Crown and Shackles: The Princes Mate

Chains of Silk and Shadows

"Nothing... Oh no, son. Nothing's wrong," the king said, though the tremble in his voice gave him away. It was low, hesitant-like he was trying to convince himself more than us.
"Just... surprised, that's all."

"Why?" I asked, even though part of me braced for the answer.

The king looked between us, his shoulders heavy with thought. His voice softened. "Because... Logan hasn't exactly had the cleanest history when it comes to how he's treated slaves."

"Dad..." Logan's voice dropped, raw and aching.

"I'm not here to judge," the king said gently. "But real change takes more than words, Logan. It takes time. And you can't blame me for being cautious."

Logan squared his shoulders. "I have changed. I found my mate. And I love her."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. I stepped back, just a little. My heart thudded in my chest. I wanted to believe him-I needed to-but if the man who raised him could still doubt...

What had Logan done before me?

And what would happen if this love ever faded?

The king turned to me, his expression not cruel, but concerned. Protective, even.

"I hope you're right, Logan," he said quietly. "For her sake."

Trying to shift the mood, he offered a tight smile. "Well. If she's already changed you, then maybe that's something worth believing in."

"She already has," Logan replied without missing a beat, eyes locked on mine.

We held each other's gaze for a moment too long. I looked away first. My wolf growled low inside me, urging me toward him. I felt him tug me gently into his arms, but I resisted. He growled softly this time-a warning, or maybe a plea.

"So... when are we leaving?" the king asked, watching us carefully.

"Soon-" Logan began.

"Oh, you're leaving?" I asked, feigning interest.

Logan gave me a look. "We're leaving." And before I could argue, his arms locked around me like steel.

"But-"

"I'm not leaving my mate," he whispered close to my ear. "Not now. Not ever."

The sparks between us flared, making it harder to fight the pull. It was growing stronger with each second-relentless.

'Stop fighting it,' my wolf growled. 'You belong with him.'

I ignored her-barely.

Then the wailing started.

Amy.

Of course.

She came stumbling forward in a swirl of fake tears and drama. Logan tensed. I nearly laughed.

"My dear, what is wrong?" the king asked, though his voice was dry, skeptical.

Amy dramatically collapsed near his feet, sobbing into her hands like she'd rehearsed it. "She's not his mate! She put a spell on him! I am his true mate!"

The king stared at her for a long second, unimpressed.

"A spell?" he asked, arching one brow.

"Yes!" she wailed louder. "She's evil! A witch! She tricked him-he doesn't know what he's doing!"