The King’s Bride : A Steamy Second Chance Fantasy Romance (Scions of the Underworld Book 3)

XARA HAD HAD A BUSY DAY. Once she’d confirmed that Delton would be out all day, she’d taken the liberty to move around town. The spy she’d planted at Delton’s side informed her they knew of Walric’s whereabouts. Her first course of action had been to deliver a message to him, warning him of Delton’s plans. She wouldn’t go directly to him, in case it aroused suspicion.

So, she went to the city library instead. Her father had built one during his reign, and it remained unused. Secret messages were Ifer’s preferred method of communication, and he’d often used the library. When she appeared at the front desk, dressed as the queen, the librarian almost lost his cool.

“Your Highness.” He recognized her right away. After offers of food, drink, and closing down the library for her convenience, he let her be. Xara made her way up the spiral staircase, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. If anyone asked, she’d say she went to the library to read.

Xara didn’t know if Delton would buy her excuse. Not after the conversation they’d had last night. He suspected her. That was for certain. But when she thought of him, it wasn’t just his suspicions she remembered. It was the way he looked at her—like he was a starving man and she was the only drop of water in the world.

I can’t sleep because I think about you… about the things that you say and the things that you hide.

She was hiding quite a lot from him. That was the reason they couldn’t be together. And because he never admitted to his mistakes. Yes, her father had wronged him, but she’d always found his treatment of her excessive. King Elian was dead and Walric was in exile. Wasn’t it time he stopped his endless quest for revenge?

Dressed in a high-necked gown, she subconsciously pressed the spot where he’d left a love bite. Every time she laid eyes on it, her face flamed. Last evening, she’d tried to apply a bunch of oils and salves to make it disappear, but nothing helped. She assumed it’d fade away in time. Or she could use magic to get rid of it.

But the thought of making it disappear tugged at something in her heart. Regret, perhaps. In all her years as queen, she’d done nothing risky. She’d never indulged her desires, preferring to play it safe. Life as Ifer meant the constant threat of discovery and courtesans talked. But that night in the portrait gallery had been a reckless escapade. She’d allowed Delton to initiate her into a world of sexual pleasure. Every time she thought of the dirty words that he’d whispered in her ear, she felt herself growing hot. Yes, she hated Delton, but she liked the way his touch made her feel. She secretly enjoyed living on the edge, in the precarious divide between love and hate, between sex and power.

Lust. That’s what it was. She lusted for him…for his touch… for all the filthy promises he’d made. Even as she hated him.

But he hasn’t apologized yet.

That thought kept Xara from giving in to her fantasies. Delton didn’t know who she was. She assumed all his passion would turn to ash once he found out that he had been sleeping with his nemesis. A smile touched her lips at that thought. It’d be worth getting him in bed just for that.

The third floor was her destination. It smelled of dust and pages. The worn-out wooden bookshelves had been replaced thanks to the generous donation Ifer had made five years ago. At the end of the section on war lay the book that she was looking for—Classical War Strategies. Looking over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, Xara opened the book to the hundredth page. That’s where Walric usually buried his messages. As expected, a torn sheet of paper lay inside. She gathered the sheet and shut the book, placing it back on the shelf. She pretended to wander around, picking two more books before approaching the window. Pressing the note into another book, she began reading it.

It was written in code—in esoteric symbols that Walric and she had learned as children. They’d devised a method to interpret the symbols as words.

The message was loud and clear: Don’t come for me.  

Walric knew he was in danger. Xara knew that Delton was having him watched.

Leaning on the wall, she recalled the day Walric had joined her enterprise. It was a year after she’d begun trading under Ifer’s name, using a false identity to dispose of the goods that she and Osric had been saddled with. However, once the goods were gone, she realized that this was a business opportunity. As their business grew, they needed partners. Walric’s support had come at a fortuitous moment. He’d heard of Ifer’s growing empire and had visited him one night. He needed the money since Delton had stripped him of everything that he owned. One look at Osric, and he suspected her involvement in the enterprise. When Xara broke down and confessed, he was shocked. She told him of Delton’s treatment of her and her reason for becoming Ifer.

“Delton doesn’t deserve you,” Walric said. “I should kill him for what he did.” 

“Killing him won’t solve anything. I want to start anew… I want to take Escayton back from him. I want to win and make him regret what he did to me.” 

Looking back, Ifer had been the product of resentment. Of vengeance. Of victimization. He’d been born from death and sought to reclaim her life. His sole purpose was to undo the hurt that Xara had suffered by making Delton suffer. Ifer had made lots of money, but he had yet to heal her heart.

As she held the note against a candle and burned it, she reminded herself why she and Delton were enemies.

