4. Chapter 4
Prince Dame
Years Ago
The weight of the entire Eze tribe sat on my shoulders, but my eyes were pinned to the only thing in the arena that mattered.
I had prepared for this youth tournament for years.
On Okoye Island, the rules of succession were clear: the prince who won the trials would earn the first right of courtship, putting him first in line to marry the future Queen.
I wanted to make my father proud. I wanted to cement my family's legacy. But more than anything, I wanted her.
Princess Adanna Okoye
By the time the tournament even started, she was already a legend on the training grounds. An undefeated shadow floating around the ring, beating the hell out of guys twice her size before the rest of us could even warm up.
It was bad enough that she was better than every single one of us, but the way she moved was insane. Man, it was straight-up torture.
She was so damn fine it made my heart ache.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek and stare at the dirt just to keep from staring at her ass every time she walked past the racks.
She was built totally different from the other girls at court.
She didn't have that delicate, soft look; she had powerful muscles, with some dangerous thighs and a figure so curvy it almost didn't make sense.
Shit, even her love handles were sexy as hell, just a hint of soft curve resting right over those tight hips to make a guy completely lose his mind.
And her face was ridiculous. She wore her hair in this short pixie cut that hugged her skull, setting off those high cheekbones and those almond-shaped, dark brown eyes. Eyes that looked straight through you like you were nothing more than a warm body waiting to be put in the ground.
I knew she was dangerous. I knew she’d probably snap my wrist off if I gave her the wrong look. But sitting there on the wooden benches with my heart slamming against my ribs, watching the sweat glisten off her neck while she strapped on her sparring guards... I was completely hooked.
I’d spent the last three months practically living in the iron yard, lifting until my chest and shoulders were bursting out of my shirts.
I was fueled by the hope that she’d notice how much size I’d put on.
Unfortunately, she never gave me a second glance.
Whenever she walked past, her eyes slid right through me like I was made of glass.
The morning air over the Sands of the Vanguard was filled with coastal humidity and the bite of salt water. The amphitheater was roaring, packed to the brim, while the seven tribal flags whipped violently in the ocean wind.
Then Adanna stepped out onto the central firing range for the first trial: rifle precision. She didn't look nervous. She didn't look excited. She looked like she was completely bored with the tournament.
Before the instructor’s starting flag even finished dropping, she moved.
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack.
It was over in the blink of an eye.
Five targets dropped before the dust cleared the air. She didn't even break a sweat before she lowered her rifle. Her chest barely rose, ignoring the thousands of people screaming her name.
“Princess!”
“Go Princess Adanna!”
“Okoye Princess!”
Beside me, my father took one look at my gawk-mouthed face and brought his hand straight down onto the back of my skull.
"Get your head out of your ass and into the game, boy!" he barked, his voice booming over the roar of the stadium.
I winced but I straightened up immediately and slammed my fist hard against my chest. "I'm ready!"
I unbuckled my breastplate and tossed it in the dirt. I stood there in my tactical tank top, flexing my shoulders so she could see all those double shifts in the yard paying off. I was going to win my bracket, and I was going to look good doing it.
I stepped to the line, let my instincts take over, and emptied the magazine.
Crack-crack-crack-crack.
Clean shots hit every single mark. The crowd blew up as they cheered me on.
“Prince Eze!”
“Future King!”
“Go Eze tribe! Go!”
I spun my rifle with an arrogant flourish, slung it over my shoulder, and snapped my eyes right to her.
She was actually looking at me this time.
My chest swelled up like a balloon as we locked eyes. Feeling totally invincible, I raised my hand and gave her this little wave.
Adanna stared at me with those hypnotic eyes.
Judging by her deadpan stare, my perfect streak didn't mean a damn thing to her. She turned her back to take a slow sip of water. My face burned hot. I shoved my hand into my pocket and looked away, hiding my embarrassment while my old man muttered under his breath about having an idiot for a son. I wanted to break through that icy mask so bad, but it seemed like I couldn’t.
Next up was the jungle race, a brutal three-mile sprint through mud, steep cliffs, and thick vines. Within two minutes, it was just me and her, leaving the rest of the pack in the dust.
Adanna moved like a panther. She didn't scramble; she flowed over wet rocks with beautiful agility, and her thick thighs drove her up the incline.
I pushed my lungs until they burned, trying to make a move, but every time I tried to pass, she casually shifted her weight and cut off my line.
She crossed the finish line two seconds ahead of me, landing like a feather.
I crashed into the grass like a bag of bricks, gasping for air while staring up at her in awe.
By afternoon, the heat was suffocating for the third stage: the debate before the elders. I stood at my podium, trying to sound confident while arguing tribal border concepts. Then Adanna stepped up, and she completely annihilated the room.
Her voice was low, smooth, and calm. Her tone was dark velvet, and made the hair on my arms stand up. I wasn't even listening to the economic strategy she was laying out; I was completely lost.
Hypnotized.
