One True Love

By Linda Kage

Custom demanded that Prince Urban get a love mark tattooed to the side of his left eye as an infant, just like the rest of his people, but to him, the stupid things have only brought on the scorn of his father, the misery of his siblings, and caused his entire kingdom to go broke from fighting so many wars over the irritating ink stains.

When Urban’s sister must travel to Donnelly, the kingdom within the sand, for her arranged marriage to align two realms, he goes with her. But he no sooner steps foot inside their castle than his mark starts itching like a son of a bitch, telling him his one true love is near.

It just figures, though, that the woman meant for him is completely forbidden. Now he must decide if he should ignore the persistent mark, telling him she's the one, in order to avoid a possible war between kingdoms, or if he should discover whether she's worth risking everything for so they can be together. Either way, his life gets sucked into chaos with threats of beheadings, dark magic lurking, castle traitors scheming, and sword fights eminent.

Who knew one little tattoo could cause so much trouble?

(ONE TRUE LOVE is the author’s first attempt at a fantasy romance. Please forgive her; she might’ve read an overabundance of Cassandra Gannon, Sarah J. Maas, and Eve Langlais books, then gone off to watch too many episodes of Supernatural, Game of Thrones, and Outlander, because this was the outcome.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: May 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094440897

Linda Kage

The youngest of eight children, Linda Kage grew up on a dairy farm in the Midwest. She now lives in Kansas with her husband, daughter, and nine cuckoo clocks. Linda is a member of Romance Writers of America and its local chapter, Midwest Romance Writers.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Urban

Rain hadn’t visited this region in quite some time, proof evident in the brown, wilted cacti and dead flowering plants we passed. Sandy travel dust coated us all, weighing us down with a weary kind of plod that made our journey feel even longer than the three weeks it had taken to reach this point. Even our horses had given up on twitching their tails in an effort to remove flies from their hides.

Our path was paved with dry, cracked earth, and what emaciated cattle we saw lay in the shaded nooks of exhausted boulders as they panted with their dehydrated tongues lolling. It made me miss home even more. Nothing could compare to the vast expanse of rolling, green-carpeted hills, turbulent blue seas, succulent fruit trees, and the white-washed cliffs I’d grown up exploring. This dry, barren wasteland did nothing whatsoever to change my mind, either.

I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to come to this place with my sister.

And stay.

Forever.

I must’ve lost my damn mind.

With a sigh, I capped the canteen I’d just taken a swig from and tucked it back into the pouch of my horse’s satchel. Under me, the thirsty beast snorted as if he could smell the fresh liquid, meaning I probably needed to halt the caravan soon so we could water the animals again, even though stopping would delay our trip even longer.

Which made my mood grow grimmer.

Ready to turn back yet? I asked, wiping sweat off my brow with the back of my wrist before I sent a telling glance to my right, where my sister rested her own heat-glistened face in the window of her carriage. Go home and forget this desert?

And risk starting a war? Her fatigued gaze slid drowsily my way. I think not. The marriage alliance has already been signed, Brother. It’s a done deal.

Nah. I sent her a wink and mischievous grin, even though the juices in my stomach boiled every time I was reminded how she’d been sold off into marriage like some kind of meaningless broodmare. We’ll just send Cousin Agnes in your stead. She’d love the adventure, and they’d never know the difference.

Father would. He’d disinherit us both if we returned home now.

I stopped arguing with a muttered grunt, because Father. Pfft. That old windbag put more importance on honor and respect than he did his own children, which had proven terribly unfortunate for me on more than one occasion. Like now. Because Father, the great and mighty ruler of High Cliff, had spent the entirety of our kingdom’s coffers on fighting a war, all for a little honor and respect.

The people of High Cliff—my home—had a custom, you see. Every child born in our land must be christened with our ceremonial mark within a week of birth. Once the mark was applied, that person would then be able to recognize his or her one true love at first sight.

I know, I know. Stop rolling your eyes already. Even I admit it was a trite, romanticized practice set forth by some young, dreamy-eyed teen queen centuries ago, but that truly didn’t matter. It had become an honored tradition among my people, so the kingdom of High Cliff treated it seriously. And when other lands ridiculed our sacred custom, well… We took it as an extreme affront.

Which caused wars. Many wars. Many expensive wars.

Call us pansy-assed weaklings concerned with nothing but finding true love? Fine, we’ll kill all your warriors and take your land. How about that?

Actually, no, that wasn’t quite true either. I wasn’t sure if many outside kingdoms even knew about our sacred marks, and the last war we’d gotten ourselves involved in was supposedly to stop a dark magic family’s reign, but in all honesty, Father hadn’t joined that fight until they’d mocked our marks. So… I stuck with my original theory: the marks caused wars.

