Chapter - Lola

Islept like the dead after Nu?ez dragged me back home. A soft, repeating chime helps wake me as I flutter my eyes open. Above me, the arched wooden ceiling is painted the faintest of pinks.

"Good morning, amor," I purr to the castle.

The pink ceiling beams ripple and shimmy, her version of a hello. Across my expansive room, a wall of double doors shakes, the doors opening and shutting on an imaginary breeze.

"What time is it?" I groan. The sun is barely peeking above the turquoise waters of the Bahía de Santa Alaya.

Five creaky chimes ring out from somewhere in the room's depths. I sigh and roll out of bed, pulling to a stand and stretching from side to side. My room is still the same pink and turquoise it was when I was a teen—we've lived in the castle since I was little. I keep thinking that since I'm well past coming of age, I should redo it to be more adultish. But somehow, I can never bring myself to do so.

Striding across the pink-painted wood floor, I step out onto a long, thin balcony that runs the entire length of my suite. A breeze drifts in from the ocean, just visible across the city from the castle. Below me, tall, thin townhomes in every shade of pink, blue, purple, red, and yellow make up the village of Santa Alaya.

Soft music echoes up from somewhere below. That's probably the wolves who own the panadería, baking conchas and all sorts of other delicious treats. I can almost smell the sugar from up here.

A noise behind me draws my attention. The doors on my turquoise armoire swing open. The castle tosses an outfit out—a long cotton ruffled skirt and fitted tank top. I smile and cross the room to pick up the clothes.

Fingering the ruffles, I let my memory pull me back to last night and the amazing green gauze bustle one of the omega seamstresses in town secretly made for me. Smiling, I change and pick my fingers carefully through my boisterous curls. Taking a quick peek in the mirror, I make sure I don't look one-hundred-percent a hot mess before grabbing my bag and guitar and heading for the door. It's time for the rounds I do every morning as part of my duties. Truth be told, it's the one part of being a princess I love—connecting with our packmates in the city. Santa Alaya is so big, it's hard to know them all well. Sometimes I wonder if living in a smaller haven feels different…

I open the door and step into a hall overlooking our center courtyard. Papá's room is directly across the open space from mine. Palms soar up into the sky from the first story, plants spilling out of every crevice and climbing up the round white columns. Oversized agaves placed artfully around the room lend the feeling of the castle being part of the landscape itself. When Papá won the throne, he brought in a designer to bring Santa Alaya into the castle. It never fails to make me nostalgic when I look around.

Heading to my right, I wind through a myriad of sun drenched hallways toward the exit.

Colorful birds swoop in and out of the columns, cawing their delight at flying into another day. I smile as I watch them, only a little jealous that they can spread their wings and disappear into the sky. If I could do that, there would be so many places I could visit.

The guard at the exit door smiles at me from behind a newspaper. "Buenos días, Princesa."

I wave at him as he lifts his comm watch to his lips, speaking quietly. "La princesa ya sale."

I've got all of five minutes before two or three of Nu?ez's team trail me into the city. It's a regular rotation for them, but I've always hated it. Maybe it's just that nothing quite says family like armed guards going everywhere with you. I huff at the thought. I've never felt unsafe in Santa Alaya. Papá smothers me.

Hurrying, I leave the open front gates and jog down the cobblestone street into the residential area, heading toward the bay. On either side of the main road, Calle Santa Alaya, colorful homes rise three and four stories high. Very few monsters are out this early, which is why I like to make my rounds as the sun comes up. Less opportunity for my packmates to stare as guards trail me through my home haven.

Rounding the first corner, I smile at the open doors of La Iglesia Santa Alaya, so named for the patron wolf goddess of all wolf shifters.

"Good morning," I croon, ascending the steps to tickle the carved wooden doors playfully.

The building responds with a series of happy groans, the double front doors shimmying on their hinges. Inside, candles flicker faintly in front of a dais piled high with offerings for our goddess.

I step into the building, my sandals slapping softly against a terra cotta tile floor. Moving past rows of intricately carved wooden benches, I pace to the dais and admire the many offerings others have left. Pan dulce, flowers, even a few plates of dried meat. There are paper notes too, folded in the traditional way to represent a star. They litter the floor, full of monsters' hopes and wishes and prayers.

Taking a few steps to the right, I grab a candle from the offering box and drop a handful of coins in its place. I return to the dais and seat myself in front of the offerings. A small box of matches sits in a tiny hole in the floor, there for those who wish to leave a candle offering for Santa Alaya.

Grabbing a match, I strike it on the floor and light the candle, poured into a tall glass container with an image of Alaya on the front. It never fails to hit me how beautiful she is. Her wolf is black like mine, her ears tapered to long points. Her ears are bedecked with beautifully crafted silver jewelry. A silver medallion with a green gem hangs around her neck.