Xara left the library minutes later, remembering Walric’s ominous message.

She made a mental note to monitor her husband as she returned home.

DARKNESS ENVELOPED her room as Xara heard her stomach rumble at midnight. She’d eaten little at dinner, her mind lost in a train of thought. A large grandfather clock ticked away in her room, striking twelve-thirty. Pushing the bedsheets aside, Xara climbed out of bed. Wrapping herself in the robe lying next to the bed, she approached the window. Through the closed glass, Xara glimpsed the serene gardens and the brightly burning lamps that filled Skera beyond the walls. Delton hadn’t returned, from the looks of it. The staff had gone to sleep, leaving the house quiet.

Eager for some fresh air, Xara left her room. Following the carpeted hallway, she made her way to the front door. The royal residence was relatively small, with five rooms and an area for the staff. However, the vaulted ceilings, the stone pillars, and the oil paintings of Delton’s parents spoke of history. She came to a stop before a painting of Delton with his family. He must’ve had it installed after he took over Escayton. It was one of him with his parents, the late King and Queen of Inferno.

The sight of them filled her with guilt. Her father had murdered them, though the official statement was that they’d died in an accident.

The late king possessed dark hair similar to Delton’s and a wide, friendly smile. Standing behind the queen, his hands rested on Delton’s mother’s shoulders. The queen was a beautiful woman. She had Delton’s blue-black eyes, a round face as radiant as the moon, and generous curves. Her lips were a bright red. In the painting, she held Delton’s hand. He couldn’t have been over ten when the painting was done. His younger self was filled with innocence, looking at the painter with enormous eyes. His angular face was softer, his eyes just as mesmerizing. Xara wondered when he’d lost his innocence and turned into the person he was now.

The sound of something scraping the wall made Xara turn. She moved quickly, thanks to her experience as Ifer. Emerging outside the front door, she met Delton’s eyes. His irises, the color of dark sapphires, bored into her, making her heart skip a beat. Dressed in his uniform, wearing all those silver rings and that serious expression, he felt strangely familiar. Comforting.

What a ridiculous thought.

Guards surrounded him on both sides, striding majestically in her direction. He stopped by the flowers outside the house for a moment, and their eyes met across the distance.

Feeling her heartbeat speeding up, she moved to his side, until the edge of her skirt brushed his feet.

“Good evening.” She scanned him for any sign of suspicion. Or worse, victory. They’d never conversed so casually before, but after reading Walric’s note, she was desperate to find out what Delton was planning.

“Xara.” He surveyed her. “How unusual of you to greet me. That too at midnight. To what do I owe the honor?”

She coughed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

That was when Xara saw the glimmer of silver next to her.

A sword.

Pointed at her.

Poised to kill her.

It happened faster than she could react.

Her instincts kicked into gear, but the attacker was too fast. One moment, it was just a glint, then it turned into a short knife. One of the king’s guards held a silver blade aiming to stab her heart. Delton reacted, but a second too late. The blade missed her heart, sliding firmly into the side of his stomach. Blood oozed from where it had gone in. Xara stared, horrified, at Delton’s injured body. Chaos erupted. The other guards moved.

Delton clutched his bleeding hip to contain the flow of blood. A violent roar filled the air. Producing his heavy sword, he stalked after the guard who had stabbed him, covering the space between them in two large strides.

Delton’s eyes gleamed an unholy red as he twisted the man in his single-handed grasp, raising him off the ground. His large fingers came around the attacker’s neck and Xara could see he was inches from snapping his neck. Even with blood dripping on the grass, Delton seemed cool and composed. And entirely too capable of revenge.

“You’re going to tell me why you attacked my wife,” he said with eerie composure. His voice gave her the chills. “Then, I’m going to kill you.”

Xara sensed hate radiating from the guard in waves. She stood next to him, stunned at the sudden assassination attempt. Nobody had ever tried to kill her. The fact that this man had made her worried. Was this why Walric wanted her to stay away?

The guard scoffed. “You deserve to die. You’re not our king.” His eyes shifted to Xara. “We will kill everyone who stands in the way of an independent Skera..”

Delton’s grip on him grew tighter. “Skera belongs to me and always will. I will not relinquish control like a coward. If you have grievances, address them at the royal court.”

“The court? You haven’t even been here since your wedding.” He threw Xara a pitying glance. “Poor thing, the king sold you to him in exchange for power…I could put you out of your misery…” His words were like needles stabbing her heart. “Ifer will see that we prosper. He will lead us to victory.”

“Your Majesty, let us take care of him.” The other guards crowded him but his hand closed over the hilt of his sword.

