CHAPTER 30

VIENNE

I woke to an angry baby and a pounding headache.

“Sorry, my lady,” a maid was telling me, her voice high and distressed as she jiggled a wailing Anniston in her arms. “I tried to keep her happy and quiet to let you sleep off all the festivities from last night, but I fear she won’t be calmed until she has her mother.”

Nodding, I sat up and held out my arms so the girl could hand me my child. But, wow, I must’ve slept hard. I hadn’t heard Anniston wake—or the maid enter my room to help with her.

When she instantly calmed at the sound of my crooning voice, it warmed something inside me that made me forget all about how much I’d drunk the night before.

Anniston had a way of making everything better. I smiled at her as she fed, tracing her cheek with a single finger and sighing. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that, little girl? The very best.”

She opened her eyes when I spoke, meeting my affectionate gaze with her own content expression. And though being with her brought me all the peace and love in the world, my mind strayed to another.

~Urban~.

He’d felt all these things for me that I felt for Anniston without even knowing me first, without learning if I ~deserved~ it. It made me wonder if maybe that was what one true love really was: the selfless giving of your heart to another without reason, thought, consequence, or gain. I had loved Anniston before I ever looked into her eyes, before I could ascertain if she deserved it first, and I knew I would still love her no matter what kind of woman she grew up to be. Just as Urban did for me.

That was a profound realization. He loved me as I loved my baby. It made me wonder why I had been so afraid to admit I even ~liked~ him in return. Why had I been determined to guard my heart where he was concerned? He’d already proven he was worth it, and I liked being in his company; I liked ~him~. He was a good, honorable man who made me hope, and want, and yearn. Why fight that?

Because it might hurt? Because it would be hard to deal with? Well, that was stupid, because this entire situation was already difficult, and I already hurt. Besides, I could still love him even if we never became husband and wife. Marriage hadn’t made me fall in love with Soren, and it couldn’t seem to keep me ~out~ of love with Urban.

I’d always told myself I would love whomever I saw fit, because that was the one thing I could control in my life. My heart was ~mine~. Yet I’d been purposely denying it any feelings for the man I ~wanted~ to love because of the obstacles surrounding us.

Well, no more. The heart was meant to love. So I would let it.

And I should stop thinking of myself as disloyal or unfaithful for merely loving another. Love had never been part of my marriage, so how could I betray Soren by giving my heart to another when he never had it? I could enjoy Urban from across a room without ever touching him.

I ~could~.

Finding great peace and resolve from that decision, I asked the maid for some tea and the last few grumpackers I had in my gift baskets from Allera—or now that I thought about it, they’d probably come from Urban all along, hadn’t they?

I took my time eating them, savoring each bite. And I swear, they were the sweetest grumpackers I’d ever eaten. Because they’d come from him. With love.

As soon as Anniston finished her meal and we were both dressed, I was eager to get out of my room. With my new resolution to let my heart open for him, I felt good. I started up toward the East Salon for sunlight, cheer, and hopefully a good view of the training soldiers below—only for a harried servant to intercept me.

“My lady, the king wishes to see you in the Throne Room at once.”

Shocked by such a summons and instantly worried, I hurried down with Anniston still in my arms. When the guards at the entrance saw me approaching, they waved me inside immediately, making my heart leap with fear. Was everyone okay? Had the bearer of dark magic finally struck?

“Vienne!” Caulder cried in relief as soon as I crossed the threshold. “Thank God. Just the person I need.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing around for a sign of what had happened. But only the king and his guards, dignitaries, and servants were present.

“It’s that man of yours,” he started, sighing with aggravation and running a hand through his tousled hair. “He needs to be controlled.”

