Page 57 of Asking Fur Trouble

As she turned to leave, Kynon’s voice followed her, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade.

“You misunderstand the situation entirely, Lady Bess.” His footsteps approached behind her. “Not only will we not withdraw our objections to the petition, we’ve decided that to ensure Charov doesn’t succeed, we’ll need to remove his one advantage.”

Bess froze, the hair on the back of her pale neck standing up. “What are you talking about?”

“You, of course.” Kynon’s voice dropped to a dangerous level. “His true mate. The one thing giving him legitimacy in the eyes of the people. A rather inconvenient problem for us.”

She backed away, her gaze darting toward the exit. “I think I really should be going now.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Kynon lunged forward with surprising speed, his fingers digging into her forearm.

Bess wrenched her arm away, knocking over the tea service with a deafening crash. “Get your hands off me!” The newfound boldness that had brought her here alone suddenly felt like terrible foolishness.

“Nya! The door!” Kynon shouted as Bess made a desperate dash toward the terrace exit.

Nya appeared in the doorway, her face twisted with malice that had been hiding behind her practiced smile. “Where do you think you’re going, Earth girl?”

Bess pivoted, heading for the garden stairs, but Kynon caught her from behind, his arm wrapping around her waist with bruising force. She stomped on his instep with her heel and jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

“Feisty,” he hissed, loosening his grip just enough for her to twist away.

She made it three steps before Nya tangled a hand in her hair, yanking her backward with stunning force. Pain exploded across her scalp.

“Should have stayed on Earth,” Nya spat, producing a cloth from her pocket.

The sickly-sweet smell hit Bess’s nostrils just before Nya pressed it against her face. She held her breath, thrashing wildly, but a sharp blow to her stomach forced her to gasp. The chemical invaded her lungs, and the world began to blur at the edges.

Charov,she thought desperately, hoping against reason that somehow, their mate bond would alert him.I’m sorry. I should have listened to you and stayed close.

The world faded to black.

When Bess regained consciousness, cold stone pressed against her cheek. Her head throbbed, and her wrists burned where coarse rope bit into her skin. The musty smell of earth and dampness filled her nostrils as she forced her eyes open to near-complete darkness.

“Hello?” she called, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. “Is anyone there?”

“Finally awake?” Nya’s voice preceded the click of heels on stone steps. A light flared, revealing a basement filled with wooden crates and ancient furniture draped in sheets.

Bess struggled to sit up, discovering her ankles were also bound. “You won’t get away with this. Charov will come looking for me.”

“Will he?” Kynon emerged from the shadows. “Or will he believe you’ve returned to Earth? After all, we have this.” He dangled her comm device before her. “A lovely message about how you couldn’t handle the pressures of royal life is all it will take.”

Cold fear slithered down Bess’s spine, but she refused to let them see it. “You clearly don’t understand what being true mates means.”

“Oh, we understand perfectly,” Nya said, circling Bess like a predator. “That’s why we need to decide how to permanently remove you from the equation.”

“He’ll sense I’m in danger,” Bess bluffed, hoping it was true. She had read mate stories in her free time here to know there was supposed to be a connection, but she and Charov had barely begun to explore their bond.

Kynon laughed. “Perhaps. But by the time he figures it out, if he ever does, we’ll have implemented our plan.” He crouched beside her, his sour breath hot against her face. “The better question is whether we make it quick or take our time.”

FORTY

Charov smiled and nodded appreciatively at the benefactors. These people had donated generously to the children’s home, and as king, it was his duty to express gratitude. But mid-conversation, a sharp, electric pulse of fear shot through him. His smile faltered.

The sensation wasn’t his own emotion—it was Bess’s. It coursed through his veins like ice water, setting off primal alarms in his bear’s consciousness.

“Are you all right, Your Majesty?” The elderly benefactor touched his arm.

“Yes, just—” Charov straightened his shoulders. “Please excuse me for one moment.”

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