Page 111 of Tricky Princess
His father looked pointedly at Ros, then his eyes moved to Ellea. “I would, for the right reasons.”
“What reasons?” Devon pried.
Did he not realize what his father was implying? Or was he actually trying to get him to say it? He glared at Devon, but then Sam cut in.
“Leave Daddy Azzy alone. You’ve been hounding him our entire meal.”
Stab me in the head, please.
“I’m sorry.” The tips of Devon’s ears turned red, and Ros knew he was only hunting for knowledge. “I get carried away.”
“It’s good to be curious,” his father said. “At least you aren’t stealing horses and horrifying shades.”
Sam smirked and looked down at his empty plate. Ros couldn’t believe how open his father was, how he entertained Ellea and his friends. This was nothing like growing up during stuffy parties or private dinners. He cleared his throat, trying to stop his mind from wandering to a darker time. Things could change for the better. It was something else he kept reminding himself.
“We should get Devon back,” Sam said.
“Are you running from your latest prank?” Ros asked, turning his attention away from bad memories.
“No.” He laughed. “I have to check in with my betas and Ags. We’ll be back in the morning so you can whoop Devon’s ass and I can whoop El’s.”
Ros raised a brow at his friend. They had begun training together after her father disappeared. Ellea was actually training Sam, not that they would tell him. She would create beasts to fight him while Mythis battled her with a sword. He was the only guard Ros trusted to not accidentally try and stab her. Never mind that she could take care of herself.
Ros had focused on Devon’s shadow magic since he was fairly strong at all the other elements. It forced him to tap deeper into his well of power, and they were slowly digging further, strengthening his powers. If he took the plunge for immortality, he would be a force to reckon with after more years of training.
Ros and Ellea had been training in the evenings. She would come at him with claws and teeth, and he would be in a partial demon form. It was the only way she could fight something close to her strength. They didn’t admit she was stronger, and he didn’t know if that was for his ego or her fear of accepting how powerful she was.
They had also formed a new plan. Since her parents were so eager to get her in particular, Ellea had been focusing on making duplicates of herself. Plan B was to disguise herself as Cato. If she couldn’t get near enough to her mother to apprehend her, maybe he could.
Ros cleared his throat and shifted in his seat as memories from the morning she’d used her echoes for evil instead of good clogged his mind. Getting his cock sucked by two Elleas while a third watched was a fantasy he hadn’t known he possessed. It made him wonder what else they could do. She had said her feelings were intensified when she made more of herself. The thought of his princess sitting back and watching, enjoying every second of it, made his cock grow hard. Sam kicked him under the table, breaking him from his new favorite memory.
“Can you make your boner go away long enough to take us home?” he said with a wicked grin.
Ros grumbled under his breath while adjusting himself. He heard Ellea snicker next to him before he gave her a scathing look. She only blinked at him, sipping her water.
“It’s your fault,” he said, grabbing her by the chin to kiss her soundly. “I’ll see you when I get back, princess.”
Both Devon and Sam kissed her on the top of her head before bowing awkwardly to his father. Ros led them out of the dining room.
The three of them stepped out into warm autumn sunlight on Sam’s property. Sam’s shit-eating grin quickly disappeared, and he took a fighting stance. Ros and Devon followed suit, looking for an attacker.
On Sam’s porch stood two snarling vampires. Sitting in a wicker chair like it was a throne was Cerce.
“Get out of my fucking chair,” Ros growled. His shadows uncoiled around him, ready to strike.
“Where is my daughter?” she asked, stroking the wicker arm. Ros realized she looked nothing like Ellea. Ellea was all curves and muscles, bright smiles and sparks in her eyes. Cerce was a dull husk of a woman, too thin and bony. Her eyes were dead when they looked up to Ros, and he wondered how she had the power to take down anyone.
“She is not your daughter,” Devon snarled next to him.
Ros put up a wall of shadow in front of Devon, blocking Cerce’s ability to burrow into his mind. It was something he and Ellea had been working on. The witch didn’t seem angry at being blocked; she gave him an evil smirk and appraised him. It felt violating.
“I know my husband went looking for her but sadly came back empty-handed,” she said, standing and wiping her hands together.
So she didn’t know Cato had gone to Hel. He hadn’t given away their location.
Interesting.
“You have two days,” she said from the porch. “Or I will begin what I started, where I started it. It’s time to finish this.”