I blinked and frowned. “Soren?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “~No~. The other one. The one bonded to you through that ridiculous mark.” When I continued to squint at him in confusion, he threw up his hands. “~Urban~! I’m speaking of Prince Urban.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, trying not to show how much more worried I grew, knowing the issue was with Urban, not Soren. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s come unhinged, ~that’s~ what’s wrong,” the king blustered, waving out a hand. “I guess he’s woken in a foul mood, or with a sour stomach, or ~something~, because reports keep coming in from soldier after soldier that he’s on a violent warpath. He’s already hurt four men on the training field this morning, breaking two arms, slicing one too deeply with his sword, and flat-out knocking the fourth unconscious. Then, after I had him dismissed from training for the day, I got a report that he’d made a maid cry when he threw a pitcher of ale across a room, shattering it. I can’t keep getting interrupted with this nonsense just because the man’s in a temper. Something must be ~done~ before he actually kills someone.”

I blinked, my mind spinning with ways to sneak to Urban without anyone finding out and discovering what was wrong with him when I noticed the king was sending me an expectant look.

“Well?” he demanded.

I jumped and squeaked, “Wait, you want ~me~ to attend to this issue?”

Oh, thank God.

The king narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t call anyone else in here about the matter, now did I?”

“No, but… But I thought you didn’t want me near him. You’ve threatened his life and my time with my own daughter to ensure such a thing.”

“Well, I’m setting that decree aside until you’ve settled ~this~ matter.”

Relief bloomed inside me even as I asked, “What do you want me to do?”

Caulder flailed his hands in frustration. “Reason with him. ~Talk~ to him. I don’t know! I don’t ~care~. I just know his temper is out of control, and ~you’re~ supposed to be his one true love, so ~you~ should be able to calm him down if anyone could.”

“So, I can—”

“I have spoken, Vienne. Now go save ~all~ of us from his wrath. Instantly!”

Well, who could ignore an order like that from a king?

“You there.” He jabbed his finger toward a nearby maid. “Have someone take care of Lady Vienne’s child for her until she’s accomplished her duties.”

Since I couldn’t rightly argue with Caulder, I helplessly handed Anniston over and asked, “Does anyone know where the prince even is?”

“I do, my lady.” A guard at the door stepped forward. When I met his gaze, I noticed the man had a fresh black eye. I winced, hoping that hadn’t come to him courtesy of Urban.

“Good then.” Caulder waved his hand, dismissing us. “Follow him, and get this settled as soon as possible, if you please.”

I followed the guard into the hall.

“He was prowling around the Blue Chambers last I saw him,” the guard informed me discreetly.

I nodded. “Did he give you the bruise?”

The man cleared his throat and blushed slightly. “I got too close.”

Gulping bleakly, I bobbed my head again. “So, I should keep a good distance from him, then?”

The guard shrugged. “Except he’s started throwing things.”

“Lovely.” With only a vague, intimidating idea of what I was getting myself into but determined to see Urban and find out what was bothering him, I followed the guard down the hall toward the Blue Chambers. As we neared the entrance, a breaking sound preceded a ripe curse before Urban exploded through the doorway and started stalking down the hall away from me.

I knew he knew I was there, even though he didn’t even glance in my direction. He always knew when I was close; his mark told him so.

Alarmed that he purposely hadn’t even looked at me and was storming away from me, maybe even leaving ~because~ I was approaching, I said, “Urban?”

The muscles in his back tensed as he slowed to a stop, but he didn’t turn around.

When he said nothing, I realized I was going to have to do all the work. “I need to speak with you, if you please.”

“Not now,” he growled.

When he started away again, I lifted my voice and hurried after him. “Yes, now. ~Right~ now. I’ll just keep following you if you don’t stop.” No way was I going to let him suffer without even trying to help him first.

This time, when he plowed to a stop, he finally turned around to face me, but the violence and rage in his gaze made me gasp and lurch a step back.

“Yes, my lady?” he gritted out from between clenched teeth.

I blinked, taken aback. Until it hit me.

“You’re mad at me,” I gasped in realization. Then I shook my head, because I couldn’t for the life of me deduce what I could’ve done to upset him so thoroughly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered evasively, sliding his gaze guiltily away as he tried to turn his back to me again, but I grabbed his arm.

He recoiled as if I’d just slapped him.

Jerking roughly out of my hold, he flashed his teeth, snarling, “Don’t touch me.”

