The king spoke softly—all the worse for its deadly quietness, “Put those pathetic things away unless you want to see mine. I guarantee you my fangs are much larger than yours.”
I took another step back but stopped flashing fang.
“What is your name?” he asked again, slowly this time though, like I was hard of hearing. “You do know it, correct?”
I opened my mouth to speak, attempting to ignore the fact that my panties were starting to get wet thanks to the urge, and stated sharply, “My name is—”
“Trixie!” Father barked harshly.
My head snapped to the left. Relief rushed through my veins at seeing my father’s face, even if he did not look one bit pleased. The urge was heavy in my body, but it was controllable currently. I swiftly turned and strode toward safety—not quite a run, but definitely a very fast walk—and met my father halfway down the hallway.
“I’m so sorry, Father.” I gulped air and tried to calm myself, whispering very,veryquietly, “I was ambushed.”
“Yes, I can see that,” King Traevon griped, his stark eyes lifting to glare over my head as he wrapped one arm around my waist to haul me against his side. The king’s voice charged the air, crisp and annoyed. “King Athon, I would have preferred introducing my daughter to you, not have you waylay her in a deserted area.”
I breathed with deep intakes of oxygen and slow exhales, much easier now that my father was here, and then turned my head to the side to peer at the other king.
King Athon was standing right where I had left him, facing us, with his arms still crossed over his chest and his big ass boots set apart in a rugged stance of powerful. His features held not a single hint of our conversation or the predicament we were in, none of the horror and anger he had shown me.
Father huffed. “What do you have to say for yourself? You know this is unacceptable. My heir is still young yet.”
King Athon lowered his arms and deigned to speak as he started a casual saunter toward us. “King Traevon, I didn’t even know you were bringing your heir here. And, as far as intruding, she almost busted the bathroom door down where I was peacefully using the facilities. Luckily for her, the hinges held.”
My father’s irritation didn’t lessen one bit. “And so you waited for her, afterward? Why?”
“I wanted to know who had snuck into our royal sanctum, as you would have done, since her apologetic voice was not one I had heard before.” He stopped to stand directly in front of us, casual and unwavering, those black eyes focused brutally on my father. “Although, she would not give me her name, so you may still have the pleasure of introducing us if you like.”
Father’s lips unpinched to form a powerful smirk, his attention just as hard on the other king as the other’s was. “It would be my pleasure. King Athon, this is Princess Trixie Towers, the heir to the Elf Kingdom. My daughter, my one and only child. And if you behave wrongly against her, I will fucking kill you.”
My blink was slow. That was not very diplomatic.
CHAPTER FIVE
Confession of a princess:
I’ve decided I’d rather have my head chopped off than go to another royal summit. My father had better live another thousand years because this Fae shit is crazy.
Is this normal for them?
Is this supposed to be my new normal?
Well, I didn’t expect any of this.
And, damn, the Misfits are that ugly...
King Athon’s dusky pearl lips quirked up on one side. His hard eyes stayed a moment longer on my father—after that murderous threat—before he turned that penetrating all-black gaze on me. His thick, dark lashes dipped as he bowed his head ever so subtly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Princess Trixie. I am King Athon Alistair, King of Shifters.”
All I wanted to do was hammer nails into his boots.
This was really bad.
I yanked on my resolve—to be that perfect heir for my people—and pulled away from my father. I dipped low into a flawless curtsey, keeping my head far down. I stared at the floor, and stated respectfully, “It is as equally lovely to make your acquaintance, Your Royal Highness.”
May I get up now? I’d like to run and hide.
A gentle tap on the crown of my head. “You may rise.”
Thank you ever so much. I have to look at you again.
