Spare Princess

Grudges

Demir

As I walk down the cemetery, completely aware of the fact that I just shoved a broken girl to the ground, my own spit running down her perfect face, I can’t bring myself to feel sorry for what I just did.

Deep inside I know I overreacted. I know I should be ashamed of my actions. The problem is I can’t find it in me to care. I don’t give a s*hit it’s her grandmother’s funeral, or that her brother is my king and my direct boss. That b*itch ruined my family and I will never find it in me to forgive her. The gods know I will never forget she’s the one responsible for my brother’s death and my mother’s dying of broken heart just a week later… just thinking about it brings old pain and rage inside me, anger that I haven’t felt in years.

What the hell is she even doing here? Wasn’t she banished from Redwind and with a bounty on her head? Every shifter in the country is supposed to be on her tail, yet here she is, walking freely with that sassy smirk on her face and daring to look at me like she wants to devour me.

I hate myself because for a split second the thought that she’s really f*ucking hot passed through my mind. Damn it, my whole being reacted to her. And then I recognised her and that fleeting desire turned to ashes but I can’t deny it was there. It makes shame and remorse rage through me and I hate every second of it. The spirit, living inside of me is livid too but for completely other reasons.

I don’t look back as I get into my SUV and head towards the venue, booked for the wake. I’d be damned if I do, if I feel anything even close to sympathy or want for someone like this woman.

The wake is a spectacle. A farce prepared to serve a purpose and it does. People are talking business instead of memories, convincing me that nobody actually cared about Genevieve Valentine. Not anymore at least. I hope nobody cares about her granddaughter either. I don’t even know why I came, probably old sentiments as my mother used to work for her and held her of high value even though I never saw the appeal.

I leave early, angry with myself because I haven’t stopped thinking of Geneva Valentine the entire time. My brain feeds me images of my hands wrapped around her throat as I squeeze and squeeze and her sky eyes bulge out and she begs me to spare her with tears rolling down her cheeks. I bet she won’t be as perfect anymore on her knees for me. I bet the insolence would leave her face the moment I force her lips open and feed her with my c*ock… oh, the ways I could ruin her…

I hate it. I hate myself for thinking things like that, about someone like this woman. She’s Veronica Valentine’s twin but I’ve never thought of her sister that way.

As the minutes pass by I drive randomly around time trying to calm myself down. I can’t let anger consume me or bad things will happen. Bad things always happen when I don’t control the monster inside me. And right now it’s eating way at my resolve, making my thoughts spiral only because my guard is down. All because of that treacherous b*itch.

It’s the late afternoon when I reach the town’s hall for my briefing with the king and by the time I arrive at his office, I have somewhat managed to put myself back together and shove the unpleasant thoughts away for the sake of my job. After my mission abroad I have to deliver my report, plus the sooner I am done with it the sooner I will be home with my son. And I am sure that the moment I get back home everything else will be completely forgotten. As long as I have Dzhan by my side, I can forget the outside world exists.

The king opens the door before I even get the chance to knock and greets me briefly. I only nod, my eyes scanning his face for any signs of trouble. He looked stone cold and detached during the funeral and the wake but now he seems unhappy and frustrated, and a little sad as his eyes meet mine.

Ever since I was tasked with monitoring him under the previous king’s commands I have been a little overprotective of the man. I’ve seen him at his lowest, darkest moments and I’ve sworn to never let anything bad happen to him ever again. I still feel regrets that I wasn’t there when he was forced to challenge Gabriel Lawrence alone and fight him to the death.

“Demir, did we have an appointment?” He asks distractedly now but steps back to let me pass through.

He remains at the door a moment longer, his eyes scanning the hall but there is no one else there, so he just follows me inside and closes the door quietly behind us.

“Yes, sir, we did have a meeting,” I reply barely able to look at him. Suddenly, I do feel guilty for the way I treated his sister earlier. And for the unclean thoughts I’ve been having about her all day. “If it is not the right time, I can always…”

“No, of course not,” the king waves me off as he leans back into his leather chair, letting out a soft sigh. “You’ve been away for far too long and we don’t need to prolong your assignment by postponing the report. Plus, it’s important how we tackle the trading treaty further and we can’t waste any time to make our next move.”

I am barely listening as he continues on the agenda, my mind going back to that woman, his sister, and the way she looked at me before I walked away from her.

To stop the thoughts I force myself to focus on the present. My eyes remain trained on the man in front of me who looks so much in place here, behind his paperwork and his numerous projects, just working his ass off for his people, like he’s not the most powerful creature to ever walk the land in generations. Like that power is nothing without the hard work.

It requires some getting used to seeing him so invested in his position and his work I suppose. Generations of kings before him have just taken and taken from everyone they could get a hold of just because they were unstoppable with the power bestowed upon them by the gods. I’ve seen it beforehand with the last king and it’s been enough to disgust me for a life time.

And here he is, Victor Valentine, a creature even more powerful than anyone who came before him, caring. Almost making me feel a little bit better that I betrayed the previous king for him. For him and his other sister, Veronica, that is. Today, together they hold the entire valley in their pockets with the grace of true royalties, yet somehow both of them manage to make it seem so effortless, like that’s exactly what they were born to do. Like they don’t mind the work at all.

Victor has done so much for the shifters ever since he claimed the title, and now he’s doing the same for the humans in the town as well, all the while keeping our two worlds completely separate as it has always been and will continue to be till the end of time. Like my brother used to say - humans and shifters are not meant to be in each other’s way. Unless a shifter finds a human baby and decides to keep him of course…

I cough a little, trying to chase the dangerous thought away and take my seat in front of the desk. Then I get busy to report how my mission abroad went, not missing even the slightest detail about my investigation about the northern shifters and their involvement with dark witches.

