Briar Rose and His Not-So-Charming Prince Read online

  “Don’t say that,” I pleaded. “Leonard helped me. He fought for me. It was all…”

  Before I could finish the phrase, a hydrangea bloomed around my mother’s wrist, seemingly out of nowhere. She froze, like she was listening to something only she could hear. Similarly, I could see my father kneel next to a group of hyacinths that had suddenly appeared right next to my bed. My parents’ guardians had awoken.

  The guardians had accepted Leonard when we’d been in the dream world. That was important, but it didn’t assure us that they would do the same now. As a rule, they were reluctant to accept outsiders, and Arthurians were the epitome of what was most hated—a non-magical people who didn’t understand our ways but still condemned them. But Leonard…He was different. Could the guardians see that?

  A few seconds passed, and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Finally, my father spoke out. “It seems that I might have misjudged you, Prince Leonard. We are told that you battled quite fiercely for our son.”

  My mother arched a brow at my mate. “I must ask, however, what do you intend to do with that?”

  At first, I wasn’t sure what she even meant, but then, I saw she was staring at Leonard’s waist. I gaped as I realized that, there, strapped to Leonard’s belt, was my red rose, the same one that I had once protected in my garden only to end up cursed because of it.

  Leonard blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize…How do I still have it?”

  In his mind, I saw what had happened, how he had battled the rose creature back in the dream world. It was how he’d earned that jagged wound on his side, which, judging by the red staining his shirt, had affected his physical body as well. How had I even missed that? Had I been so distracted by my eventful reunion with my parents that I hadn’t noticed my mate’s injury?

  Ignoring the question, I said, “You’re hurt, Leonard. We need to have a healer to see to your wounds.”

  Biting my lip, I touched Leonard’s side, aiming to move his shirt aside. In the dream world, the wound hadn’t seemed nearly so bad, but I’d clearly underestimated its severity. “Like I said, Briar, it’s just a scratch,” Leonard tried to soothe me. “It’s not important.”

  “I disagree,” my mother intervened. “Briar is correct. Come. We’ll have a druid tend to your injuries. The rest can wait.”

  My father quickly gathered the petals that had fallen off my body and offered them to me. I should have been embarrassed, but I just quickly and efficiently rubbed them over my skin. Since I hadn’t wiped myself clean of semen, they obediently reattached, covering the flesh that only Leonard was entitled to see.

  Once I’d finished with my task, we made our way out of my private garden and toward the Great Tree, the palace that hosted the entire dryad court. I was aware that my people were beginning to awaken, but I couldn’t even think about that. Instead, I focused my less-than-excellent healing abilities on Leonard’s wound. My mate blinked in surprise. “Are you doing that?” he asked as his pain started to fade.

  I nodded. “I know it’s not much, but it should tide you over until we get to the palace.”

  “I didn’t realize dryads had healing powers,” Leonard answered.

  “Not all do,” my father explained. “It depends very much on the type of dryad you are. You see, Prince Leonard, dryads are generally known for being shape-shifters, but we are different from other such creatures. Most of our people—the ones with affinity toward trees—have that shape-changing ability. However, for certain species of flowers, our orientation is not the same. While we still consider ourselves shape-shifters to some extent, our magic lies in different fields. For example, some dryads are naturally inclined toward healing, like my sister Aloe and her daughter. Lavender. Others have skills that are more oriented toward poisons.”

  “I suppose it’s kind of like in Arthuria. Some people are warriors, others are healers, merchants, scholars, or craftsmen,” Leonard mused. “And what about you, Briar? What are you?”

  “The people in the Rose dynasty are what we call controllers,” I explained. “I fall somewhere in the middle. I am most skilled in using the plants around me as an extension of my will. My parents are similar.”

  “Although your abilities are far stronger than ours,” my mother said with a proud smile. “I just know you’ll make an excellent king when the time comes.”

