Chapter 6

Chapter 6 ~Raphael ~ “Raphael?” “Mom, did you—what happened?!” I see a woman lying on Mother’s bed. “This poor girl came out of nowhere,” Mother says. The woman is covered in blood and bruises, so it takes me a few seconds to recognize her. “V—Valeria?” “You know her?” I nod slowly and step closer, my expression hardening. “How did she end up here? What happened to her?” “I think… she was drawn to my singing. The poor girl… this is a child deprived of a mother’s love.” Mother’s expression shifts to pain. The corners of her mouth tremble, and a crease forms across her forehead. I put my hands on Valeria’s. What the hell happened to her? She was fine half an hour ago. I saw her, watched her… my eyes never left her until I saw her leave. “The doctor just saw her,” Mother says, “broken ribs and broken bones, but she’ll be okay.” “How? How did this happen?” I try my best to keep my composure. “The doctor thinks she fell down the stairs—what are you doing?!” I reach down to lift Valeria. “She needs rest, Raphael,” Mother says with a weary complaint. Valeria’s face twists with pain. I know it isn’t right to move her with broken bones, but Mother cannot care for her. “I’ll let her rest—in my room. I’ll take care of her,” I say. “Now… why would you do that?” Mother mutters. I watch Valeria’s face relax. Fell down the stairs? That’s exactly what better be what happened. Because I saw everything. I watched her closely all night. I saw her sister spill a drink on her. I watched her mother drag her viciously out of the ball. I turn back before leaving the room. “Did you eat? That’s what I came to ask you.” Mother smiles. “I did. I’ll go into repose now.” I nod. “Rest.” Mother has these surges of strength just like she did now, but she isn’t well. I’ll take care of her, just as she’s always taken care of me. I look down at Valeria as I close the door behind me. “Tonight, I’ll take care of you, too...” Walking through the hall, I can’t keep my eyes off her, just like at the party. I hate it. I hate how I’m feeling. The things I said downstairs… I can’t believe all that shit came out of my mouth. It’s as if I were taken by a spell. It can’t be—that the mate bond is still there, can it? I wasn’t myself. I won’t deny that I want her. But I can’t have her. I glance down at her again. Her once beautiful face is swollen and bruised. The swelling may fade by tomorrow, but the bruises will remain. She’s wolfless, and without that strength, her kind takes longer to heal than ours. Once in my room, I place her gently on the bed. She’s still wearing her golden dress, the back unzipped—likely from when the doctor examined her. It’s filthy. I slide the dress off her and toss it on the floor. My eyes can’t help but linger on her body. My fated mate is beautiful—radiant even in her pain. But I did what I had to when I rejected her, and I still stand by it. I agreed to my father’s terms, and I will not be like him. I refuse. I stare at her, at the wounds marking her body. Did she tumble down every goddamn stair in the castle? I shut my eyes, forcing my anger to settle, and gently pull a blanket over her. My thoughts are broken by a series of knocks at the door. “Yeah?” The door opens. “Your father is… asking for you,” Urien says. His face lights up when his eyes land on Valeria. “Ah! So you do know her.” I get up and stride through the room. “Watch her. Don’t let her get up on her own. She’s hurt.” Urien nods, curiosity still staining his face, but he doesn’t ask anything else. I head downstairs, where the ball is still ongoing, and slide next to Father’s throne, gazing at the crowd. “What are these rumors about this woman you were seen with earlier today, Raphael?” His eyes don’t waver from the crowd as he speaks. “Just rumors. Goddess forbid I compliment a woman—the whole castle goes crazy about it. Finn sleeps with half the palace, and no one bats an eye.” “Finn is known for such things,” he says, “while you’re known to be the unobtainable one. People want what they can’t have.” He turns and looks at me. “How is your mother?” I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. “Better, but not well. I’m taking her with me when I leave.” “You’ll do no such thing, and you’re not leaving anytime soon.” “She wants to leave, and I still will be your damn puppet.” “And I don’t give a shit. She’s my mate, and she stays.” “You have two other mates who’ll keep you company.” “Your mother is my fated mate. She belongs to me.” “This is why she despises you,” I say, my voice sharp with anger. “It’s the reason I left in the first place.” “Let her hate me all she wants. She stays. You’ll know how it feels if you ever find your fated mate.” I turn to leave with a bitter smile. “I’m not you. I did find her. And I rejected her. I refuse to be like you.” “What?” His words echo through the room, pausing all music and making everyone stare. “You heard me,” I whisper as I walk down the throne stage and make my way out. I will not be my father. I will not have multiple mates, and I will not allow my fated mate to live the same life my mother lived. It ruined her. It destroyed her, and I saw it all. So I’ll protect my fated mate from the same fate, even if I have to lose her. But—it’s easier said than done. Back in my room, I dismiss Urien. I