I shied back, curling my hand against my chest. A second later, regret flared in his gaze.

He appeared miserable as he looked everywhere but at me. “Now isn’t a good time,” he rasped as if the words scraped his throat raw to even say.

“But Caulder sent me to find out what’s wrong with you. You’ve injured so many soldiers today they’re afraid you might kill someone.”

“Well, you can tell the almighty king he can just go fuck himself and mind his own damn business. I’m ~fine~. And I can’t rightly hurt anyone else on the training field since he’s ordered me ~off~ it, anyway, now can I?”

“Oh, ~Urban~.” When I whispered his name, he seemed to crumble, bowing his head and turning away slightly before squeezing his eyes closed.

I reached out again, unable to help myself, and this time, when my fingers barely grazed his arm, he shuddered as if my touch physically hurt him.

It broke my heart.

I glanced back toward the guard who was watching us with wide eyes. When his gaze met mine, he nodded and turned away, hurrying away to give us privacy. Taking Urban’s hand, I led him down the hall toward the smaller, more private Red Chambers, where I shut the door behind us. He stepped away from me, keeping his back to me as he ran both hands through his hair.

“Please talk to me,” I begged, clasping my hands helplessly at my waist. “And not because the king ordered it, but because I’m worried about ~you~.” I couldn’t handle seeing him so upset. “Something is troubling you terribly. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

“Help?” he choked out miserably. He spun toward me, revealing an agony that shimmered like a thousand knives tearing at his soul. Then he glanced away before announcing in a broken voice, “Can you help what you ~caused~?”

I shook my head, confused and worried. My mind spun, trying to remember what I’d done wrong. I barely remembered the night before, but the vague images I recalled were pleasant and lovely—of Urban in the dark with the most mesmerizing colored shapes reflecting off his face.

Or had Soren seen me touch him? Had my husband punished him for ~my~ actions?

“What did I cause?” I whispered in sudden fear.

“You…” When he focused on my face and took in my worry, he muttered a curse under his breath and turned away again. “It’s not exactly what you caused, but what you did, and it wasn’t like you did anything wrong, anyway, so just forget it. Okay?”

“Forget it?” After repeating the words slowly, I shook my head and spilled out an incredulous laugh. “I think not. If I ~hurt~ you, I want to know what I—”

“Can we ~please~ just drop it?” he snapped, his rigid back becoming a wall that blocked me out completely.

“No,” I said. “Absolutely not. Not when you’re this upset.”

“Well, that’s not your concern.”

“Except you just said it was! If ~I~ caused this by doing something to—”

“Jesus Christ! You came for him. Okay?” Whirling around to scowl moodily, he stepped closer and hissed, “You came for him. And ~that~ is why I’m out of my mind with…with…” Unable to come up with the proper word he wanted to use to express his pain, he just stood there and sputtered, miserable and mad, all rolled into a helpless kind of bleak frustration.

“I…” I blinked, not understanding at all. Finally, I shook my head. “I ~what~?”

Muttering an oath, he turned away and whipped a hand through his hair. “I was so sure I was handling this, that I could deal with belonging to a woman who belonged to another. I could never physically touch you, and I hated that, but we still had our dreams and you... You let me befriend you. It was enough. It would’ve been enough until my dying breath, because I could handle not having you as long as I didn’t see ~him~ have you either. And I never did. You two might sit beside each other at meals and exchange friendly enough dialogue, but I never saw you touch or kiss, or hell, even be remotely affectionate with each other. I could pretend he never bedded you. I could... Dammit.” He squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his teeth as he shook his head savagely. “But last night, when I felt your orgasm shriek through my mark...”

His gaze met mine, and he looked betrayed. “~That~ I cannot bear. I can’t handle knowing when he’s inside you, much less ~feeling~ how much you enjoy it. I can’t... My God, I just can’t...”

He shook his head, backing away from me. “Rationally, I know I’m being stupid. I ~know~ he’s your husband. He has every right. I have none. I’m not anything to you. This shouldn’t be eating me alive, because if you’re going to have sex with your husband, I would ~want~ you to enjoy it, but—”

“Urban,” I said in a placating voice as I reached for his wrist. But he pulled his hand away and stared at me as if I were taking a knife to him.

