Page 32 of Princess Broken

“Oh.” These men have servants? Again, I’m not certain why this surprises me. The place is immaculately clean. In hindsight it makes sense that the four of them aren’t responsible for taking care of it.

Phil’s body shifts inside the frame of the doorjamb, and heat licks my insides again. This threatening vampire is massive. His shoulders fill the door’s frame, and while the expanse of his chest tapers from its broad start, it only narrows to what is still a very thick waist, measured against most males. His body, in silhouette, resembles a massive tree trunk and appears just as solid. And now my eyes have fully adjusted, I can detect the shape of his abdominal muscles through his t-shirt, a t-shirt the same style and black color as yesterday’s although I can tell that it’s fresh.

My gaze drops lower, and his hips shift again, his jeans stretching to accommodate his powerful hips and thighs, not to mention a prominent bulge, which holds my attention far more than it should.

Shame races through me.

Timur was my lover—albeit for a short time—my very first lover, and I hate that my body is entertaining even the fantasy of moving on to another.

And it is just a fantasy. I would never want to be with a brute like Phil—not ever—but my libido, now that it’s been awakened, clearly plans to remain active, tempting and teasing my mind and body at the most inopportune times.

Forcing my gaze away from the vampire, I look down toward the rug next to the bed.

Phil clears his throat. “Come out when you’re ready. When the others get back, we’ll show you the rest of Freetown.”

“I’d like that. Very much.” The more I know of this place, the easier it will be to make a plan.

Phil nods and then backs through the door, shutting it behind him.

In spite of his assurance that someone else will tidy the broken carafe, I pick up the pieces, glad it didn’t shatter, and leave the shards in a careful pile on the bedside table, not seeing any obvious place for their disposal.

Hanging in a wardrobe at the side of the room, my gown is wrinkled from the impromptu swim that didn’t wash out the bloodstains. My blood, Timur’s blood, perhaps others’ too.

An image of the melee at the Marianos’ flashes in my mind. I crouch down, covering my head and curling into a tight ball once again. My body trembles as my mind travels, but not to yesterday, to the other massacre long ago. Memories I thought I’d banished, but my nostrils burn with imagined gun smoke and the scent of blood, and my ears are invaded by bangs and screams.

Fighting to draw breaths, I search for my composure. My captors can never see me like this—never see this kind of weakness. Never again…

I’ve already revealed elements of it to them, although many parts of what happened remain fuzzy.

I thought I’d long ago outgrown these terrifying flashbacks, but after yesterday’s events it seems they’ve returned full force. Or are threatening too.

I won’t let it happen. I can’t go back to the past. Not to my childhood. Not even to my sheltered life at the palace. Forward is all that matters.

Standing, I strip off the borrowed t-shirt, hang it in the closet, and slip on the crumpled, stained gown. If the men have a servant, perhaps they can launder the garment. I have absolutely no idea how one would go about taking care of one’s clothes, beyond not leaving them in a heap when removed.

I pull up the duvet and spread my arms over it, smoothing it as best I can, but I can’t make the bed look as smart as it did when I came in last night.

I shake my head. It’s high time to learn how to take care of myself. To live my life without servants. Time to earn my own coin, too. Excitement races inside me as possibilities for the future pop into my mind. In spite of my royal duties, my life’s like a blank notebook ready for fresh sketches.

After his return from his twenty years gone, my adoptive father, the king, made it clear that I needn’t be bound by my title, or the public duty it carries. He and my sestra, Selina, plan to make great reforms to the Monarchy, and it’s not clear what the role of Princess will entail after that. Especially since Selina, as King Dunkan’s biological child, became heir ahead of me. I’m now the spare.

Until Selina was born and then discovered, as the king’s only progeny I was also his only heir, and spent the past hundred years learning the history, traditions and politics of the vampire world. And before that, I spent my first sixteen, learning those same things about Russia and the other human monarchies of Europe. Public service has formed my entire existence, but I’m no longer certain it’s all I want for my future.

I’ve had so little chance to explore the world, never mind to discover my place in it. How can I know where I fit in a world I’ve seen so little of? Flopping back onto the bed, I look up to the ceiling, painted dark with golden stars, and I sigh contentedly thinking of the future.

As much as I want to travel, the idea of having a home of my own, performing the duties required to care for that home is very appealing.

Perhaps not entirely on my own. The pictures of my fantasy future shift within my mind, taking a slightly different shape.

Yes, I would love a comfortable place to call home when I return from adventures, but wouldn’t it be nice to share it with someone? With someone I love? I imagine having what Selina has, what my new friend Ember has. Having someone I love, a mate of my own.

I’m not greedy. I don’t need multiple mates like they each have. I’d settle for one. One man to support me, to cherish me, to laugh with me, cry with me when I’m down. One man with whom I can share my most intimate thoughts, not to mention my body and blood. A man who makes my heart flutter. A man I can’t live without.

I want to feel what Ember described when she told me how love feels for her.

My heart fills with longing. While I felt a great fondness for Timur, I simply did not ever see him like that. Not in the hundred years of our acquaintance, despite the feelings he developed for me.

Pain scrapes through my heart. I’ll never see Timur again. And worse, I hurt him so badly before he died.

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