CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

K ate stood staring at him like he was the Antichrist, and he supposed he was looking back at her the same way.

“This has to be the worst moment of my life,” she said, turning in circles.

He walked to the bed and retrieved his shirt, which seemed ridiculous, given the circumstances.

“Um, thanks.”

She flung her hands in the air. “You know what I mean.”

Brayden nodded. “Before we—shit, I’m not sure we should do this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know. Hell, I’m beginning to wonder if we have a choice. Am I mad?”

The queen dropped her face into her hands and groaned.

He wanted to go to her, but it seemed wrong to touch or comfort her.

“I know, I know.”

Brayden paced the room. Images of what they would soon do filled his mind, creating a churn in his stomach. This was wrong.

Humans said they found cheating immoral, but many of them still did it without any conscience. For vampires, it was different. To bed another when mated was unfathomable. To bed another’s mate was unthinkable. To bed your brother’s mate, despicable.

To bed the king’s mate, suicidal.

And yet, here they were. The queen and the prince. Unable to look at each other, let alone follow through with the goddamned act.

He sighed.

Kate finally looked up at him, then away, then back at him, then away. “So, my cycle is...yeah. We can, so let’s...God, let’s just get this over with.”

Heart pounding in the back of his throat—somehow, it had made its way up there—he tried to speak.

Couldn’t.

Tried to move.

Couldn’t.

Did he really have a choice? Of course he did. He could let his brother die without an heir, take the throne, and be the king for eternity. Which he really fucking didn’t want to do it.

He looked at Kate, nodded, and stepped toward her.

He had to do this. To provide her with a child the world would think was his brother’s. Assuming he could, it would bring joy to his brother and the kingdom around the world. An heir to the throne when they came of age.

“Okay.”

She swallowed. Nodded.

“So, we do this now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He looked around at his room, wondering if he should have prepared for this moment. How did one prepare for something this fucked up? What was he going to do? Lay rose petals and light candles? Fucking hell, this was a nightmare.

“I’m really not sure how to do this?” He glanced at the queen. “And before you crack a joke, you know what I mean.”

She slumped on the bed.

“I mean”—he sat beside her—“do you want me to...shit, I don’t know...kiss you?”

Kate looked up at him and a tear fell down her face.

“Oh man, please don’t. You’re making me feel like an asshole. This is hard for me as well.”

“Sorry, I know. God, I know,” she said, wiping the tear away. “Okay, let’s just be really clinical about this.”

He nodded. “Yes. Right. Good idea.”

What did that even mean?

He dug through his mental manual of the birds and the bees. Facts: she needed to be wet; he needed to be hard.

“So, we take care of ourselves?” he asked.

She glanced at him.

“I mean...I can help. If you want,” he added, not sure that was true.

“Sure, yeah, maybe. Can you please turn the lights down more?”

It made no sense because they were vampires, but even the low light didn’t feel comfortable for such an occasion.

Brayden removed his shirt and pants and dead bolted the door. He turned as Kate untied her dress and placed it on the chair next to the bed. Without looking at him, she lay on the bed and removed her bra.

Fuck.

He climbed on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. She glanced at his boxers, then up at him.

“Give me a moment.” She nodded in response and slipped her fingers into her panties.

Jesus, were they really doing to do this?

Brayden watched the movement under the silk. He gripped his cock and began stroking it until it got hard. He was a sexual being; it wasn’t difficult for him to get an erection, though it certainly didn’t mean he was happy about it.

His chest tightened as he tried to block out any rational thoughts and his conscience. He knew the argument for and against what they were about to do—what they were doing—and the decision had been made.

This would all be over soon. Except it wouldn’t, would it? The memory would last forever. A child would remind them every day.

He heard Kate’s heart rate increase and slid down the bed to lie flush with her. Laying a hand on her stomach, he slowly moved his fingers up toward her breasts.

Their eyes met.

Suddenly he froze.

Those eyes. The wrong eyes.

Hell, he’d had sex with hundreds of females in his long life.

Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, red eyes. He’d seen them all. Lust, passion, desire for power, desire to control, desire to be controlled, and desire to lose control.

Millions of eyes.

The problem wasn’t that they were Kate’s, although yes, that was all kinds of fucked up. No, it was that the eyes staring back at him weren’t Willow’s.

Fuck.

What if she was his mate? If she was, he’d be betraying her as well, and somehow, despite his love for his brother and his allegiance to the crown, this was worse.

He scrunched his eyes and flung his arm over his face, groaning. “I’m sorry, Kate.”

She’d already climbed off the bed, and by the time he opened his eyes, she was dressed.

“Hey.” He needed to say more, to explain.

“Stop. I’m surprised we got this far, to be honest.” She looked down at the floor before glancing back. “Thank you for trying, Brayden. Let’s never speak of this again. To anyone.”

“You have my word.”

The door closed behind her. Brayden let out the biggest sigh of his life.

“Fucking hell.”

Could he have followed through if it weren’t for Willow? He’d never know. Right now, Brayden had one big reality to face.

He stepped into the shower to wash away the near sin, and afterward, he would have a few hours’ sleep. Then he needed to figure out the rest. Fast.