“How could you do this to me,” he rasped. “I worship the ground you walk on, and you make me experience it with you when you ~come~ for another man?”

“But I didn’t,” I promised, shaking my head.

His face crumpled before he said, “I know you didn’t intend it, and I’m sure you didn’t ~want~ me to feel it, and God knows I didn’t want to invade your privacy and feel it either, but—”

“No,” I murmured insistently, cupping his face in my hands so he’d focus on me. “Look at me. I ~didn’t~. Soren didn’t come to my room last night. We were not together. Not at all.”

Urban froze, gaping at me as if I’d just spoken a foreign language.

“He hasn’t visited me in that manner since... Well, not since we learned I was pregnant with Anniston. Which was ~months~ before you ever stepped foot in Donnelly. And please don’t ever say you’re not anything to me. You’re most certainly ~not~ nothing to me. You mean quite a lot, actually. I think I might even…” Not sure if I could confess aloud just how much he meant, I looked into his eyes and lamely repeated, “You mean a lot to me, Urban.”

Lips parting, Urban expelled a breath of relief before he faltered and insistently shook his head. “But I felt your... And it was definitely lust. You ~had~ an orgasm.” He blinked at me, baffled by what he was learning.

When I blushed hotly, he narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Who the hell were you with then if it wasn’t Soren? ~Dammit~.” He stepped close, pointing. “I never tried to seduce you because I knew loyalty was important to you, but if you’re ~not~ going to be loyal to your husband, then you’ll be disloyal ~with me~. No one else.”

Frowning, I smacked him on the arm. “Stop being an idiot. The only time I’ve broken loyalty with my husband ~is~ with you... In my dreams. And that is all.”

“But...” He frowned at me a moment, and my blush grew brighter. Finally, the truth hit him. “My God.” He fell back a step, gaping with shock. “You pleasured ~yourself~.” His expression was so incredulous it would’ve made me laugh if I weren’t so embarrassed. “I didn’t even consider that.”

“Yes,” I hissed under my breath before glancing around and then adding, “I was drunk and…and… Well, you saw how I was. I just needed a little something—~some~ relief. Now, can we please just shut up about it?”

A wide grin overtook his face. “Yes, my lady,” he murmured cockily. “Shutting up now.” Only for him to frown and shake his head. “Except, wait. That was the first time I’ve ever felt your release. Why have I never felt it before?”

I scowled. “I’d rather know why you had to feel it in the first place.”

He bowed, looking too smug for his own good. “Because your pleasure is my pleasure, my lady. Tell me.” He shifted even closer after he straightened. “Were you thinking of me while you touched your sweet little—?”

“Don’t you dare say it,” I commanded, narrowing my eyes and pressing my lips thin, even as my insides heated with the memory of imagining he’d been there while I’d touched myself.

He grinned, even as he mimed zipping his fingers across his lips.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

I turned away to leave him, because obviously, I’d done my duty and calmed his rage, but he snagged my wrist.

“No, wait.” He turned me back to face him, his grin quizzical. “You didn’t answer my question. Why was that the first time I felt it?”

I scowled right back, but he didn’t catch on, so I crossed my arms over my chest and muttered, “Why do you think?”

His brow furrowed before the truth finally hit him. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, that can’t be the first time you... ~My lady~? Why would you deny yourself pleasure for so long?”

“That wasn’t my ~first~ time,” I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “It was just the first time since ~you’d~ come to the castle.” Clutching my scorching cheeks, I closed my eyes and moaned. “God, why did I just admit that to you?”

“Because who else could you admit it to?” he said simply.

I opened my lashes to stare at him, realizing something. He was right. I ~could~ tell him anything. I knew I could tell him anything, and it would be okay. I could always trust him to keep his silence with my secrets, and I could trust him to still accept me afterward. No matter how embarrassing, mortifying, or awful a confession might make me look, I knew he wouldn’t think less of me. He wouldn’t judge me. His feelings for me wouldn’t waver, which gave me a peace and security I had to cherish.

