Chapter 8 #2
Gareth and Lucien walk at my sides, but they’re not really walking, they’re stalking after the couple, completely enraged.
I don’t ever actually think I’ve seen Lucien like this.
He’s practically foaming at the mouth. Over a girl.
And Gareth? I’ve seen him angry. Hell, he’s angry more than he feels anything else.
But jealousy? This is a new emotion for him.
They snag a place at a table that doesn’t leave room for us. We shift, sliding into another table that gives us a complete view of Harper and her man. Tesson slides into a random spot between dragon riders, looking nearly as pissed off as we are.
What follows is one of the worst hours of my life. I watch as she touches him, talks to him, laughs with him, and it’s like a knife turning in my gut. Fuck, I think a knife in the gut would be less painful than watching her with him.
If we’re forced to marry, I have no doubt it’ll break her heart.
The way she looks at Arthur… I doubt she could ever look at us that way.
Not that I blame her. Arthur is obvious with his adoration of her.
His eyes seem constantly glued to her, his smile genuine, and there’s always some part of him touching her.
I’m not sure we could ever wear our feelings on our sleeves like that.
No one has ever shown us how to be that way.
This man… he’s not broken the way we are, and it shows.
My stomach sinks. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d thought Harper would be lucky to be with us, that she could have no better husbands than princes, but a title alone isn’t what would make us good partners.
In all other ways, we’d come up severely lacking.
“Have you ever seen her so happy?” I ask quietly.
They don’t need to ask me who I’m talking about. For once, we’re not exactly hiding the fact that Harper’s presence is consuming us.
Lucien pushes his food around on his plate, reminding me to eat. “No. Apparently, that peasant makes her smile.”
Gareth seems to choke down a bite of his food. “They have a history together.”
“You think it’s one of those stories where they’ve loved each other since they were children?”
“Yes,” Gareth answers, the word dark and tortured.
“How do we compete with that?”
Lucien finally tears his gaze from her to me. “There is no competition. Our dragons will choose each other, and we’ll end up together. Peasant boy doesn’t have a chance with her.”
It’s the first time Lucien has sounded like he wants Harper to be his.
It should shock Gareth and I, but it doesn’t.
Somewhere along the line we’ve started seeing Harper as ours.
It’s a notion that we pretended to be bothered by in the beginning, but things have started to change with us.
And I blame it on our dragons. No one becomes this possessive over a woman without some magical, undeniable force at play.
“Do you think she’ll resent us for ruining her relationship?”
Lucien huffs. “Who cares if she does?”
I hesitate, then decide to hell with it. “I do.”
Gareth looks at me, then back at her. It’s clear he agrees with me.
I know we’ve all become twisted men, especially when it comes to love, but I don’t think any of us want to force a woman to be with us.
The idea actually makes me feel sick. Harper needs to choose us, not because of our father, or our dragons, but because she wants to choose us.
Or is such a thing even possible?
Lucien softens his words. “She has got to feel the same thing we’re feeling because of our dragons. Maybe she loved that boy once upon a time, but she’ll forget about him, the same way we’ve forgotten about other women.”
It’s an admission I never thought any of us would make, but he’s telling the truth. We’ve forgotten about all other women. She’s our obsession. Our possession. Something we can’t resist.
The bell tolls, and my gaze is locked on Harper and Arthur as they stand.
Will they try to go to her room now? Will we have to beat the shit out of a man she cares for to make certain he doesn’t touch her?
I can’t imagine she’ll appreciate that much, but the alternative is an impossible thing to bear.
“Prince Alaric.” A dragon rider steps in my way as I come around the table, and I see that he has a group of men behind him.
“Yes, Lord Wyler?”
My brothers look at the man in irritation.
“There has been a lot of talk about the Hollowborn’s offer of peace. The men and I would appreciate hearing your thoughts on what the future might look like. As protectors of the realm, we hesitate thinking about a future in which we’re supposed to see the Hollowborn as allies.”
I sigh, but decide to be honest. “My brothers and I have spent little time thinking about the Hollowborn’s offer or what that kind of future would look like, because we don’t believe there will ever be peace with the Hollowborn.
Those soulless bastards would only ever make an offer of peace if they had some kind of plan up their sleeve.
So, whether our father accepts their offer of peace or not, we doubt it’ll last long. ”
There is relief in all the men’s faces, and Lord Wyler’s voice shows that relief. “Thank you, Prince Alaric. That does much to relieve our worries.”
They head out of the dining hall, and I turn to where Harper was… except, she’s gone. My spine stiffens, and my gaze slides around the room, but she and Arthur are nowhere in sight.
“Fuck,” I say.
Gareth and Lucien start pushing their way through the dragon riders, and we’re nearly in a run. Harper and Arthur are gone. Alone. Probably back to her room.
If we find her in a compromising position, that asshole is dead.