  I barely managed to suppress a wince. Just earlier, I had promised that I would go with Leonard to Arthuria when the time came. My parents were saying exactly the opposite to what I had told him. Not that I didn’t understand their point. I was an only child and a direct descendent of the line of the Rose. Even if they had another baby, it was unlikely that he or she would share my affinity. But I didn’t want to be king or anything like that. I just wanted to be Leonard’s mate.

  I scanned Leonard’s face for any reaction to what they had said, but there was none—only a smile that could have meant anything at all, a non-expression of sorts. If not for our bond, I might have totally missed the turmoil my mother’s words had triggered inside him.

  “Naturally,” he replied smoothly. “And he’ll have all of my support should it be needed.”

  Did my mother notice the phrasing? She must have, but she didn’t get the chance to address it. Fortunately, we were finally entering the palace courtyard, and numerous dazed people were surrounding us, some asking questions, others crying or shouting, and all of them staring or glaring at Leonard.

  My father stayed behind to take care of the situation, but my mother led us into the main structure. The healing rooms were on the first floor, and already, several others of the dryads who’d awoken were being seen to by my aunt Aloe. Her mate Belladonna was assisting her, which I thought was a little strange.

  My mother must have caught onto the same thing. “Aloe, where’s Lavender?” she inquired. She was the one who regularly helped Aloe. Her mate’s affinity wasn’t exactly oriented toward healing.

  Aloe looked away from the dryad she had been focusing on. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she whispered, “She isn’t waking up.”

  I could feel a lot of eyes fixed on me, all of those present knowing that it was my fault for what had happened. By my side, Leonard bristled. I took a deep breath and pushed back my guilt to focus on what truly mattered here. “She will,” I said. “The curse is breaking. It’ll just take a little more time. Meanwhile, can you help heal my mate?”

  Aloe’s expression cleared, and she nodded, smiling gently at me. “Of course. Congratulations, Briar.”

  She didn’t seem awfully surprised at Leonard’s appearance. Perhaps her own guardian had appeared to tell her what had happened. Nevertheless, Leonard deserved an official acknowledgement.

  As she gestured for Leonard to sit down, I replied, “Thank you, Aunt Aloe. But please, let me make the introductions. This is Prince Leonard of Arthuria, my mate. Leonard, this is my aunt Aloe and her mate, Belladonna.”

  “It’s an honor,” Leonard answered. “I’m sorry to hear about your daughter. I assure you I will do everything that is in my power to catch the witch and keep her from hurting anyone else ever again.”

  “That’s admirable,” Aloe said, “but first, I imagine you need me to tend to your wounds.”

  Leonard nodded and obediently removed his shirt. Actually seeing my mate’s injury turned my stomach. If he hadn’t managed to move aside, if the thorn had struck just a little closer…He might not be here today.

  As I thought this, Belladonna eyed the wound with her typical no-nonsense expression. “That looks pretty bad, especially since you’re Arthurian. I believe Aloe’s magic might not be quite enough.”

  “Perhaps a tincture to speed things along,” Aloe said, already leaning over Leonard.

  As Aloe poked and prodded at Leonard’s injured side, Belladonna retreated into the back room—or rather, one of the many back rooms. She returned shortly after, holding a vial with a clear, rosy liquid, and a second green one.

  She offered A
loe the first bottle, and Aloe immediately poured it onto Leonard’s wound. I was so distracted by the fact that my mate’s pain had already started to fade that I completely missed Bella’s approach. I nearly jumped when she pressed her free hand to my shoulder. “This is for you,” she said, offering me the green vial.

  I shot her a confused glance, and Bella proceeded to explain, “I can already tell that you’re pollinating, and you might need something to control it a little, especially since your mate is injured.”

  In my heart, there was nothing I’d have liked more than to just let the process continue and jump Leonard as soon as my mate recovered. It was what my body and my soul demanded. But my reason reminded me it was a bad idea. I would be losing so much more if I surrendered to my instincts.

  So, I took the green bottle and said, “Thank you, Aunt Bella.”

