Page 10 of Happily Ever After
I didn’t answer. I knew why. The clever, reckless woman was pursuing her investigation, following threads I’d warned her to leave alone. Rage and fear warred inside me—rage at her foolishness, fear for what they might do to her.
“Tommy said she fought them,” Laurel continued, her words tumbling out. “Said she told him to run, to find me. He heard her screaming as he escaped.”
Something dark and primal awakened inside me. The careful mask I wore before the court slipped away like water.
“Lennox,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “Gather twenty of your best men. Armed. No uniforms.”
My captain nodded once, already understanding. “And the usual restraints, Your Highness?”
“None.” The word fell like an executioner’s axe. “No witnesses. No survivors.”
Noah pushed away from the window, his expression grim. “I’m coming with you.”
“As am I,” Rosalind added, her delicate features hardening with resolve.
I turned to her, surprised despite myself. “Lady Bellrose—”
“I can handle a sword better than half your men,” she interrupted, chin raised. “And Ilyana is…” She paused. “I won’t stay behind.”
In that moment, I glimpsed what Ilyana had seen in Rosalind—steel beneath silk. I nodded once.
“Very well.”
I moved to a cabinet in the corner, unlocking it with a key I kept on a chain around my neck. Inside lay an assortment of weapons—not the ornate ceremonial blades of court, but killing tools, well-used and deadly.
I selected a pair of matched daggers, their edges gleaming wickedly in the lamplight. The familiar weight in my hands was comforting as I slid them into the sheaths at my belt.
“Your Highness,” Laurel whispered, still kneeling on the floor. “Will you find her?”
I looked down at the maid, allowing her to see what few ever witnessed—the truth behind the golden prince. The real Anderic Voltaire.
“I will burn that inn to the ground if I have to.”
Twenty minutes later, we rode through the palace gates—myself, Noah, Lennox, Rosalind, and twenty of Lennox’s most brutal fighters. The night air was cold against my face, but I barely felt it. My mind was consumed with images of Ilyana—her sharp tongue, her defiant eyes, her rare genuine smiles.
If they had harmed her…
“We’ll find her, Eric,” Noah said quietly, guiding his horse alongside mine.
I didn’t answer. Finding her wasn’t what concerned me. What concerned me was whether I’d find her alive.
And if I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a place in this world where the Red Cross could hide from what I would do to them.
Anderic
One moment I was standing there, glass of champagne in hand, watching Lady Ilyana navigate the court with that defiant grace of hers. The next, she was striding toward me with fire in those fox-like green eyes.
My instincts flared—something was about to happen. Something unpredictable. That’s what made her so damn fascinating.
Then her lips crashed against mine.
Holy fuck.
The world dissolved around us. The gossiping nobles, the orchestra, even the weight of the crown—all of it vanished. There was only her—the taste of her, the feel of her fingers tangling in my hair. Heat surged through my veins, a primal force that demanded I claim what was mine.
I bit her lower lip, just hard enough to mark her. To remind her who she was dealing with.
The court would be scandalized. Perfect. Let them see. Let them all see that this woman—this infuriating, fascinating creature—had chosen me.
