Page 7 of Hateful Prince

Ouch, Lizzie.

I glanced down at my sweater, mindlessly reading the cheeky text: My book boyfriend is better than yours. Today the words didn’t make me smile.

“A replacement?”

Her expression softened. “His one true love.”

“You actually believe in that stuff?”

This time her expression didn’t change, and I knew that meant she was about to lob one of her truth bombs at me. “Why wouldn’t I? Is it any less plausible than the other things you’ve come to learn are true since your arrival here? You’ve met a number of spirits. Seen for yourself that souls very much exist on this plane. Why is it such a stretch that one can be reborn in a new body?”

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “There has to be a limit to reality, right? Next you’ll be telling me the Loch Ness monster is real.”

She raised one eyebrow.

Jesus.

“Sasquatch?”

Still nothing.

“The boogie man?”

“Ah yes, Hank. He’s quite a laugh after a few pints.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes. The boogie man is a construct. There is a local drunk named Hank, though.”

I laughed, thankful she’d lightened the mood.

“So tell me why you think you’re lost? Do you feel like there’s something wrong with having more than one mate? You write books about this very thing.”

She had me there, and honestly, I didn’t have an answer. I just was.

“Maybe if there’d been time for us to talk about any of this before leaping off the cliff and flinging ourselves headlong into it, but there hasn’t been time for anything other than reacting. Tor basically wifed me up the day he met me. Kai’s dragon went feral the second that happened and decided that meant it was time to assert his claim. And then Cain slid in and Persephonied all over me.” Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to tell her that. Hoping she’d let it slip, I kept talking. “Not to mention Cas, with his delusions, calling me Wendy-bird and sneaking into my room and dickmatizing me. And me? I’m just holding on for dear life, wondering when they’re going to realize I’m not worth any of it.”

Masterson simply smiled. “This is the way of things when fated mates are involved, Dahlia. Ask yourself one question. Do I feel the same way about them? Go on, close your eyes and ask the question.”

So I did. I closed my eyes and pictured each of them. All the doubts I had disappeared. My chest swelled with a feeling I couldn’t quite understand yet when I let myself see them.

“Yes. I mean, our individual relationships are all over the place, and some feel more... settled than others, but I can’t subtract any of them from the equation.” And that’s been true since I met them. Even before Cain had his little epiphany and finally gave in to what we’d both been feeling, I had never let myself discount him.

It had always been the four of them calling to me.

“That makes sense. Your bonds are solidifying at different speeds, but they’re all there. Time and proximity will strengthen all of them.”

“So, you’re saying . . . go forth and polyamory?”

She set her pen down, clasping her hands and leaning forward. “I’m saying listen to your heart.”

I gaped at her. “That was not what I expected you to say.”

“Why not?”

“It’s so... frou frou. You’re a doctor. That’s like, the opposite of the stuff you white coats are supposed to endorse.”

She pursed her lips. “I disagree. I’m supposed to endorse things that are healthy for you. Being without your mates is the opposite of healthy.”

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