  As I pocketed the item, Aloe wrapped Leonard’s wound in a bandage crafted out of leaves. “Keep it like that,” she instructed. “The injury should be closed by tonight, and the leaves will keep it clean and safe from infection. They will fall off when it’s time.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Leonard answered, echoing my earlier sentiment toward Aloe’s mate.

  After putting his shirt back on, Leonard got up, and my mother took his arm. “Now come. You should lie down and rest if you are to recover.”

  My mate wordlessly agreed, although I could tell that he was a little taken aback by all the care. He wanted to go hunting for the witch, and resting wasn’t on his list of priorities. However, it was important to me, so he went along with my mother’s not so discreet command.

  We went up a flight of stairs, then another and another. We were headed straight toward my quarters, in the highest room of the tallest tower. There were few servants around now, only the occasional guard who saluted as we passed while he tried to remember what he had been doing when the curse had struck.

  It should have been somewhat entertaining, in that the guards weren’t always very balanced and more than once, they tripped on their own feet. But again, I knew that their lack of coordination was largely my responsibility, so I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

  By the time we reached my quarters, Leonard began to show signs of fatigue. I could definitely understand, since it was clear that the effort he’d put into rescuing me back in the dream world was finally taking its toll.

  We slid into my room, and Leonard smiled when we found it exactly the same like it had been in the dream world. My gaze went to the bed, the same one where Leonard and I had made love. Leonard plopped down, and I moved to joined him.

  Sadly, my mother grabbed my arm, keeping me from approaching my lover. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to stay here, Briar. You know why.”

  I released a heavy sigh and nodded miserably. My lover’s predicament had temporarily pushed aside my pollinating instincts, but if I got too close to Leonard, the entire thing would start all over again. Already, I could feel heat gathering inside me just at the sight of him. It certainly didn’t help that we were in this room together, and Leonard was in my bed. My petals parted again, even if I’d reattached them just minutes ago.

  My mother was my queen, and I knew she was right, but even now, I ached to disobey her, to couple with Leonard again.

  Leonard fell back, staring at the ceiling and groaning. Next to me, my mother released a small sound of dismay, and I knew beyond the shadow a doubt that I was pollinating again.

  “Go,” Leonard whispered. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Through our bond, he added, “You know that we are never truly apart.”

  Yes, I did know that, and it gave me strength to do what was needed. I blew him a kiss, and he extended his hand, like he was catching it. He pressed that hand to his heart, and I turned on my heel and fled the room, knowing that if I stayed, my resolve would falter.

  My mother led me downstairs at one of the lower levels, where the wing of the royal family was located. My aunts lived here, as did my cousin Lavender. I had many other relatives, both through direct bloodline and through marriage, but I didn’t know them all that well because I’d mostly been kept apart from them. Truth be told, a lot of my childhood years were now a painful blur, and I probably wouldn’t have thought about them at all if not for how the emotional turmoil I felt at my separation from Leonard.

  We entered the spacious rooms my parents shared. My mother pulled me on a low settee, and I curled next to her, burying my face in her chest. The scent of hydrangeas soothed me to some extent. I’d forgotten the number of times my mother had held me like this, when I had wept for the roses that had been killed for the good of the kingdom, when I’d felt like I was going to die if I didn’t save them. Time and the cursed sleep had mended some of those wounds, but there were things that would never truly be forgotten.

  “Shh,” she whispered at me now. “Just breathe. Your mate is all right. We’ll have Aloe watch over him and provide him with everything he needs, food, clothes. Calm down for now.”

  I struggled to obey and relaxed in her arms, although it was truly my connection with Leonard that helped most. When I could breathe without wheezing in pain, my mother finally let go of me. “Perhaps you should take that potion, petal,” she said. “It will help you get some sleep.”

  The old nickname made me nod and retrieve the green vial. Quickly, I downed the liquid and left the bottle on the table nearby. Leaning into my mother’s embrace, I closed my eyes, feeling the substance already begin to take effect.

  It was a very mild sedative which pollinating dryads took if their mates couldn’t fulfill their immediate demands for whatever reason. Or at least, it should have been. Suddenly, the mellow heat that had started to soothe me melted into something else, something ugly and harsh—and I knew that I hadn’t taken a sedative after all.