And now the kingdom of High Cliff was broke from all this fighting. But never fear, we still had our honor and respect plus more battle-ravaged land than ever, by God. No one dared to blaspheme the mark these days.

Not to our faces, anyway.

We’d become so damned honorable and respectable that other kingdoms—richer, newer, younger kingdoms—were willing and even eager, to align themselves with us for a bit of that old, honorable, and respectable standing we had among the Outer Realms.

Thus my reason to leave home forever.

Father had agreed to pull High Cliff from its debt by marrying my sister, his only princess, off to the king of Donnelly’s younger brother, Prince Brentley.

Donnelly was the youngest, most prosperous kingdom in the Outer Realms, also known as the kingdom within the sand. To me, it was quickly becoming that kingdom within the pain in my ass. Because seriously, what insane people had ever looked around at all this nothingness and thought, hey, let’s make a home here?

Idiots.

I glanced toward Allera once more, still unable to quite believe she’d actually agreed to go along with this ridiculous bargain, though honestly, what alternative did she truly have? Father would’ve no doubt exiled her if she’d refused, and she would’ve had to flee to somewhere just like Donnelly for refuge. I guess she might as well marry a wealthy man with high standing who could help her homeland prosper, if she were going to come here anyway. Doing this was likely the most pleasant option she had left.

Either that, or she was simply a true patriot to our kingdom.

Didn’t mean I needed to escort her, though. I wasn’t being forced to marry anyone. But honestly, who could let their only sister, their favorite sibling, the one person in the entire realm of realms who still seemed to like me, go off alone and tie herself for the rest of her life to a complete stranger?

Not me, I guess. So here I was, accompanying her.

Besides, after Father had kicked me out of my own army, there was nothing left for me at High Cliff. He already had his heir and a spare with my older brothers, Erick and Olivander, and then Allera, his princess, to marry off to other kingdoms. As the youngest of the four, I was quite unneeded and unnecessary. To the great and mighty King Ignatius Bjorn of Realm High Cliff, I would only ever be seen as that damn whelp who’d killed his queen during childbirth.

Halt! I called, needing to walk off some of my mood and stop thinking about this already. Nurturing such a pity party helped no one.

The parade of soldiers and servants slowed to a relieved stop, and half of them dashed off into the lump of twigs that passed as bushes for much-needed respite.

Allera lifted her face my way and arched her eyebrows. Another break? I thought you said we were nearly there an hour ago?

I nodded as I climbed off my steed. "According to the map, we are. But the horses are thirsty, and I thought you might wish to freshen up a bit before meeting your new husband. Wouldn’t want to give off a bad first impression, now, would we?"

The word husband made her cringe, but after a moment to think it through, she nodded and waved me toward her. Good thinking. Help me out of this carriage then, would you? I can barely move in these cumbersome skirts.

I sniffed. At home, she wore pants whenever possible, avoiding Father with me where we spent most of our days out in the villages, helping crofters with their daily chores. I wasn’t sure how she was going to handle constraining herself to a castle now and wearing a dress every day, because what were the odds her second husband would be as lenient on her as her first had been?

Flinging open the door to her carriage, I held up a hand to help her down. This is stupid. You know that, right? You’ve never even met this guy. What if he’s some rude old asshole with no teeth and smells like decaying flesh?

Allera narrowed her eyes and bit out, You’re not helping.

Batting aside my proffered hand, she tried to descend without my assistance and missed the step, falling against me. I muttered my impatience and caught her waist before swinging her the rest of the way to the ground.

What if he never lets you wear pants again? I asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. She could be about to lose any freedom she’d ever had.

She gulped unsteadily and looked up at me from solemn green eyes. Tightening her jaw, she bit out, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

But—

"Don’t force me to hit you, Urban. I’m already nervous enough as it is. You’re supposed to be making things easier for me, not harder."

Damn.

Instantly contrite, I let go of her waist and took a step back. I really was adding to her anxieties instead of combating them, wasn’t I? When I bowed out my submission, Allera huffed through her annoyance, picked up her skirts and stomped past me, where her lady’s maids were gathered to assist her.

Cursing myself, I turned away and headed in the opposite direction to find a spot alone where I could clear my head and hopefully pull it from my ass.