“Step back.” He commanded as he pulled out his sword.

“Let me tell you something,” Delton bit out, his fury directed at the rebel. “Never, ever dare to harm my wife. Or, you will pay the price with your life.”

With that, he drove his sword into him.

She gasped. The other guards flinched.

“No—” A splash of the attacker’s blood cut her off. Delton hadn’t used magic, but brute force.

It was unexpected.

Her attacker went slack-jawed, eyes widening.

“This is what you deserve for trying to hurt her. She is your queen and you will treat her with the respect that she deserves.”

He released his hold on him, letting him crumple to the floor. When the life bled out of him, Delton took a step back. Turning to the astounded guards, he said, “Clean this up.”

Xara was too stunned to move.

The other guards rushed in, following his command and picking up his body.

Delton reached her side, and all she could do was stare at him blankly. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yes.” She tried to stifle the butterflies in her heart. He had killed for her. To protect her. She never thought she’d live to see the day. But now that she had, her heart wavered. Uneven breaths confused her.

“Skera is more dangerous than I thought.” When he gave her the slightest hint of a pained smile, she inched closer to him.

“You’re… injured.”

Xara reached his side and grabbed his arm just as his knees weakened. He fell on her, his blood staining her clothes. Her fingers immediately reached for his wound, clutching the knife that was inserted in his obliques.

“We need to get you inside,” she said, looping his arm around her neck. He rested his body weight on her, struggling to stay upright. The guards left Delton to her and disappeared. More guards came to help, but Delton brushed their hands away.

“I don’t trust anyone.” When he whispered into her ear, his head resting on her neck, she felt his breaths tickle the tiny hairs on her skin’s surface. “Take me inside.”

“Can you walk?” she asked, pulling him along. He was much taller than her and weighed a tonne. “I can’t carry you.”

“I’ll manage.” He marshaled his strength to walk the remaining distance. The stairs posed a problem, but Delton grabbed the railing. His head must’ve gotten lighter as he approached the final stairs, for he almost fell over. Xara grabbed him, steadying his swaying body. He grabbed her, embracing her. When his face brushed hers, his arms dwarfing her body, she sunk into his embrace, the scent of him filling her nostrils. There was a slight tang of iron and sweat, but all she could feel was his hard body against hers, his weak heartbeats melting into hers. His body sagged, bringing her back to reality. Delton was injured. His wound could be fatal.

“To my room…” His voice was more strained. Beads of sweat rolled off his face onto her clothes, staining her shoulders.

“Hang in there… don’t collapse.”

“I won’t…” His body was still pressed into hers, but her attention went to his waning energy. His heartbeat was getting weaker, which meant she needed to take care of him soon.

She’d taken care of Osric and her men’s wounds more than once as Ifer. Once, someone had tried to stab her and almost succeeded. Her life in the underworld had taught her to react quickly. Every second mattered for saving lives.

When his legs hit the wooden flooring, she breathed a sigh of relief. From there, it was a quick trip to his bedroom. When they were outside, Xara kicked the door open. Delton grabbed the wall, easing his weight off her, and made a rush for his bed. He sank on the mattress in a pile of sodden clothing, blood staining the pristine white sheets. Drops of blood streaked the floor.

When she sat by his side, his hand grabbed his thigh, fingers digging into her clothed skin as he writhed in pain.

“It has been a while since I got stabbed. I must be getting weaker.“ More and more blood flowed out of him but it seemed to have no effect on his lucidity. It was just like Delton to be stubborn and try to control death. His gaze trailed over her puckered lips, her eyebrows knit in consternation.

“You should’ve restrained your movements instead of trying to kill him. That takes a lot of energy.”

“I couldn’t let him insult you,” he said, his dark gaze piercing her. “An insult to you is an insult to me.”

The butterflies in her stomach began rioting. She inhaled and exhaled deliberately, trying to calm her heart’s response to his words.

“Unless the insult comes from you, of course,” Xara said. “Your hypocrisy is impressive, Your Majesty.”

She recognized the harshness of her words as soon as they were uttered. Though Delton had never loved her and never pretended to, he’d never been discourteous to her in public. The light passed over his golden wedding band. He hadn’t been unfaithful either.

“Perhaps you’re right. Would you prefer it if I dropped dead instead?” He rasped, as she remained lost in thought. “You’d be free to marry someone less cruel.”

It was meant as a jest but the thought made Xara’s heart go still. She had gotten used to seeing him around. To reading the subtle expressions on his face. To silently craving his touch. To secretly denying how much she lusted after him. Sometimes, he said things that made her want to forget the past. His open hostility and viciousness were beginning to grow on her.