I couldn't stop staring at her mouth. The wet sheen on her full bottom lip every time she paused for a breath, the way her tongue caught her teeth when she hit a hard consonant—it was driving me crazy. The elders were actually paying attention to her numbers, but I couldn’t.
Everybody at court talked shit about her behind closed doors.
Said she was a mean bitch, too heavy, too dangerous, not soft or delicate like a noble girl ought to be.
They were fucking idiots. I was fiending for every single inch of her.
I couldn't stop tracking the soft weight of her belly resting over her belt or the way her tunic stretched tight across her chest.
I wanted to drag her behind the marble podium right then, grab two fistfuls of those hips, and shove my mouth onto hers until she stopped talking.
I wanted to bite that full lip just to see if she'd fight me on it.
She could play the icy, arrogant monster all she wanted.
The second she was legally mine, I was locking my bedroom door, getting her out of those clothes, and putting my hands all over every inch of that body until she was shaking.
My blood was running hot, but my trousers felt too tight as she wrapped up her closing statement and stepped back down.
Needless to say, she won again.
Then came the final stage: the sword duel.
The crowd was roaring, but as we stepped into the stoned ring, the noise faded into a dull hum. It was just the two of us. I gripped my weapon until my knuckles turned white, watching her slide into a stance.
"Don't hold back, Prince," she murmured, her voice carrying that mocking edge that drove me insane.
"I wouldn't dream of it," I grinned. My heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but the adrenaline made me bold. "What’s wrong, princess? Can’t fight without your armor?"
Adanna froze.
For the first time in my entire life, she matched my stare dead-on.
Without taking her eyes off mine, her hands went to the straps of her chest plate.
She unbuckled the leather, letting the thick gear slide off her shoulders and thudded into the dirt.
She stood there in just her dark training tank top, her bare shoulders gleaming under the harsh island sun.
The crowd's roar shook the very stone beneath our feet, but Adanna didn't shrink back.
Steel crashed against steel, and the roar of the arena washed out as we locked blades.
She was so quick on her feet. Her strikes came in a blurring, relentless streak of slashes, but I had pounds of raw muscle on her. I braced myself, blocked a high, vicious swipe, and stepped directly into her guard, crowding her space.
Our bodies slammed together, chest to chest. Feeling her plush frame against mine sent a shockwave to my gut. I looked down into her eyes, so close I could see the golden flecks swimming in her dark irises.
"You'd look a whole lot cuter if you smiled," I murmured, giving her my best smug grin.
Something in Adanna went pitch black.
The air hissed out of her nose, and switched up. She came at me hard. She backed me up so fast, my boots slipped in the dirt.
I threw my sword up to keep her blade from taking my head off.
My timing was off.
My blade swiped hard across her face.
The stadium died. Thousands of screaming people cut off, leaving a silence so heavy it pressed on my eardrums.
Adanna stumbled back a step, tilting her head. A straight line of dark crimson bubbled up along her cheek, and the blood slowly trickled down the soft curve of her jawline.
From the sidelines, her servants and medics broke formation, sprinting onto the ring.
But Adanna just raised a hand. She didn't look at them. She kept her hand up, freezing them in their tracks, and slowly turned her head back to face me.
The mocking, arrogant stare she usually carried was completely gone. She raised her sword with a stilled hand, and slid back into her stance.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A cold spike of dread hit my stomach.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Don't be," she whispered.
"You wanna get that checked out?"
She lunged at my face, matching my question with a strike.
Her strikes were so heavy and wild I barely had time to register them. The force of her attack beat down my practice in seconds. Before I could even attempt a counter, she swept my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, and the wind was knocked out of my lungs.
I looked up, and my heart sank.
Adanna stand over me. She dropped her sword, and her hand flew down to her ankle. She pulled a serrated dagger from her boot holster and plunged it straight down toward my groin.
I screamed, trying to scramble backward in the dirt, but she was too fast. She pinned me down as the blade came down. I twisted my hips frantically at the last second, but the blade caught the inner flesh of my thigh.
A sharp, shattering agony erupted through my leg. It felt like white-hot liquid fire spreading through my veins.
"Adanna!" I choked out, the pain blinding me.
She pulled the blade out, but her face was expressionless.
Then, she raised her hand to strike again.
Before the blade could fall a second time, Chief Idris vaulted over the arena barrier.
She grabbed Adanna from behind and locked her arms, dragging her backward.
Adanna was jerking and twisting violently in Idris's iron grip, her unblinking eyes still locked onto me, trying to break free.
I clutched my bleeding thigh as the red pool spread across my trousers. The pain was so excruciating, the tears of frustration and shock threatened to spill over my eyelashes. I had thought she was just a little stiff, a little spoiled, a little tough around the edges.
But she was an unhinged, cold-blooded monster who had just tried to stab my dick off in front of the entire island. The medics reached me, lifting me onto a stretcher as I kept my eyes on her still fighting to get free.
I would kill her if she ever came close to me again. I meant that shit with every fiber of my being. Fuck the Okoye alliance, and fuck the throne.
That girl needed to be locked in a cage.