Page 38 of Settle Down, Princess

I knew what he was thinking: that he was seeing something he wanted, needed, more than anything else in the world. I slid my hand across the tabletop and gripped his fingers.

“I believe I have nothing to fear from you, Creed.”

His hand spasmed, gripping mine far too tightly, and I knew why. He feared I’d slip from his fingers, in the same way that I feared that my chance at freedom would.

I allowed my eyes to trace the line of his broad shoulders. I took in all the powerful elements of his frame, and I wanted, so badly, to enlist his help. I imagined how I’d wrap my arms around his neck in truth, not from sheer necessity, and whisper my plan into his ear. He’d sweep me from this place and up onto his horse, riding hard and fast, away from Khean and from anywhere people might hunt us.

Away from his packlands, where the rest of his kind lived. Away from the men he’d sworn a bond of brotherhood with. Away from the king who commanded him. The king who’d hunt the two of us down like dogs, putting an arrow into each of our brains once we were caught. And I knew that it was precisely because of who he was that I couldn’t include him in my plans. The men I paid in gold would know what they had signed up for. The entire thing would simply be a transaction, so that if—when—they died at the hands of the King of Khean, I wouldn’t cry for them. I nodded slowly, then pulled my hand away.

“Milady, the master asked me to let you know that your bath is ready.”

The innkeeper had made the bathing attendant sound as though he was a young boy, but when I looked up, I saw we were of the same age.

“Oh, gods, that is good news,” I said.

And, as I stood, I realised he was the perfect age to notice everything my dress revealed. Perhaps he might be my means to finding men I could hire to help me escape. “Could you show me the way?”

Creed, Silas, and Roan each set aside drinks or cutlery and rose to their feet, ready to follow me up.

“The princess doesn’t require guarding in the bath, gentlemen,” Arik drawled. “Take a seat. She’ll be back down before long.” He smiled up at me, but there was no mirth in it. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it?”

“You’d have to have a heart in the first place for the aphorism to be true,” I shot back, my eyes narrowing as I did. But by the time I turned back to the lad, I was smiling again.

“Princess Jessalyn of Stormare,” I said, offering him my hand.

“Princess…” That, that kind of awe was what was currently missing from my life. The lad went to take my hand, then awkwardly bowed over it, placing a damp kiss on my knuckles. “I’m Rion, Your Highness. Please, come this way.”

I knew my escorts had more to say, but they weren’t my focus right now. I needed to see what information could be wrung from this Rion, then decide on my next move.

“What brings you to Summervale?” he asked, as we climbed the stairs, stopping when I paused on the steps. “Erm… Highness?”

I’d known women at court who were brilliant and well-practised at playing a role. They could cry at the drop of a hat, perfect crystalline tears that would stay at the corners of their eyes, falling only when they wanted them to at the perfect moment to achieve their ends. They could feign misery, joy, excitement, or whatever emotion would have men dancing to their tune. That behaviour had drawn the ire of other women at court, but I saw the sense of it now.

We were given so little access to legitimate sources of power that we had to be merciless with the ones we had. Women were often described as emotional creatures—far too flighty for more serious pursuits—so some women had become adept at portraying every single emotional state when advantageous, becoming actresses on the stage of their own lives. It wasn’t something I’d been taught to do, but I’d learn. Oh, how I’d learn, and there was no time to start like the present. I was forced to think for some moments about my predicament, my fate, for the tears to come, but come they did.

“I’m in trouble, Rion,” I said, my throat choked with barely suppressed sobs. “The men I’m with… They’ve taken me captive, and they plan to sell me to a man in the capital.”

Chapter 22

Creed

“You know that Jessalyn is planning something,” Silas said.

My eyes flicked from my plate to the stairs. The princess had already gone to her bath… Or had she? I went to rise, but Arik saw me and snapped, “Sit down. She hasn’t committed to anything just yet, but I’ll wager good Kheanian gold that she’s up there whispering in that lad’s ear right now.”

“Of course, she is.”

My voice was more wolf than man as my beast pushed me hard. He couldn’t understand why we hadn’t plunged our dick in the princess the moment we’d met her, especially when she’d stripped every stitch off and stood between us all. She’d smelt wet, hot, and receptive, and as the pack had clustered around her, it was clear that she accepted them, accepted me. The battle I’d waged with the wolf—to stop myself from pulling her close and sinking my fangs into her neck, claiming her for all to see—was the hardest I’d fought in my life.

I may have won that battle, but I felt like I was losing the war every day.

I could still feel the burn of her fingers against my skin when she gripped my hand and told me… There was no stink of fear, nor the sour scent of duplicity that hung around so many people when they found out what I was. She’d—

“She’s trouble, with a capital T,” Roan said, but his grin made it clear that he wasn’t unhappy with the situation. “Women always are. But that one… So, what do you want to do about it, O great and glorious leader?”

“One of us will stand watch outside her door all night,” Arik said, with a sigh. Staying in townships usually meant we could catch up on our sleep, with no need for guard duty. “If she so much as farts in the night, we go in there and check on her.”

“Which will piss her off to no end,” Silas noted, with a grim smile.

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