Chapter 35

35

KILLIAN

T he last twenty-four hours have been hectic. My wolf is beyond distraught, and I'm both physically and mentally exhausted. Between recovering from the after-effects of the attack, staving off the steady stream of alphas and council members coming to confess their sins, and lack of sleep, I'm beyond tired and fed up.

And the only bright spot I've had in my days since returning as prince—my mate—is suffering. I can feel her distress, like a constant thrum of anxiety in my veins, and it's slowly driving my wolf to despair.

He does not agree with my decision to stay away from Charlotte until this mess is sorted out, lest I give anyone an inkling we aren't laying the blame squarely at her door.

I've set up home in my office, sleeping on the uncomfortable leather couch last night as penance, because I couldn't bear to be alone in my luxurious bed while Charlotte slept on a prison cot under the same roof. Ish. Guilt and self-loathing eat away at me, as I battle with leaving her all alone in a cold cell, even if it is for her own safety.

At least, if I'm here through the night, working myself to the bone and being miserable, I feel like I'm doing something other than lounging around and enjoying my freedom while she toils downstairs. The fact that I snuck some good food from the kitchen and sent it down to her doesn't do much to assuage my shame.

What kind of mate am I, leaving her in conditions like that? But at the same time, what choice do I have?

Theo assures me he's been checking on her regularly, and that she's fine, if not a little bored and frustrated. From what I can feel through our weak connection, he's giving me the rose-tinted version.

But Charlotte's strong, and while she might hate me for it, nobody can get to her where she is.

Theo's adamant that Charlotte wouldn't have anything to do with my attack, so I trust him to take care of her adequately, even as I feel the familiar pang of jealousy at their close-knit bond. He's been down there to speak to her, comfort her, assure her everything will be okay.

I've done none of the things a good mate should do.

Except, am I a good mate? Even if she wasn't locked in a dungeon, I still haven't publicly claimed her, marked her, told her how important she is, or figured out a way for us to be together without endangering my father or her.

"Fuck!" I curse, shoving away the list of attendees for the ball that Elodie and Edmund insisted I review. I don't care who's coming. Let them do their worst. I just want this over with.

I've tried to recall more details about what happened, but my memories remain fuzzy. All I can remember is the soft hiss of something moving quickly through the air, and then my legs crumbling underneath me.

It's unnerving that I was felled that easily. In a proper fight, nobody will defeat me, but against cowardly underhanded tactics, I'm as vulnerable as the next man.

The only other thing I remember is Charlotte's scent. It was strong, as if she was standing right there, filling my nostrils, and none of it makes sense. That was the reason I didn't react quickly enough to someone else's presence near me.

I thought it was her.

I can't even stomach the idea that she could have had anything to do with this. Every instinct inside me screams that it can't be true, and yet there's a tiny, scientific part of my brain that wonders.

Why else would I have scented her if she wasn't out there?

Could her wolf have been so angry at the idea of me leaving her, or worse, severing the bond completely, that she would have done something stupid out of spite? Maybe even without the human side of Charlotte knowing?

That doesn't seem like my Charlotte, she's so in control, but I also can't discount the idea. Her mother was going to set her up with a cruel alpha as punishment for standing between myself and Elodie. Could Charlotte have acted out, desperate not to be thrown into such an awful union?

I'd like to think not, but I don't know. I just don't know.

Fear can be a powerful motivator.

I'm on my feet and moving before I even realise where I'm going. I have to see her. I need to ask her to her face what happened, because I can't think about anything else.

"This is a bad idea," Ryker murmurs as he trails me to the dungeon entrance.

"Just stay outside and warn me if anyone comes along." I'm needlessly short with Ryker, but my wolf can't tolerate anyone telling us that seeing our mate is a bad idea.

"Yes, sir," he says quietly, giving me some side eye as he turns his back to the door and takes up his position guarding the entrance.

The heavy door creaks as I pull it closed behind me, wanting to make sure I have privacy for this conversation. Because it's not going to be a pleasant one.

"So, you finally came," Charlotte whispers as I steal closer.

