Page 32 of Seeded By Two

I tried to ignore the concern in them.

I shut my eyes to block him out and said:

“I mated with her.”

I let the words hang between us, my eyes still shut.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants before slowly opening my eyes once more.

He just stared at me, unblinking, his expression blank and impossible to read.

His brow drew down and his lips hardened into a flat line.

He pushed himself up off the edge of the desk and towered over me. “You betrayed me?”

Each word was a dagger in my heart. “No!” I said reactively.

But the truth was I had and there was no escaping that.

I had betrayed him, but in my haste to just get the words out, I had left out an important piece of information.

“But there’s more to it than you think—”

“Oh, I think I understand it perfectly.” He jabbed a finger in my face. “You wanted a taste of the Royal life! You’ve been so close to it all your life but you never got to experience it for yourself! Now, during my Steyatt, you saw your chance and you took it!”

He ran his eyes over me as if seeing me for the first time. “In fact, I bet this isn’t even the first time you’ve done it! I bet you’ve taken my females before! Haven’t you?”

He drew closer to me threateningly. “Haven’t you!”

“Never!” I said.

“Liar!”

The Prince hurled a fist at me, but I was ready and blocked it, standing up from the chair and knocking it over.

I would never raise a fist to him and he must have known that, as he pressed forward with his attack.

“All this time, your sense of honor and duty has been an act, hasn’t it?” he growled. “Yes, I see the truth of you now! You were never my brother, never my dutiful servant! You were always out to get everything you ever wanted!”

I shook my head. “No. No. Never! You’ve always been good to me. I never meant—”

He swung at me again.

I leaned back, managing to avoid the blow.

As well as studying together in classrooms, we had also been self-defense practice partners since we were old enough to form a fist.

I knew his style every bit as much as he knew mine.

But I had always been the superior fighter.

I had my own style and, as part of my training, had to learn to mimic his too.

It taught me some valuable lessons he never received — how to properly read your opponent, how to analyze their style and anticipate their next move.

As he launched himself at me, I knocked aside each blow, defending, never attacking, always keeping one step ahead.

“This isn’t you!” I yelled at him. “This is not the real Prince Aslas! This is your Steyatt talking! You need to calm down! Get a grip or things will end badly!”

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