58: An Angry Prince

Quincy St. Martin

We get off the plane to balmy Californian weather. Much warmer than the freezing one we left behind, even though it’s already after 11 p.m. here.

There are limos already waiting for us just outside when we walk out of the airport lounge.

I watch as the last of our bags is stowed away in the trunk before the driver opens the door for us. In the lounge, we had people who literally bowed to us and jumped to do our bidding.

“Is this how they usually travel?” whispers Jorden in my ear as we watch Gideon Archer and Helen walk to one of the cars that will be taking them to their hotel.

Gideon gives me a quick glance before he ducks his head down to get into the car. I only have time to shrug my shoulders. I’m about to lift my hand up to wave to Gideon before Caspian shoves me ahead of him to get into our car.

One look at his tight, cold expression and I let myself be ushered in without a word.

Just like that. Just one look from Gideon and suddenly the dark ominous angry energy that had somewhat eased up when we exited the plane is now back. It’s simmering just underneath that sophisticated veneer. It makes him seem dangerous, wild, and ruthless. It reminds me once again of what he is.

So far he hasn’t let me out of his sight or his reach. He’s constantly touching me or holding me close. My body is like a live wire from his touch. The air between us crackles with the current.

“You’ve earned yourself a few spankings for what you said and did back at the hotel and just now, princess,” he murmurs in my ear once we’re seated in the limo.

“What?” I try to crawl over him to get out, but his long, strong fingers curl into my hips and pull me back down. “But…but…I didn’t do—”

Jorden climbs in the car right at that moment, preventing me from saying anything or trying to escape. He is followed by Jonah.

I so do not deserve a spanking! Or several spankings.

The way he’s looking at me is making my stomach do some serious somersaults and my heart galloping in my chest. Something wicked, bitter, and cruel flashes in his green eyes as he casually wraps an arm around my shoulders and places a possessive hand on my knee.

When he turns to face my cousins, his smile is open and friendly.

Jorden and Jonah are sitting on the seat facing us. My five-foot-eight frame suddenly feels very tiny being surrounded by three big, tall men in the confinements of the car.

“So, you’re going to drop us off at Jonah’s first, right?” I ask him hopefully as the car pulls away from the airport.

“No,” he answers firmly. “You are staying with me from now on.”

“What?” No, no, no. This is not good.

“Guess what, Q? I’ll be staying with you too,” says Jorden cheerfully, oblivious to my anxiety and Caspian’s dark mood. “At least for now.”

“Yes, and Jonah is welcome to stay, too, if he wants,” Caspian adds with a guileless and charming-looking smile.

My mind is reeling right now. When was this decided?

“Thank you for your offer, but I have a home to go back to,” says Jonah. “But I do agree that Jorden should stay with you. At least until I figure out our living arrangement. Otherwise, he’s going to have to sleep on the sofa.”

“I think I’d better go home too,” I quickly chime in. My voice sounds more like a squeak.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly trained on me.

“Sweetheart, your home is where I am,” Caspian says sweetly. His hand on my shoulder tightens in warning.

“He’s right, Q, you’re his mate. You should’ve moved in with him the moment you knew that. I thought Nana taught you all these things,” says Jorden.

Nana was always telling me things, but I never paid much attention when it was about mates.

There are archaic rules concerning mates that would make every feminist in the human world go berserk. Since I’m a human, the most normal there is, these rules don’t apply to me, do they?

Caspian turns his body to face me so that both my cousins can’t see his expression. His smile is wicked and dangerous, and far from innocent.

Okay, so those feminists don’t have to deal with a possessive lycan prince.

“Did you hear that, sweetheart? You should have moved in with me a while ago.”

His green eyes glitter dangerously underneath his eyelids. He’s looking at me like a predator eyeing prey he has cornered into a trap.

“I’ve been much too generous and accommodating with you, sweetheart. I let you run free around other men when you should be with me. Only with me.”

His voice sounds playful and teasing. Only I can hear the warning.

“We also think that it’s much safer for you to be with Prince Caspian,” adds Jonah.

Right now I don’t feel safe. I feel like an endangered species. “But I—”

“We don’t know how far the news that the prince has found his future queen has spread,” agrees Jorden. “There are people who are looking for you now, Q. They might even be more dangerous than Loup Noir Pack.”

Are they even more dangerous than an angry prince?

“Besides,” Jorden continues, “we’d sleep much better if we know that you’re safe.”

“Oh, she’ll be very safe with me,” assures Caspian. His thumb is drawing circles on my shoulder. My heart is stuttering in my chest.

There’s something bordering on violence just underneath the pleasant smile and charming exterior. It’s feral and possessive. Am I the only one who can see it?

“I appreciate that you’re letting me stay with you, Prince Caspian,” says Jorden.

It’s clear from the look in his eyes that he thinks the sun, the moon, and the stars revolve around the prince.

“Don’t mention it. We’re family now. You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like. There are plenty of rooms,” Caspian announces.

“Get ready for another round of poker with the guys, though. I think Lazarus would like to win his money back,” he adds.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” Jorden replies.

“We’ll see how your luck holds tonight,” Caspian tells Jorden.

“The driver will take you back whenever you’re ready, no matter how late,” he informs Jonah who is probably staying for the game as well.

They continue talking as if I wasn’t there. They sound like old friends. Am I missing something here? Since when did they get so chummy?

I remember just yesterday morning that Caspian and Jonah were glaring at each other like little kids fighting over an ice cream cone. Men are so confusing.

I turn my head to look at the lights, the trees, the buildings, the cars, and the people that we pass. I’m not really listening to their conversation.

I’m listening to the tell in his voice. He’s growing restless. It’s there in the possessive way his fingers are kneading my shoulder and the way he’s tapping my knee.

Once in a while, I steal a glance to find his green eyes already watching me. Lust and anger swirl in the heated stare. There’s a small part of me that’s still scared at the thought of being in his world, but the thought of not having him in my life is unbearable.

I want him. I want his passion, and I want his anger. I want the silly, charming side of him, and I want the cold, wild, and dangerous side of him.

His fire and passion scare me and thrill me.

I’m addicted. I crave his touch and his presence even when he’s raging mad at me and I don’t know what to expect from him like the way he is right now.