My chest aches as I follow her scent down the dark, dingy corridor to her cell. The bare concrete walls, the lack of sunlight… somehow, it's even bleaker down here than I remembered.

When I step in front of the iron bars and peer into the cell, Charlotte's lying on her back on the pathetically thin cot mattress, facing away from the door, staring at the ceiling.

"I should have come sooner," I say, not beating around the bush. "How are you?"

Charlotte's laugh is cold and mirthless. "How am I?" She twists her neck so she can look backward over her shoulder toward me. "You have some nerve asking me that."

My wolf bristles at the way she speaks to me, not used to being challenged. But she's right to be upset with me. This place is cold, damp and miserable.

"I can't just let you out. People will ask questions, and…" I press my lips together, trying to explain my reluctance to just admit what we are. "If I tell them you're my mate, your dreams of being on Zane's team, of leading a quiet life, they're all gone."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Charlotte's expression is one of utter frustration. "You haven't listened to a word I've said."

Not loving the accusation, I step closer, wrapping my arms around my chest to stop myself from touching the silver on the bars.

"I have. You don't want this life. If anyone finds out you're mine, your choice is gone. You'll never be able to live a normal life again, at least, not anywhere close to home."

"You're an idiot," she announces, swivelling back around to look at the wall rather than me.

Nobody calls me an idiot, or anything bad, ever. My wolf baulks at the suggestion, but I hesitate to argue because Charlotte isn't just saying it to get a reaction.

"You're so hellbent on returning home and leaving me behind that you haven't heard what I'm really saying." She throws her hands out. "You definitely wouldn't have left me down here. I would never do that to you ."

I glare angrily at the gate, wishing I could rip it off its hinges and get to her. "Look at me, Charlotte."

Defiant as always, she refuses to turn her head, staring blankly at the wall.

"I can't bring you to Ireland. I want to, but I can't . My dad… he's still alive."

Charlotte stiffens, and her eyes dart to the side as she processes that nugget of information.

"And you think I'm a danger to him? Or that I'd tell someone?"

"No!" Fuck, how has she turned this into a slight against her. Pacing, I bury my fingers in my hair and tug at it. "Someone might follow us. He's weak, dying, Charlotte. And I just need to get this fucking sorted and get back before he…"

That's why I can't have her anywhere near tonight. Because if something does happen, I can't cope with anyone else close to me getting hurt.

"I won't get hurt," she whispers. "I can help protect you, Killian. That was the plan. Just stick with the plan."

This damn bond. She can feel my fear, and I don't like it.

"You're right. You won't get hurt. Because you're going to be staying right here until I can be certain it's safe."

I'm fully aware that I'm not acting rationally, but from what I can tell, meeting your mate sends all rational thought out the window. And spending this much time together, getting a taste of her but not being able to claim her, has pushed me right to my limit.

"Killian," Charlotte begins, rolling onto her side and lifting herself up on her elbow to look at me beseechingly. "You don't even have to bring me to the ball. Just…"

Shaking my head, I back away, needing to get out of here before the bond tricks me into letting her out and pulling her back into this mess.

"Just nothing. I'm sorry, but this is for the best."

Charlotte's blinks at me, stunned. "Don't do this," she warns. "I'll never forgive you if you leave me trapped down here again."

What I'm doing might not be the best for us, because I know she's going to be pissed, but it's the best thing for her. As she pulls herself up, ready to come closer to the bars and talk sense into me, I turn on my heel and walk away.

Something is going to happen at the ball. I can feel it in my bones. I just hope that we're able to cope with whatever it is without anybody getting seriously hurt.

One thing's for sure. I'm not going to risk Charlotte being anywhere near it.

"Killian!" she calls, her pleas echoing down the empty corridor.

I ignore her and the wolf howling inside me, begging me to go back.

Whether she hates me right now or not, she's still my mate. The most important thing is that she's safe, and where could be safer than being locked away in a part of the palace that most people don't even know exists. Even if it makes my skin crawl, and my throat burns just to think of her sitting miserable down here, probably hating me, thinking I've abandoned her.

Being the future king isn't easy. Dad always said it's about putting everyone else first, and what you want last.

I've never felt the truth of those words as much as I do right now.