My God, when had our relationship morphed into this?

No wonder why I couldn’t help but love him.

Rattled by the realization, I shook my head and turned away in a daze. When I started away, he murmured, “Vienne.”

I turned back. He looked vaguely worried, so I said, “Yes?”

More agony swirled in his gaze. “What do we do when he ~does~ visit your room? It’s going to happen. Someday. He wants a son, doesn’t he? A male Donnelly mixed with Mandalay blood. He’s going to demand his husbandly right to be with you, and I’m going to feel it. But I can’t—”

“Shh,” I murmured, moving back to press my fingers against his lips. “Trust me, if he ever visits me again and forces me to lay with him, you won’t feel an orgasm. He’s never given me one in the past; I don’t foresee him doing so in the future.”

Urban huffed out a breath against my fingertips, his gaze full of misery. As I lowered my hand, he grumbled, “That bad at it, is he? Well, fuck, I don’t like that answer either. If he gets to taste what I could only dream about, he should damn well appreciate the gift he’s been given and treat you like the goddess you are. He should never find his own release until he’s given you at least three.”

I blurted out a laugh. “~Three~?”

“No, you’re right,” he agreed, a grin blooming across his face. “~Four~ orgasms, then. Possibly even five.”

My laughter rang out louder as I threw my head back, letting it run wild. “You’re crazy.”

With a groan, Urban loomed closer, his gaze hot and afflicted. “God, Vienne,” he choked out. “Stop laughing like that. It makes me want to kiss the hell out of you.”

I took an immediate step back and shook my head. “You promised not to say such things to me.”

“Did I? I can’t imagine why I’d ever make such an absurd oath. But alright then, if you insist.” He stepped backward, away from me, but the heat in his gaze remained.

From the longing on his face, I wondered if he was going to break his promise and step back toward me, seduce me right then and there. If he did, I wasn’t sure if I’d stop him. My will was too weak. I wanted him. I ~loved~ him. The need to be with him was an itch in my blood and an ache in my soul. I wanted to touch him more than I wanted breath in my lungs. And I swear, the only thing keeping us apart in this moment was his unending respect for my wishes.

I was about to throw myself at him when his chest heaved and he nodded. “You’re right. But before I go back to behaving, I just need to say this.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “The next time you pleasure yourself, I’ll be there. Maybe not physically, but I will feel every stroke and caress as if it were ~my~ hands on you instead of your own. And when you cum, I will too. I’ll finish myself at the same time so our orgasms match. You’ll never have to experience it alone again. I’ll be with you. Somewhere.”

Tears sparkled in my gaze. “Thank you,” I choked out. Then, unable to bear the breadth of the feelings surging through me, I turned away and dashed from the Red Chambers.

I hurried up the steps that led to my room because I needed to cuddle with Anniston now more than ever, but when I turned down my wing, I almost ran smack into Soren and had to stumble to a gasping halt to avoid a collision.

“Hey,” he said, pointing at me. “There you are. I was wondering if you could track the High Cliff bastard down and calm his ruffled feathers. Something’s got him in a snit today, and someone will get hurt if he doesn’t calm himself.”

Glancing away, I wiped at my damp cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of it. He’s fine now.”

“Oh, did you?” Soren lifted his eyebrows, interested in this bit of news. “You didn’t fuck him, did you?”

I lifted a single eyebrow, holding my anger in check. It would serve him right if I said yes, that I ~had~ slept with Urban. It would serve him right if I kicked him in the nuts for acting jealous and suspicious after I’d just done exactly what he’d ~asked~ me to do.

Hell, it would serve him right if I were simply honest and upfront with him.

Lifting my chin, I spoke my truth. “Unfortunately, no. I didn’t get that pleasure. Because ~I~ actually take my wedding vows seriously. Unlike you.” Stepping past him, I continued down the hall without another word, smug power cloaking me as my idiot husband gaped after me with his jaw hanging loose.