By the time I am done, I feel exhausted. Not because of the report, I am used to it. My job is dangerous but it brings food on the table and I like it. I am a warrior and carry my title with pride. It’s just that the entire time I speak, I can’t fight away the image of Geneva Valentine, one of my king’s sisters, and the horror and pain in her eyes when I spit on her.

It’s not even about her. It’s about the fact that I let my emotions get the better of me when all I’ve ever done for the last seven years is try and keep myself in line. For Dzhan. Anything to make sure my kid grows up to be a decent person unlike his old man.

“That’s perfect,” the king tells me after I’m done. “I suggest you brief the special team about what to do next and take the rest of the week off. You deserve it,” he continues and I try my best to listen, to present myself just as unaffected as ever.

“Thank you, sir,” I reply with a curt not, even though excitement is already running through me. The job is done and I get to see my kid for longer than just a few days. Ever since Dzhan came into my life, I don’t do field work anyway. That’s why I was reduced to a mere guard s***h baby sitter while I served with the last king. At least the current one uses my services for far more important things, taking full advantage of my special skills when needed.

Also, I like that he uses my actual name when he addresses me. He doesn’t find it too ‘ethnic’ or problematic or any of the other s*hit Gabriel Lawrence used to say about my origins. Called me f*ucking Albert for god’s sake.

“I will be expecting you back at the beginning of next month. Send my best regards to Lady Eda and Mr. Dzhan,” the king’s polished voice manages to reach me through the thick downpour of my thoughts and his words make my heart speed up. God, how I long to go back home and hug my kid. Just let his sweet laughter wash away all the dirt I cover myself with on a daily basis. Make me forget what a horrible person I am.

With a promise that I will bring Dzhan with me next time, I leave my king to his work and his grievances. I am at the parking lot when my phone buzzes in my pocket and the screen lights up with Dzhan’s little baby face as my homepage, his wide crooked smile splitting the screen in half. All my worries disappear on the spot as I accept the video call.

“Daddy, when are you coming home?” My son asks with his crooked voice and my heart melts at the sound of it. My poor baby couldn’t speak up until last year and ever since that first word he uttered at just five, listening to him talk is my favourite thing in the world.

“Dzhanny, I told you to leave your father alone while he’s at work,” My grandmother scolds from somewhere behind him.

“Let him be, lady Eda,” I tell her as I slip inside the driver’s seat and put the phone in the holder so I can drive and talk to them at the same time. “I am done anyway. The king sends his regards to both of you.”

“King Victor?” Dzhan’s face lights up immediately and I wish I could teleport myself back home so I could squish his little plump cheeks as soon as possible. They look so full and cute when he’s smiling like he doesn’t have a care in this world.

He wasn’t always like that. Before he started to talk he was more like a shadow of his current self. It used to break my heart every time I looked at him and was met with a blank soulless stare. Made me feel like I was failing him every single day in which I couldn’t help him because I didn’t know how. In my desperation I’d take any job, do whatever it took to bring him more doctors, more diagnosis, feeling like I was falling when each and everyone of them told me there was nothing wrong with him, physically at lest. Mentally? That was another bag of crap.

And then, one day in the middle of last summer, a year and a half ago, he just woke up from his afternoon nap, ran to my office giggling, his little stuffed giraffe in one hand, and his blanket in the other, and asked me if I wanted to come play with him.

Gods, the way I cried that day. I just held him and cried and laughed. In my forty-five years on this earth I have never cried like this before and never have since - I didn’t cry when my brother got killed in the war that Geneva Valentine started or when I learned of my mom’s passing from grief so soon after. But I cried that day. Because my kid called me dada.

“What did he say?” Dzhan asks me now and I smile widely as I navigate the SUV through downtown, all my dark thoughts and grudges forgotten. “Did he tell you you did a good job?”

“Of course he did. He even gave me the rest of the week off as a reward,” I reply, returning another wide smile as my heart gets lighter and lighter with every passing second.

“You will be home for the holiday?” Dzhan squeaks with happiness, clapping with his little hands joyfully and my heart clenches. Because he loves me like I am some kind of a hero too while right now I feel like anything but.

“Of course I will be,” I smile at him, feeling stupid for no goddamn reason.

“And we will be making cookies together like last year?”

“You’d bet we will, buddy.”

Dzhan starts jumping with excitement, the camera bobbing up and down with him and I finally shift my eyes to the road.

“Did you tell the king we will make him cookies too?” He asks, giggling with excitement which makes his voice sound raspier than usual. Almost metallic. A side effect of him not being able to speak for so long but I don’t care. The fact that he manages to pronounce each and every word so damn perfectly despite his disability is a miracle on its own and I love him even more for how strong he is. The toughest little kid on the block.

“No, because you are going to come with me and surprise him with your cookies. I got to go now, kid, I will be there in five.”

I reach out to disconnect the call as I pull to a stop at the traffic light, but instead of doing it, I just stare outside, my hand frozen in the space between.

“See, nanna, dada looks like he saw a ghost,” my kid giggles again on the other end of the line but I am barely listening.

She’s there, on the side-walk, her eyes wide and sad as she walks down, angrily swiping off a single tear before she notices me watching her, and then she stops in her tracks, her gaze turning into ice.

Geneva f*ucking Valentine. Twice in one day.

The wind is blowing in her long chestnut brown hair, those cerulean red-rimmed eyes of hers boring into mine with hatred and I can’t help but notice the unusual glow in them, something gold and orange which reminds me of fire. The look on her face tells me she’s ready to burn the entire world if it means I will burn with it.

The feeling is completely mutual. Just as we stare into each other at the traffic light, I realize one thing, and it defines all I’ll ever be. Just as wicked as her. Because, help me gods, but if given a chance, I will destroy this woman.