Setting the lit candle down among many others, I close my eyes and pray for peace and harmony for my people. I pray for good weather for the farmers and happiness for those in troubled times. And when I'm done, I sit quietly for a few minutes, basking in the tangible presence of our beneficent goddess.

Eventually, voices drift in from outside. Santa Alaya is waking up. It's time for me to get going.

Leaving the church, I admire my haven's tropical beauty as I stroll casually through a network of cobblestone roads, all the way to Calle Mercado, the boardwalk facing the bay. In a few hours, a lively market will pop up right on the bay's edge. Vendors sell everything from sleeping potions to blocks of white cotija cheese to Santa Alaya's hallmark silver jewelry. My favorite leather sandals vendor is at the far corner of this market. It's a good thing, too. Santa Alaya's weather is always sunny and eighty-five degrees. I've never worn a closed-toe shoe.

Shops and restaurants line the street, waves washing quietly up on a pink sand shore. Breathing deeply, I search for my wolf, longing for connection. I always feel her so strongly when I walk my city's streets. Perhaps it's the innate sense of serving my people that comes with being the king's daughter. Maybe it's just that she also seems to enjoy our morning rounds.

Either way, when we walk the streets early in the morning, I almost imagine I can hear her voice. Although, that's incredibly rare for our kind. Not even my father can hear his wolf's precise thoughts, and he's the most powerful shifter I've ever met.

I head for my favorite café and order two coffees. This shop sells coffee made from the traditional Santa Alayan beans, grown in the dry hills behind the castle. The depth of flavor is my absolute fave.

The minotaur barista smiles at me as he mixes up the troll whip-infused concoction on my first stop this morning.

His sausage-thick fingers brush mine as he passes me both cups. "Lola. Take me up on that dinner offer, please. I'm learning to cook, if you can believe it."

I beam up into his hopeful, curious gaze. "Good for you, Rafa. But you know I'm married to the music."

His smile grows softer, like he expected the answer. Probably because every time he asks me out, my answer is exactly the same.

It's not like I wouldn't date, if the monster interested me. But my wolf takes no notice of the males in Santa Alaya. If she doesn't care to pay them any attention, then, neither will I. Her instinct has always been spot on.

"Another time, perhaps," he says carefully.

"Perhaps," I agree, winking as I turn from him and exit the cafe's back door. Outside and to the left, a rickety iron staircase leads to a set of luxurious residences Papá built for the older solitary monsters in our community. Most aging shifters live with their families; that's the way of our people, having all generations under one roof together.

But not everyone is lucky enough to have a big family in Santa Alaya. For those who don't, the community home offers what they cannot get otherwise. It's always my first stop.

I ascend and push through a set of carved wooden doors, smiling at the beautiful shifter omega seated at the front desk.

"Princesa, good morning!" she chirps, dipping her head politely.

I smile, even as footsteps behind me announce my guards' arrival. I force my smile even bigger. "How is Lupe today?"

The girl's smile falls a little. "Morose. She's been sitting at the window, looking out at the bay since the sun began to rise."

I lift my chin and nod. It's what I expected. Of all the shifters at the community home, Lupe is my favorite, but her story is sad. Her sons mated and moved away from Santa Alaya, leaving her behind. It's hard to fathom one's children behaving so poorly. I'd slap them if I had ever met them. But that happened a long, long time ago.

I pace through the halls until I reach the open common room. It's empty save for a single, hunched figure seated in front of the window.

"Lupe," I call softly, knowing her excellent hearing will pick up my tones even from this far.

"Don't shout, girl!" she grouses back. "I'm old and falling apart, not deaf!"

"What about caffeinated?" I cross the room and hand her her favorite drink.

She takes it with an appreciative look. "I'm never caffeinated enough, corazón. Thank you." Her dark eyes flick over my shoulder. "I see the nitwits are following as usual."

I tuck a stray lock of white hair behind her tapered ear. "Tsk, Lupe. They're just doing their jobs."

Her smile goes wicked, eyes wrinkling in the corners. "And how was the concert?"

I sigh and flop down into the seat across from her, staring out the window at the turquoise waters of the bay. "I managed to get a full song in, but that's it before Nu?ez showed up."

"Well…fuck," Lupe says.

"Mhm."

She sighs loudly, lifting a middle finger toward the open room behind us. I can only assume my guards stand in the doorway like always. She loves to taunt them. To their credit, they ignore her obvious insults.

"Lupe," I chide again. "Calma, por favor, and tell me what you've been doing since I last visited."

She snorts and takes another sip of her latte. "Oh, you mean since yesterday? You do too much, Lola." Leaning down, she swats playfully at my thigh. It's so grandmotherly, I almost laugh. She's not my grandmother, but she might as well be with that move.

Instead, I feign growly irritation as she lifts her coffee. "Serving my people feels right and good."

