My shoulders slumped.
“Are you okay?” Charlize laid a hand on my shoulder, and I managed a shaky nod.
“Well, we’re not going to be,” Hunter hissed, looking terrified. “Help me pick up these books and get them back inside before Eva sees. You think werewolves are scary? That’s nothing on a furious librarian!”
Charlize winced but started gathering books. “Come on, Stacia. We can talk while we work. We have a lot to tell you.”
BASH
It almost killed me to leave Stacia there, but an interrogation was no place for her to be. She was brave, she hadn’t flinched even once, not from the one-bloods and not from me, but there were just some things I didn’t want her to have to deal with.
But I was going to have to make things up to her in a big way. From leaving her the first time, even though it hadn’t been my idea, to not telling her what and who I was before I claimed her as my mate, and for having to leave her there on the steps of the library to carry out my duty.
I had a pretty good idea on how to do it too.
It didn’t take long to find out what the one-bloods knew, however little that was. But at least that group wouldn’t be harassing the BSU campus any longer, so that was something.
There was, of course, the formality of delivering the information to Nikolai Troika, the Wolf Tzar who had recently risen to power, and after a brief pause to clean up and attempt to make myself presentable after a whirlwind few days, Mother and I were on our way to the speaking engagement at the student center at Bay State University as originally scheduled.
It had taken a bit of finagling, but I’d gotten my royal guards on board with my plan. A couple of phone calls to the press promising them the royal story of the century helped too.
When the president of the university announced my name and the crowd in the auditorium clapped, I was ready to rock and roll, as the Americans say. I stepped up to the podium, and right there, front and center where I’d insisted she be escorted, was Stacia. My heart pounded hard in my chest, and for one moment, I forgot how to breathe.
She was breathtaking. She was also miffed as hell. I hoped I would get to see both over and over again for the rest of my life. Hopefully less of the being miffed bit though. Becoming a princess should help improve her mood.
I had a speech all prepared for me by the press secretary, and I crumpled it up. I spoke directly into the microphone while looking down at Stacia. Cameras flashed, the audience went quiet, and the room disappeared for me.
It was only her and me in this great big world.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. You see, my parents are quite the sticklers when it comes to pre-marital relations. They are of the firm belief that one should only engage in sexual congress with the one person to whom they shall marry.” The cameras clicked and flashed, the film rolled. Soon all the world would know who and what I was. A man in love.
Stacia narrowed her eyes, looked around at the people seated near her who were all staring, and the cameras pointed at her face. With a frown and a shrug, she ignored them like I was doing. She sat back in her chair like this was the most casual of conversations. “That’s pretty old school.”
At least she was talking to me. That was all I needed. “That phrase describes my entire family to a tee. But now that I’ve met you, I think I agree with my mother all the same.”
Stacia stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to say we shouldn’t have slept together?”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and I could physically feel the excitement pouring off the reporters. They thought they were in for a scandal and they loved nothing better.
Stacia didn’t stop there, and her fire had me getting hard for her all over again. She waved a hand around, talking loud enough for everyone to hear. “Because I reject that outright. I’m pretty mad at you, but I also am kind of in love with you. So there.”
That’s all I needed to hear. I’d known it in my heart, but those words from her lips gave me that last bit of strength I needed to throw off the cares of being a royal prince and become her lover.
I jumped down off the stage and pulled her into my arms. “No, my adorable American, I’m saying I want you to marry me. I’m in love with you too. Anastasia, will you be the next Princess Bashkir, future Queen of Bashkiria?”
I couldn’t hear her answer over the eruption of cheers from the crowd, but her smile and the way she kissed me gave the answer I wanted.
When the crowd died down, I pulled her up onto the stage and waited for the onslaught of questions from the press. Stacia handled them in her adorable American way.
“Anastasia, Anastasia, over here. Do you have any royal blood in your family?”
Uh-oh. Here came the unanswerable questions. Stupid press would, of course, glom onto that first instead of our obvious happiness.
She shook her head. “Nope. I do not have an ounce of blue blood in me. It’s all-American red.”
“Then how can you be a princess?” another reporter asked.
“Uhh…”
