Chapter 33 Before She Breathes Again
Adrian’s POV
The knock came again…three sharp raps, like nails being hammered into my skull.
“Your Majesty?” Lady Margaret’s voice dripped honey through the wood. “Adrian, darling, open the door. We know you’re in there.”
I didn’t move. My hands were clenched together so tightly, I could feel them cracking.
Thomas stood frozen by the door, eyes wide. I turned to him slowly.
“Did the news leak about the princess’s condition, and you forgot to tell me about it?” My voice came out flat, deadly.
He swallowed hard, voice cracking. “Your Majesty…what happened was beyond my control. I…I don’t even know who leaked it. But half the kingdom already knows the princess is unconscious.”
I stared at him until he dropped his gaze.
“Forgive me, your majesty. Do you want me to dispose of them?” he asked, quieter.
“No,” I said. “That will only make them bolder. Start preparing the feast for tomorrow. The northern delegation arrives at noon. Leave the inconveniences outside to me.”
Thomas gave one sharp nod, yanked the door open just enough to slip through, and slammed it shut behind him. I heard Margaret’s startled gasp on the other side.
I turned back to the bed.
Abby…my Abby…lay exactly where I left her. Pale as death. Lips blue. Chest barely moving.
Pain exploded in my ribs like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. Fear followed right after, cold and suffocating. My wolf clawed at the inside of my skin, howling, tearing, ready to rip the world apart because our mate looked lifeless.
The sorceress said a few hours.
A few hours.
I was nowhere close to solving the mystery, and time was running out.
If she slipped away…if she died…I was following right behind her. No debate. No throne, no kingdom would hold me back. I’d burn everything down and walk into the fire with her name on my tongue.
Another knock. Louder.
“Your majesty!” Margaret sang, cheerful as ever. “We’re waiting to discuss something important. Or are you hiding something in there?”
I ignored her. Dropped to my knees one more time beside the bed, cupped Abby’s cold face, and pressed my lips to her forehead.
“Come back to me,” I whispered against her skin.
What if it’s not her actual name but one she actually liked. An alias. A nickname. Something she used when she didn’t want to be the princess.
Who would know it? Her maid?
But as soon as I withdrew from her, it hit me like a storm.
The memory of that day.
Her outburst.
My eyes snapped open.
I stared at her face…really stared.
Oh my Goodness…
No.
It can’t be.
I leaned closer, breath shaking.
But what if it is?
Minutes later, I stood up with a smile, walked towards the door and yanked it open.
Lady Margaret stood there, smiling like a cat who found the cream. Levi loomed behind her, arms crossed, smug as ever. Two council members…old Lord Fenwick and that snake Harrington…flanked them like bodyguards.
Margaret tried to crane her neck past me into the room. I stepped forward and pulled the door shut with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than a gunshot.
I walked.
They followed.
We didn’t speak until we reached the main corridor. Margaret broke first.
“I heard disturbing news, dear nephew,” she said, voice light, eyes sharp.
I cursed inside. The guards who let them into this wing were losing their heads tonight. Slowly.
I didn’t stop walking.
“What could possibly be so disturbing,” I said without turning, “that you brought your son and two council members to arrest me in my own palace?”
Margaret laughed…delicate, fake. “Always so dramatic, nephew.”
What’s with the nephew? Is she losing her touch?
I led them into the throne room. The massive doors groaned open as the guards opened them. The throne…black iron and wolf fangs—sat waiting on the dais like it was hungry.
I climbed the steps, turned, and sat.
They stayed below me. Exactly where they belonged.
Margaret folded her hands. “Word is, the princess is…a vegetable.” She let the word hang like poison. “In a vegetative state.”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
I leaned back, rested my elbows on the arms of the throne, and smiled.
“Interesting. Where exactly did you hear that ridiculous lie?”
Margaret’s smile got wider. “This is my home too, Adrian. I have eyes everywhere. Did you really think something this big would get past me? We’re family. We share things.”
I laughed. Loud. Mean.
“Like how you want to share my throne with your son?”
She opened her mouth to fire back but I cut her short.
“Just shut up,” I said.
The command hit the air like a whip. Every single one of them…Margaret, Levi, the council members…dropped into a bow so fast their knees cracked against stone.
I let the silence stretch, then spoke again, voice low and lethal.
“State why you’re disturbing my peaceful day with your little circle of traitors.”
Lord Fenwick shifted. “I… I don’t even know why she dragged me here. I was resting when I got…”
Margaret glared at him so hard I thought his head might explode and he kept quiet, avoiding her gaze
She straightened, chin high. “The princess’s condition proves the law is right. She’s not fit to be queen. If you keep forcing this bond, she’ll die. And you’ll die with her. I’m your aunt, Adrian. I don’t want you dead. I want what’s best for you.”
I laughed again. “Since when?”
Then I leaned forward.
“Remember when we were kids? You’d take the fresh bread, the honey cakes, the new boots…give them all to Levi to pick first. I got the leftovers, the hand-me-downs that didn’t fit. You always pretend to care about me in front of my father. But whenever he’s away, you treat me like trash. You’ve never wanted what’s best for me, Margaret. You want what’s best for you and your son. So, cut the crap.”
I stood, suddenly realizing that they were actually inside the palace without being summoned.
“What the fuck are you even doing in my palace? Didn’t I ban you from entering unless the world was ending?”
Margaret lifted her chin. “We’re royalty as well. You can’t lock us out of our own home.”
I stepped down from the dais and started walking towards them. “Really? You think so?” One step. Two.
She took five steps back like it would make any difference if I wanted her dead. “Then show me the princess,” she stuttered. “Prove to us that she’s alive and well right now or…”
“Or what?” I interrupted.
My growl rolled through the room like thunder and they all cowered in fear instinctively.
I stopped in front of Levi. Looked him dead in the eye. Then clapped a hand on his shoulder…hard.
Then, I grinned.
“Speaking of good news…your engagement ceremony is in a few days.”
Levi blinked. “My what?”
“The vampires accepted the marriage proposal,” I said, ignoring his outburst. “You’re marrying their crown princess of Eldoria. The alliance has been sealed. Thank you cuzzo, and congratulations.”
The room exploded with their gasps of disapproval.
“WHAT?! Are you serious about this?” Levi roared, face turning purple.
Margaret shrieked, “You can’t do this!”
That’s it. Something to keep them busy and away from talking about my mate.
I walked back up the steps, threw myself into the throne, and watched the chaos like it was the best play I’d ever seen.
Levi spun to his mother, voice cracking. “Mother, do something! I’m not marrying a bloodsucker! I’m not the king. Why should I sacrifice myself for some dumb alliance?”
Margaret’s eyes blazed. “This is the king’s responsibility! Unless…you want Levi to take the crown?”
I tilted my head, smiling wide at them.
“The condition only says any male of royal blood. Levi is royalty, isn’t he?”
Levi looked like he was about to puke.
Margaret opened her mouth…then froze.
Because from the doors behind them, a new voice…cold and furious…cut through the air like a blade.
“King Adrian Draven.”
I looked up.
Standing in the entrance, flanked by close to fifteen or twenty armored northern guards in white and silver, was King Ariston.
His eyes were fixed on me.
And they were glowing with murder.
He stepped forward.
And the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees.
“Where the hell is my daughter?”