But it was too deeply entrenched in her. She couldn’t forgive him. Not that he’s asked for it. In a perverse, unintentional way, he had given her reason to live. She lived for revenge. If he was going to die, he’d die at her hands, not like this— bleeding out on her lap while she failed to save him.

“So, you admit to being cruel.”

“Maybe…” His rasps grew lighter, and she was suddenly worried he was slipping away from her.

“Lie down.” She pushed him back. “Let me take a look at your wound.”

When she studied the angle of the knife, she realized that she’d need to get his clothes off to see where it had hit. “I’m going to take your shirt off.”

She grabbed the lapels of his embroidered black coat, struggling to ease it off his shoulders. The chain on his neck jangled, turning until the pendant slipped back between his shoulder blades. Even in this state, he possessed remarkable willpower for he sat up, enabling her to slide the coat off of him. The shirt he wore was translucent, clinging to his sweat-lined skin. Xara swallowed as he reached for his shirt buttons, undoing them. His breaths came in uneven gasps, making him pause.

“Stop being obstinate and let me do it,” she said, her hand closing over his. His lips parted when their fingers touched but he quickly pulled it away. When he lay down this time, his head didn’t fall on her pillow but on her lap. Hurriedly, she unbuttoned his shirt, trying to focus on the task at hand. As his soaked shirt peeled away, his skin came into view. The side was bloodied but she didn’t miss the chiseled, hard muscles that made up his chest. A trail of dark hair ran along his tight skin, traveling down his narrow hips to somewhere Xara didn’t want to think of. Re-orienting her eyes to the knife stuck to his oblique, she brought forth her magic.

Without warning, she grabbed the handle and yanked the knife out in an instant. Delton screamed and she secretly enjoyed it.

“When I married you, your father said you had a gentle touch,” Delton croaked, gripping his bloodied obliques. “There’s nothing gentle about your touches.”

Suppressing a smile, she said, “Do you want to live or be coddled?”

“Live…” he croaked out, his fingers wrapping around her arm. His eyes were red, the demon part of him having surfaced in the battle for life. He looked desperate. Xara felt for his wound, her fingers covered in his blood. When she pressed on the wound, he yelped.

“I’m going to use magic to heal you,” she said. “It might hurt a little. You know your magic and mine don’t mix. You’ve also lost a lot of blood.”

“Hmmmm…”

“Try to distract yourself.” She summoned her magic, suddenly becoming more sensitive to energies. Closing her eyes, she focused on the environment, drawing energies from the nature around her. His was the strongest in the room, dark and intense, oozing out like a drop of black ink in a tub of water. A bright light appeared in her hands as she marshaled her powers.

 When her energy came into contact with his, he flinched. They both had strong energy and he resisted hers. During their wedding ceremony, he had trouble swallowing her blood. It was what happened when one tried to marry opposite energies—just like them. Delton breathed through the first hit of her magic. Xara’s powers disappeared, unable to penetrate his wound, and she heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Try to relax. The cut is deep. I’m going to use magic to close the wound.” His head moved on her lap, those red eyes losing their color as he faced her. One hand on his hip, the other holding his chest in place, she felt like a real wife. Swallowing, Xara tried again, closing her eyes to focus on healing him. Her energy moved deeper this time, making contact with his. Once it did, his body drank in her power.

She needed to keep talking to distract him.

“What would you do if you were really dying?” Her magic was sinking under his skin.

“I’d conquer Elysium.” His deep voice echoed.

It was just like Delton to think about conquering Elysium while on his deathbed. What had she expected?

“Don’t you have any personal goals…like falling in love? Surely even you must’ve wondered what it’d feel like to be loved.”

“No.” He winced when she applied more force. The skin was beginning to close. Magic was rarely used for wounds like these. Even magical healers couldn’t heal wounds completely and often used their powers to lessen the pain. However, her powers had always been extraordinary in that regard. “Is that what you’d wish for if you were dying?”

“Maybe.” She said.

“Well, there’s something else I’d do. Since I’m hypothetically dying, I might as well tell you this.” A long pause filled the air as he screamed once more, her magic digging deeper into his skin. Sweat lined his forehead, two veins popping on his strong arms that gripped the edge of the bed. “I regretted exiling you. Only for a moment. Unfortunately, it was too late to change my mind by the time I realized what I’d done.”

“Is that why you ended my exile early?” Xara inhaled sharply.

“Yes.”

The wound was sealing rapidly.

She laughed. “And what brought on this sudden pang of conscience?” Her magic fluctuated. She pulled herself together. “Just a little more…”

“The fact that I might be dying,” He winced when she poured more magic into his wound. “If I were really dying, I’d apologize for what I did.”