When I found a large, sturdy rock a good distance from everyone else, I plunked myself down, rested my elbows on my knees, and I bowed my face shamefully. The sun lashed its scorching heat against the back of my neck in punishment. I let it do its worst, heating my skin unnaturally, as I tried to forget the fact I was probably never going to see my homeland again, that I was about to enter a foreign kingdom and somehow settle there for the rest of my life, that nothing was ever going to be the same as it had been. And I was supposed to be the leader of my merry little band of riders, which meant I had to act as if none of this was any kind of big deal.

Right. I was so going to fail.

But at least Allera was with me. Nothing could feel quite so hopeless with her near. I’d never confess to her how much she meant to me, but honestly, she was like my mother, sister, and best friend all rolled into one annoying but devoted woman. All this muck was worth it to remain near her.

When I blew out a breath and stood, a good twenty minutes had probably passed. But at least I felt calmer and ready to tackle the issues at hand, which was to get my people through this desert and reach Donnelly’s castle already.

I returned to the caravan, whistling under my breath, only to find the horses had drunk their fill, everyone was ready to move again, and Allera had decked herself in a new, dust-free emerald gown.

The rubies around her throat and encrusted into her tiara glittered in the full sunlight, and her face looked powdered and fresh, as if she’d actually had time to bathe.

I met her at the entrance of her carriage to help her back inside. As she glided closer, I straightened my spine, ready to apologize for my earlier behavior.

But she didn’t give me the chance. Smiling most graciously as if she didn’t have a care in the world, she offered me her ring-clad fingers so I could help her up. Ride with me the rest of the way, would you, dear brother?

My pleasant expression withered like all the cacti surrounding us.

Good God. She didn’t want me to apologize; she wanted me to suffer, because honestly, what could be worse than getting inside that deathtrap of a carriage? It had to be twenty degrees hotter in such a stale, cooped-up box than out here with rare gusts of wind to occasionally cool us.

But I couldn’t deny Allera anything, especially after how I’d just treated her, so I nodded mutely, called to an outrider to take care of my horse, and followed her up the steps.

Her skirt brushed my knees as soon as I sat, instantly making me claustrophobic. Grumbling, I opened the curtains wider on both sides to let a breeze through, but it didn’t help. I felt trapped and smothered by both the heat and our doomed situation. How Allera was handling it so regally I’d never understand. She’d always had an inner strength that awed the piss out of me.

When we get there, she murmured quietly after the wheels began to roll as if she didn’t want anyone to hear her chastising her younger brother.

I lifted a hand to quiet her. "Don’t worry. I got it. This is a big fucking deal. I won’t do anything to embarrass you or High Cliff. And I’ll keep my smart-ass mouth shut."

That’s what Father had ordered of me before we’d left home, anyway. This is a big fucking deal, Urban, he’d said. Don’t do anything to embarrass your sister or High Cliff. In fact, just keep your damn, mother-killing smart-ass mouth shut.

Allera sighed and sent me a sad look. "I know you’ll behave. I was just going to say, I realize you don’t want to like this place or these people, but please, at least try to have an open mind when we arrive. It’s going to be our home from now on, and we will become one of them. Fighting the inevitable adjustment will only hurt you more. And I can’t have you miserable because I… Well, I need you too much right now. Your support might be the only thing holding me together to help me get through. So, please, just—"

Allera. I leaned forward and set my hand over hers. When she looked up, her eyes swirled with all the worry she was attempting to contain. I nodded gravely, moved by her words. I won’t let you down. I swear it.

Her shoulders eased with relief and her eyes glistened with tears as she smiled. I’m so glad you’re the one who came with me, she admitted, with an intensity that made the strings around my own heart tighten. I don’t think I would be able to manage this with anyone else at my side.

It is my honor, I vowed.

Feeling the stirring of my own emotions, I glanced away, attempting to subdue them, only to spot something out the window coming into view as we crested a slope. Eyebrows lifting with surprise, I sat forward and murmured, God… Damn.

What? Allera whirled to see what had caught my attention. Gasping, she pressed her hand to her heaving chest. "Oh my. Oh my goodness. Urban, it’s so…"

Yeah, I agreed.

The view was definitely something worth ogling. Frankly, it was almost too grand to be real. I blinked, making sure it wasn’t some kind of mirage. But it only seemed to grow larger and more opulent with every sweep of my lashes.

The first thing I noticed were the trees, a bounty of full, non-desert-like foliage bushed out with the greenest leaves… Right in the middle of the fucking sand. They were so thick and numerous, they nearly hid the white stone walls surrounding the palace. How they were able to grow here, I didn’t know, but I almost wept with relief at the sight of them after seeing nothing but dead plants and brown sand for nearly a week.