undress and lie beside Valeria, turning my head to watch her. I wish I could say she sleeps peacefully, but her face tells another story. She looks tormented by dreams—or perhaps by pain. Either way, I won’t wake her. She needs rest. And as I watch her, the same thought replays in my head—easier said than done. As the second crown prince, I’m a bargaining chip for royal treaties. A mating bargain has already been struck. This is why I rejected Valeria. She will not suffer the same fate as my mother. Yet… now all I want is her. *** ~ Valeria ~ My eyes sting from the morning light directly hitting them. I thought I closed the window last night… no, there was a raven, and a dream—a beautiful woman who made me feel safe. Adjusting my vision, I notice the intricate carvings on the stone ceiling. Wow, I hadn’t noticed that yesterday… and that chandelier—was that there before? Slowly, very slowly, I realize this isn’t my room. Wide‑eyed, I turn to my left, sensing a presence there. Holy… shit! Beautiful blue eyes—Raphael stares at me. My lips tremble for a moment before I leap from the bed, only to collapse to my knees as pain tears through my body. I cough violently, blood splattering across the floor. “You’re hurt, Valeria.” Raphael gets up and rushes to me. He attempts to pick me up, but I slap his hand away as I stumble to my feet and run for the door. The door won’t budge, and at first I think it’s locked, but then I see Raphael’s hand over me, holding it shut. “I won’t have you coming out of my room looking like that,” he calmly says. A mirror reveals what he means. I’m half‑naked and battered. I look horrible, like a walking zombie. I turn, pressing my back against the door for support, my hands clutching at my chest. “Why am I here?” “The doctor said you fell down the stairs. Is this true?” His eyes pierce mine, sharp and inquisitive. “S—stairs?” It all comes back to me. I must have been too out of it to forget. Mother… savage beast. “Y—yes… stairs.” He quietly stares at me for a few seconds. “Are you sure?” There’s no point. I spoke out before when I was a child about the abuse. All it got me was a scolding from whoever I told and a near‑death beating from my mother when she found out. My parents have an upstanding reputation. My sisters’ lying testimony will back them up. “Yes.” I lie. His eyes fix on me again. “C—can I go now?” “Not looking like that.” He gently takes my hand and leads me to a door. I don’t have much fight in me, and I’m sure he won’t let me go, so I comply. Through the door, there’s a huge, beautiful bathroom. He leads me to the shower, turns on the water, and with a gentle hand on my back, guides me inside. Before I can do anything, I feel him unstrapping my bra. I gasp when it almost falls loose. “What are you doing?! Get out!” I turn, holding the bra to my body. “I’m not leaving you by yourself. There are no clumsy stairs here, but it’s very slippery. Now strip.” “What?” “You heard me. Strip. Don’t make me repeat myself.” I narrow my eyes at the very serious‑looking man. Who the hell does he think he is? Well… an Alpha Prince, duh, but still. He has no right to tell me to do this. I open my mouth, but he speaks first. “Argue with me, and I’ll rip off what’s left of your clothes.” I’m about to gasp at the audacity, but I stop myself because… should I be feeling turned on right now at what he’s saying? “A—and I’ll scream,” I say. “No one will hear you.” His voice is suddenly low. “Then… I’ll hit you.” “You can try.” He takes hold of my good hand and, with a swift motion, turns me around, pinning it behind my back. “You… can’t—” I attempt to complain. He says nothing as he gently presses me against the shower wall, water sliding down our bodies. “You… wouldn’t…” My voice is a whisper now, but again, he doesn’t speak. His hands leave my wrists and hook onto the hem of my underwear. I feel him sliding them down, and I’m paralyzed, unable to think or move, nearly trembling. When they’re on the floor, he kneels, putting a hand on my ankle and lifting my foot—freeing the small piece of fabric and tossing it out of the shower. Slowly—very slowly—he straightens, staring at every inch of my body. His warm breath tickles my neck as he slides his hands along my shoulder, slipping the bra off me. I don’t know what the hell to do. No man has ever done this. His presence is so intimidating, yet somehow I know he won’t hurt me. Not with how gentle he’s being, even though he’s commanding. In a leisurely manner, he guides me to the warm water. To my bewilderment, I hear the scuffling of him taking his clothes off, too. Holy shit! What’s happening? “W—what are you doing?” “I’m already wet, and I needed a shower anyway.” I don’t think this is so innocent anymore. Especially when I glance back and see his eyes darker than usual. I turn my head toward him, though I keep my back to him, trying to shield my body from his gaze. He walks closer, his hands slowly sliding from my waist to my hips. Fire—my body is on fire. His hands are the most delicious thing I’ve ever felt on my skin. I turn my head away to face the water. He gets closer, pressing his chest against my back. It feels perfect, it feels right, and it gets me emotional because I remember why I feel this way. He is my other half. My soul mate.