"You are your father's daughter," Lupe says softly. "But don't forget that you need to serve yourself as well, Lola."

"I tried," I muse. "I managed five whole minutes of song before Nu?ez dragged me home. That's something, I suppose. Time to start planning my next escape."

Lupe falls silent, and for once, I'm happy to sit quietly with her, sipping our drinks and staring out at the horizon as the sun emerges from the sea. Eventually, I play her some songs while she falls asleep in her chair, her cup dipping to one side as her grip loosens.

I take it from her wrinkled fingers and set it on the windowsill before dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Rest well, my friend," I murmur before turning to leave the room.

In the doorway, my guards stand with even expressions. I can't imagine they enjoy trailing me around any more than I enjoy being followed, but they're good-natured about it.

For the next three hours I make the rounds of the community home. My guards are always patient until lunchtime. Then they start grumbling until I take them to a little spot on the corner that sells shaved meat street tacos.

That's our routine, so it doesn't surprise me when one of the guards bumps me with his hip as we cross from the community home and head toward our next stop. "I'm starving, Princesa. Can we take a break?"

I open my mouth to respond when a voice surprises me, ringing clearly from the other side of Calle Mercado. "Why don't you all head back to the castle? I can keep an eye on the princess."

As a group, we turn to see Papá's Second, Eliel, standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamppost.

Like always, a chill skirts down my spine at the way he looks at me. Eliel is classically handsome—russet skin, dark hair, dark eyes, dimples on either side of a broad, plush mouth. His angular nose tilts slightly up at the end—nearly all the omegas have the hots for him.

But it's the lascivious way those black eyes trail down my body and back up that sets my teeth on edge.

Thankfully, one of the guards comes to my rescue with a quick retort. "It's our job. We're happy to do it, and we have lunch plans, Second." He spits Eliel's title like a cuss word.

Eliel shrugs, waving the guard's comment away. "No matter. I'll join you."

Ugh.

Technically, as Papá's Second, he ranks higher than my guard. They can't tell him no.

But I can.

"No thanks, Second," I say cheerfully, using his title to remind him that he doesn't run this pack.

Eliel steps off the sidewalk and slips both hands into white linen slacks that accentuate the bulge between his thighs. His cock is hard, the swollen edges of the fleshy knot at the base of his penis clearly visible through the thin fabric. He probably thinks I find that hot, that if he shows me what he's packing, I might throw caution to the wind and beg him to knot me.

Gross.

I don't think there's ever been an alpha who appealed to me less than this one.

My guards hover behind me. They work for the crown, not Eliel, but the lines of seniority blur this high up the shifter food chain. Technically speaking, Eliel isn't a threat. I just find him skeezy.

He stops in front of me, so close we're almost touching. Dark eyes travel a path down to my chest and back up, his full lips curling into what he likely thinks is a seductive smirk. "You should really give me a chance, Princesa. I could be so good to you."

Yuck.

I beam brightly and wink at him. "I'm married to the music, Eliel. There's no place in my heart to test out your theory."

His smirk grows into a full, fang-toothed smile. "For now, Lola. But not forever. At some point, you'll be expected to take a mate. You're not getting any younger, you know."

Boiling fury joins the chill traveling down the back of my neck, all the way down my spine as my body violently rejects his suggestion. Still, I know when no reaction is the best reaction. When I say nothing, Eliel chuckles and curls his upper lip backward, showing me his fangs.

"Step away from the princess," one of my guards orders.

Eliel mock salutes and turns away, but he'll be back, I know it. Because that sinister look in his eye? I've seen it before.

Hours later, a knock at my bedroom door draws my attention. "Come in!" I call as I turn. I'm struggling to get the vision of Eliel's commentary out of my head. Fuck, that's the least of my troubles based on the grim look on Nu?ez's face as he enters my room. I suspect I'm about to get an ear chewing from Papá about last night. Seems like today is the day of rough conversations. Not even a morning of rounds absolves me of what I did.

My head bodyguard cuts me a harsh look. Dark circles underscore both of his eyes. "Your father wants to see you immediately."

I cross the room to gaze up into his weathered face. "I'm sorry if I made your job difficult, old friend." My apology comes out as a whisper.

Nu?ez runs one hand through his sun-kissed dark hair. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter now because I'm no longer your head bodyguard."

Shockwaves ripple through me, my mouth dropping open. "What do you mean? You've been with me since I was a child!"

His expression flattens, his nostrils flaring. "Yeah, that was before you planned an entire concert and escaped the castle right under my nose for the millionth time. The king no longer trusts me to guard you, and I don't blame him. Last night was the last straw, Lola."

Oh moons. I bring a hand to my mouth. "Why? What's different this time? Nu?ez, I'm so sorry."

My guard waves the question and apology away. "Get dressed, Lola; let's not keep him waiting."

