them with your name on it.”

She hesitated, her mouth tight. I knew she was going to pick death; I fucking knew it. It was the easiest way out. But before she could say the word, the head of her guards—the one she’d been screwing for so long—threw down his sword.

“Mercy,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of me, with hands raised. “We both beg for mercy, your grace. Please, show us mercy.”

Patara wasn’t used to being spoken for, and she didn’t like it one little fucking bit.

“You cowardly piece of shit!” She roared at him, spit flying.

“Mercy it is,” I said, pulling Iris close. She looked up at me, relief in her beautiful eyes. As I looked at her, I knew it was knowing her that had given me any mercy at all in that moment. She’d seen enough, suffered enough, and I would never have let her see me take out my vengeance in such a brutal and cold-blooded way.

I pressed a long kiss to her forehead and breathed out all the tension that had gripped me since Patara had shown her face. My Iris was alive. My Iris was safe. I had my reason to live again.

“Take the queen to the dungeons,” I said, and my guards snatched her up off the ground. “Make sure she’s unharmed. And weld the gate shut.”

As my men went about securing the queen’s hands behind her back, Iris looked up at me.

“There are people down there in her dungeons. They need to be freed.”