She didn’t reply, focusing on using her magic to heal. The words disappeared between her magic and his battle for life.

“Apologies don’t come easy to me. Especially where your family is concerned.”

They were almost done now. The light precipitated, indicating that deeper layers had been healed. She pulled her hand back as she used light to stitch the top layer. Delton’s breathing returned to a more normal pace when she was done.

“I’m done.” Her light vanished.

Delton reached for the injured side of his body and audibly gasped when his fingers met his healed flesh. He sat up, eyes widening.

“I… I feel good as new.” His gaze traveled down her eyes to her bloodied hands. He touched the healed skin, which looked like it had never been pierced. Except for the blood covering it, of course. “Now I know why Darius is in awe of your abilities.”

Xara slid off the bed. She looked into his eyes a little too long, before saying in a breathless voice, “You’re welcome. I’ll send someone to clean up this mess.”

“No!” Delton called out, leaning on the pillow. “I don’t want anyone in here… not until I sort this out.” His eyelids drooped, perhaps a result of all those sleepless nights coupled with his injury. Xara considered brushing him off, but realized that his guard had stabbed him. It wasn’t a good idea to leave him unattended with his staff. She hadn’t expected there to be dissenters within the royal residence. She’d have to look into potential spies and enemies tomorrow.

Losing the mental battle, she grabbed a basin of water from one maid and instructed them to leave. Wetting a white towel, she brought it to his chest, mopping blood. His hand caught hers.

“I’m sorry for making you do this….”

“You must really be delirious, Delton. I can’t imagine you being sorry otherwise.”

A sly smile curved the right side of his lip. “Maybe I am….”

She felt the warmth of his body as she wiped the last traces of blood. A queen would never do something like this, but she’d lived by herself for so many years. At that moment, it didn’t matter who was in front of her. She had the power to save his life, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“It isn’t over, I’m afraid. You have a fever. It’ll go away in the morning.” She cleaned his skin thoroughly, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin as she finished. “A night of good sleep should help you recover.” His eyes were closed, his body sinking into the mattress. “I’d recommend taking care of the bedsheets, but it’s too late for that.”

As he comfortably rested on the bed, she covered him with a clean bedsheet. He must’ve drifted off already, for she heard his quiet breaths. When Xara stood up to leave, however, his hand remained on hers. She raised an eyebrow as Delton opened his eyes.

“Thank you…” His voice was groggy. His eyelids drooped.

Before he could finish that sentence, he was asleep. His fingers remained clasped around her wrist even when he began to snore. She left the cloth on the bedside table and sat next to him. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, the constant worry lines etched on his face disappearing in an instant. Her fingers reached for his soft strands of hair, stroking gently. Running her thumb over the bolt of white she’d longed to touch, she took in its springy, soft texture. Delton looked almost human when he was asleep, as vulnerable as the rest of them.

A ray of light shining through the window fell on his silver chain—the one carrying the prison key. She’d succeeded in forging it and freeing Osric. Heart pounding, she closed her palm over it.

Delton shifted in his sleep, pulling the chain back. It slipped through her fingers. When he turned, the key slipped under his arm, away from her reach.

His hand still entwined with hers, he pulled her forward. She fell on top of him, his face buried between her breasts. Xara tried to pull back but their hands were still linked. The best she could manage was to lie down next to him, his arm under her body. Pressed up against him, she felt his pulse. She had been in a lot of dangerous situations but she’d never slept with a man pressed to her. The fact that Delton was the man in question only made things worse.

She studied his sleeping face, the light sliding over his angular features. She brought her thumb to his jaw, feeling the prick of dark stubble as she brushed his lower lip. The steady rhythm of her breath emerged after a few minutes. Assured he was asleep, she observed him without judgment.

She wanted to kiss him. It was all she’d thought of last night. Even though he was her enemy, she felt drawn to those lips.

Delton was asleep. She could kiss him now. Nobody would know.

Xara moved her face closer until her lips hovered a few inches from his. She felt his breath on hers. Seconds before she was about to kiss him, though, he groaned. His voice startled her, making her pull back. He moved.

That brought her back to reality. What was she thinking?

Xara needed to leave. Gently peeling his fingers off her wrist, she tried to get up. But before she could succeed, his eyes opened. Two dark pools bored into her, foggy and distant.

He was dreaming.

His fingers moved where they gripped her arm. Brushing a thumb lightly over the pulse point, he closed his eyes again. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into an embrace.

“Karina…” His breath trailed over her skin. Her body stiffened upon hearing that name as his fingers gripped her back tighter. With desperation. “Is that you?”