He steps out as I grab my crown. It's still in the pocket of my skirt from the concert. Shock and shame war within me. I thought through the consequences of what I did, but I never expected Papá to go this far. He never has before, and I've probably snuck out two dozen times in the last decade. He loves to remind me that my future is the people of Santa Alaya, not a musical career, but he's never come down that hard on me for pursuing music.

Two minutes later, I follow my bodyguard through breezy, sunkissed hallways from my suite to my father's office on the far side of the castle. Every archway we pass through shimmies and shakes, almost like a reassuring pat on my back. But by the time Nu?ez and I get to the door to Papá's office, even the castle is quiet.

My heart pounds in my ears as Nu?ez grabs the door handle and swings the whitewashed door open, gesturing for me to enter. I walk quickly down a short hall filled with bookshelves on either side. It opens into the office, a giant open space, the back wall of windows looking out onto the city and the bay.

Papá sits at his desk, a thunderous look on his face. He rises as I enter the vaulted room. A figure kneels to the left of his desk.

Oh fuuuuuck.

My bandmate Leo lifts his head. One eye is swollen and completely shut. A gash through one of his dark brows bleeds heavily, a trail of red dripping into his mouth.

I dash across the room and slide onto my knees in front of him, cradling his face between my hands.

"Lola," he croaks. "I'm fine; it's not that bad."

My father rounds the desk as I spin toward him and glare. His black eyes, the same obsidian shade as mine, move to Leo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

Leo puts his hands over mine, squeezing me gently, then rises and jogs out of the room. I watch in shocked silence before I'm able to face my father.

He leans against the edge of his desk, warning flashing through his expression. "I have begged and pleaded with you to be careful. I have shared with you the political challenges of holding this throne. But you seem bound and fucking determined to flout the rules I put in place to keep you safe."

Fury fills me. Fury for Leo and fury for Nu?ez. I plant both hands on my hips. "I've done this before and you've never come down this hard on anyone. Why is it different now? And what use is holding the throne if it makes you a raging asshole?"

I've never spoken to my father like this, but in my entire life, he's never hurt anyone outside of an official challenge. An alpha's job is to protect his family, not whatever happened in the office before I entered. It's so wrong I resist the urge to scratch at creepy-crawlies skittering over my skin.

He snarls and shoves off the desk, bumping me with his chest, demanding I submit to his wolf's will. His wolf's purple sheen flashes through his irises, a reminder that they're on the same page about this.

How? Why?

My wolf rises inside me, upset and angry and in complete disagreement with our pack alpha's behavior. "What you did isn't okay," I press. "Sobre todo, familia. Leo is our family, Papá."

"No, it's not okay," he says on a hiss. "But I'd do worse to keep you safe."

"I'm not in danger here," I snap.

"Wrong," Father barks, his alpha command a near-physical slap to the face. "Eliel is going to challenge me any day. If he wins, he'll bind you no matter how you feel about the situation."

I reel backward in shock. Eliel?

Eyes wide, I stare at my father. "He wouldn't. Forced bondings are illegal."

"What's legal won't matter because I'd probably be dead," he says roughly. "I've shielded you from some of this, Lola, because I didn't want you to worry. But Eliel won't play fair. I sense it."

I look out the wall of windows. "I didn't realize," I murmur, voice trailing off. "If I had known…"

"I'm not sure you'd have done anything differently," he says, his tone wry. "You've always been strong-willed."

"Not to the detriment of those around me, I hope." I turn to face him again. "What do you need from me? How can I help thwart whatever Eliel is planning?"

Suddenly, my father looks exhausted. His shoulders slump, his eyes hooded. "I need you out of trouble so I can focus fully on Eliel and uncovering what his plan really is. I'm sending you to Richard in Ever. I trust him to keep you safe."

Keep me in line, he means.

I nod slowly. I haven't seen Richard since I was a pup, but he was a staple of my childhood. I understand why Papá wants to send me there, even if it rankles a little.

"I love you," he whispers. "So damn much, mija. I could not stand it if Eliel forced you into something you didn't want. If I fall, I need to know that Richard will be the second line of defense between you and the new king."

I gulp. The idea of my father falling to Eliel is unfathomable. What would happen to Santa Alaya, if Papá fell? Eliel hides a snake's deadliness beneath his simpering smiles. He's not fit to be our king.

"I'll go." I wrap my arms around myself, but Papá pulls me into an embrace, purring the way he has since I was a tiny pup.

"It'll be fine, mija. This is just a precaution, okay? I trust Richard with my life and yours. You'll be as safe as you can be there. And when you get back, we'll talk a little more about the music, hmm?"

He strokes my curls away from my face, tilting my chin up so that I'm looking directly in his eyes. "Please, please do not leave Ever under any circumstances, okay? Promise me, Lola."

"Se lo prometo," I swear.

I promise.