  Chapter Seven:

  In Which You Really Shouldn’t Stop to Smell the Roses

  Briar’s quarters were quiet and felt empty. Too empty, so much so that I couldn’t sleep in spite of the effect of the lotion Briar’s aunt had applied. The wound in my side didn’t concern me. I’d had worse. It was Briar whom I worried about now. Not being able to touch him, to hold him—it was hellish. Perhaps once that remedy from Aloe’s mate took effect, I could go to him without risking the reappearance of the curse.

  I watched him closely through our mate bond, and for that reason, I felt the moment when pain gripped my mate. In seconds, I shot out of the bed and was out of the room. Through our bond, Briar reached out to me. “Leonard…Oh, Goddess, help me.”

  I ran down the stairs, stumbling more than once in my haste to get to Briar. Some of the guards gave me long looks, but didn’t stop me—well, at least not until I reached the royal wing. It was there that someone finally stepped into my path. “Halt,” the guard said. “We cannot allow you to go any further.”

  I wasn’t about to let anyone stand in my way. My hand went to my sword almost of its own accord, and perhaps I would have actually attacked him had the queen not appeared to stop it. “Come with me,” she said tightly. “Briar needs you.” Turning toward the guard, she added, “Bring Aloe and Belladonna. I want to see them at once.”

  The soldier saluted and fled, while I ran after Hydrangea. She was pale, her lips a thin line and her hands clenched into fists. When we entered the quarters she shared with the king, we found Briar lying down on the settee, curled into a tight ball.

  I knelt next to Briar and took his hand. “What’s wrong with him?” I asked, for once unable to keep up my stoic demeanor. My mate was panting and whining, his eyes wild, beyond reason. That look was very much like the one I’d once seen in my stallion’s gaze, after a fire had torn apart the royal stables. My lover was scared and in pain, and I could do nothing about it.

  “I don’t know,” the queen admitted. “I can only imagine there must have been something in the potion.”

  As she spoke, a familiar presence manifested by my side. Rosa appeared on the couch right next to Briar, pe
tting my mate’s hair. “It was spiked with love herb, and possibly a touch of belladonna.”

  Briar squeezed my hand tighter. I could tell the queen was surprised by Rosa’s arrival, because according to what I’d learned so far, guardians were a very private thing. The fact that Rosa had chosen to come spoke volumes of the seriousness of the situation.

  “It was his aunt, wasn’t it?” I guessed.

  Rosa nodded, while the queen released a sound of anger and dismay. “But why?”

  “I imagine it must have a lot to do with the fact that Lavender has yet to awaken. I’m afraid that Belladonna’s guardian managed to conceal her plans from me until now.”

  Fury and terror mingled inside me as I watched my mate writhe in the clutches of the potion. Much to my shame, I also felt a hefty dose of lust—Briar’s pheromones were even more potent than before, and I had trouble thinking beyond the thought of how much I needed him. If not for Briar’s obvious pain, I couldn’t have focused on anything except how beautiful he was.

  “How can we help? There has to be an antidote of sorts.”

  “You are the antidote,” a female voice replied to my inquiry. I turned, only to see Aloe and Belladonna step into the room. Both of them were very pale, and Aloe was stubbornly staring at the floor. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Aloe hadn’t been the one who’d planned the whole thing. Because all the while, Belladonna faced me fearlessly, no sign of remorse in her gaze. “All you have to do is claim him and the potion’s effect will disappear.”

  I glared at her. “If I do that, the curse will return. Have you completely lost your mind, witch?”

  “I’m merely doing what I must.” Belladonna shrugged. Suddenly, her lips twisted into a smirk. “Come now, Arthurian. You know you want to do this.”

  Before I could figure out what that meant, my arm started to burn. Briefly, I was aware of Aloe glancing up at me, and I realized I’d been mistaken in my original assessment. I couldn’t even berate myself for that, though. My vision went unfocused, and my sense of scent seemed a million times stronger.