FELIPE HAD NEVER imagined coming to Verloren. Especially not without armed guards. Or an entire battalion. Not considering the relations between the two countries. It was one of the many reasons he had wanted Briar in the first place. She was a convenient human shield. One that forced the nations to be friendly.
But he was coming now as an enemy, with no defenses. With nothing. Nothing except a whole lot of darkness inside him that he wanted so desperately to shine a light on.
Briar’s light.
Whether he deserved it or not, that was what he was here for.
He didn’t expect a hero’s welcome, but he didn’t expect to be put in chains the moment he showed up at the palace, either. And yet he was. He also allowed it, because the last thing he could afford was the kind of scandal that would erupt if he committed an act of violence in a foreign palace.
And he also couldn’t afford to do anything that Briar might disapprove of.
Especially not with her father, the king, looking on as he was led into the palace throne room.
“King Felipe,” he said. “It is a surprise to see you. You will forgive the precautions. But last time you were around a member of my family without chains, you took her against her will.”
He did not bother to correct the king by saying that last time he had been around the man’s daughter he’d been the one to tell her not to return. And that before that she’d been in his arms—in his bed—willingly.
Felipe didn’t want to die. Not today.
Perhaps after he met with Briar, perhaps if she rejected him. But not before he had the chance to try.
“I welcomed you to my palace without chains,” Felipe pointed out.
“I was also invited. What is your business here?”
“I’m here to see the princess.”
“You’re here to claim a debt that isn’t yours to claim, and was never meant to extend to my daughter,” the older man said, standing. “I refuse. Even if it means war. I should have done that years ago.”
“I am not here to claim her, as a payment or otherwise. I am here to speak to her. I’m here to tell her...”
“Here to tell me what?”
He looked toward the doors that led in deeper to the palace and saw Briar standing there. It was strange to see her dressed so casually. Wearing just dark jeans and a gray T-shirt, her hair loose and curly, her face void of makeup.
Strange, and yet she was even more beautiful to him now than she had been in the most beautiful of ball gowns. Because this wasn’t a memory. This was now. She was here standing before him, and he had made a decision.
That made her the most beautiful she’d ever been to him. It made this the most beautiful moment, in a world that had—to this point—been mostly darkness and pain for him.
“I am in chains,” he said, lifting his wrists to show her.
“Oh, well...good. Now you’ll have an idea of what it’s like to be held against your will.” She crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side, her expression serene.
“Is there a chance, as I am in chains, I might speak to you alone? I can’t do anything in this state, after all.”
Her father’s expression turned sharp. “Absolutely not.”
Briar held up her hand. “Yes. I need to speak with him. I need to hear what he has to say.”
The old king paused then looked at his guards. “Let us go. Briar, if you have need of us, you know what to do.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Once the king and his henchmen had exited the room, Felipe turned his focus back to Briar. “He called you Briar.”
“Yes. I’m not Talia. I...explained that to them yesterday. I need to be...me. And that’s Briar. Briar Harcourt. It doesn’t mean I can’t visit here. And I would like to get to know them. But... I’m me.”
He knew what it meant. She didn’t have to explain. Because he knew her. He could honestly say he had never known anyone else quite as well. And certainly no one had known him.
“Briar.” He just wanted to say her name. Wanted to watch her respond to him. To his words. To his voice. Wanted to confirm that she wasn’t neutral to him. No. No, she was not. It took three steps for him to close the space between them and when he did, he looped his arms around her, trapping her in the chain, pulling her up against him. “I’m not here to steal you,” he said, leaning in, pressing his lips to hers. “But I am here for you.”
“You said...” Her voice wobbled.
“That I would not claim you. Not for revenge. Not for payment. But I want you.” He drew her even closer, wrapping the chain around his wrists to make it so she couldn’t pull away. “I need you.”
“Why do I feel like you’re trying to take me captive again?” she whispered, her dark eyes glittering.
“Impossible,” he said. “I’m the one in chains. I suspect I have been for a very long time. But it took the desire to be free for me to truly recognize my limitations. When I wished so much I could hold you, but knew I could not because it would only harm us both. Because...because if I am in chains then holding you means having you in them, as well, and you were right. It would have only destroyed us both. That has long been my fear. That I destroy, rather than build. That I am my father’s son, and I can only break things, even the things I love.”
“And you’re holding me in chains now,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but this is literal, because I want you against me. Touching me. The other was metaphorical.”
“I see,” she said, the side of her mouth quirking upward. “But none of it matters if you haven’t found the key.”
“To my chains? Oh, I have. The metaphorical chains. Not these. Your father will have to release me from these.”
She lifted her hands, taking hold of his face. “Unless you’re going to tell me how you found the key, you can shut up.”
He took that opportunity to wrap the chains yet another time around his wrist, hauling her closer as he dipped his head and claimed her mouth with his. When they parted, they were both breathing hard.
“You,” he ground out. “You’re the key, Briar. To all of this. To me.”
“I am?”
“Yes,” he said. “You. Not as a princess, but as a woman. You made me see...you made me see for the first time in years. You shone a light on my darkness. And even more than allowing me to see, you saw me. You saw me and you wouldn’t allow me to hide.”
“You saw me,” she said, the words husky. “You made me stronger. You made me fight.”
“It was in you all along,” he said. “That fight. You just had to come up against a dragon to find it.”
She smiled. “I like that.”
“And I love you.” The words scraped his throat raw. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever spoken them before. He didn’t think he had. “All my childhood I’d been too bound up in fear and abuse to...to feel much of anything. I dismissed it. I dismissed it as something that didn’t matter because I didn’t truly understand. I didn’t know what it meant to love someone, or to have them love you. I didn’t understand the power of it. I thought... I thought that perhaps my mother’s death was something I could have fixed. If I had done more. If I had been better.”
“No,” she said, pressing her fingertips to his lips. “No. You were a little boy, Felipe. Of course you couldn’t have stopped it.”
“It felt like it was me,” he said, his voice strained. “That I was the one who broke her.”
“No, Felipe. It was him.”
“I know. I know now. There was only ever one person who could have stopped the hell we lived in, and that was my father. And that small thing. That thing he taught me meant nothing...love. It would have healed so much, Briar. If he would have had it for me, for my mother. For anyone but himself. Love is not a negligible thing. I have come to believe that it is the only thing.”
“I love you, Felipe.” She smiled at him. And it was like the sun had risen after the darkest night, shining a light in the hidden corners of his soul.
He kissed her again, and he felt something lift away from him. A weight, a darkness that had rested upon him for longer than he could remember. He had tried to banish it with anger, with hate. With vengeance. But nothing had taken it from him. Until this. Until her love.
Love was stronger.
That was how the princess slew the dragon. Not with a sword. Not with a magic spell.
But with love.
And they lived happily ever after...
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