Then there was the palace itself, because holy shit, the palace... It was called the Iron Castle due to the fact they’d plated the outside stones with sheets of pure iron. Despite how dry the land was, Donnelly was definitely one rich kingdom to afford a castle like this. It was easily three times larger than ours at home, suffused with at least two dozen towers and a keep in the center that rose above everything else. The moat surrounding it was twice as wide as any I’d ever seen before. And the drawbridge that began to lower as we approached looked as if it could flatten our entire caravan with one swipe.

Overcompensating much? I said, nudging Allera with a snicker.

Hush, she chastised, smacking my knee lightly, even though a smile of agreement twinkled in her eyes. I think it’s simply magnificent.

I shrugged, refusing to rain any kind of verbal praise on the place.

Before I could find a flaw to critique, a deep resounding cadence pounded from the drum tower, swiftly followed by the chorus of trumpets, performing a familiar melody.

Oh, Allera said, brightening with pleasure. Oh! They’re playing High Cliff’s anthem to greet us. What a lovely welcome. She turned to me. I’m liking Donnelly already.

I rolled my eyes but, for her, refused to say what I was really thinking, like this was too pleasant to be trusted. We were probably only being led into a trap where they either killed us as soon as we entered the gate or threw us in their dungeon before demanding some kind of reward from Father for our return.

Tensing as the wheels under us rolled onto the drawbridge, filling the carriage with a different tone—a more ominous timbre—I glanced warily out the window, not liking how trapped I felt. This would be the perfect place for them to launch their attack.

When my gaze caught on the barbican we were about to pass through, however, the guards inside it eyed us curiously from both sides, a few even waving with wide, cheerful, goofy grins.

I frowned and sat back in my seat. Not very daunting, were they? That was honestly no way to receive foreigners. It made the soldier in me mutter until I actually wanted a crack at training these idiots, teach them the proper way to look strong and intimidating to newcomers from distant lands.

Once we cleared the gatehouse and entered a lower bailey, a bald man in brown friar robes rushed toward the side of the carriage, hollering, and immediately making me reach for my sword, until he added, Welcome, my lady, as he jogged a few steps along with us so he could get a look at my sister and wave.

I growled deep in my throat, ready to tell the fool to get back before I ripped his spine out through his asshole.

Seriously, what was wrong with these people? They should distrust us just as much as I distrusted them.

But Allera set a hand on my wrist, stopping me before I could skewer the friar through. Smiling graciously, she waved back to the robed moron. Thank you, kind sir. Your greeting is most appreciated.

Pfft. Her freaking kind bleeding heart was going to get us killed someday.

As our caravan left the friar behind, I shook my head, frowning. What a peculiar place. I couldn’t decide if the entire kingdom was just that naïve or if all this pleasantry was part of the grand trap they were about to spring on us.

Allera sent me a warning glance. Open-minded, remember?

Making a face, I clutched the sword at my side and nodded before cracking my neck from one side to the other. Open-minded. Sure. Until they tried to kill us, anyway.

We came to the gateway that led into the middle bailey, and there, we were instructed by the guards to leave the carriage because we were to separate ourselves from the servants we’d brought with us and walk the rest of the way on foot.

I opened the door and glanced around for danger. Unable to spot any, I reluctantly folded down the steps and hopped to the ground before managing to somehow angle my body so I could assist Allera on her descent and not turn my back to a single guard.

A dignitary whose bangs on his blond hair were clipped far too short stepped forward, bearing a scroll under one arm. My return scowl seemed to disconcert him, making him shy a step back. After fumbling to unroll the scroll with shaking hands, he read us the greeting, then let us know he would lead us to the Throne Room where King Caulder and his brother Prince Brentley were waiting to receive us.

Allera was all smiles and patient nods, thanking the man. I stood stonily at her elbow until we set off after Short Bangs. Wrapping both hands around the front buckle of my sword belt, I strode beside her, back rigid and gaze alert, as I took in the beauty of the palace.

Everything here seemed new and clean. Spotlessly perfect, in fact. I couldn’t find a flaw anywhere in all its excellence. Which made me itch.

Literally.

I shook my head at the insistent sensation that quite abruptly wouldn’t leave me, and I scratched my temple heartily.

Didn’t help.

When I kept scratching it, Allera shifted closer to me and hissed from the side of her mouth, "What the devil are you doing? Stop that. You’re going to make our entire clan look like deranged lunatics by the way you keep fondling your eye."

I can’t help it. My fingernails raked relentlessly over the spot on the side of my left eye, unable to make the skin stop prickling. My mark’s itching like a bastard.

Well, you know what that means, don’t you? She sounded irritated. "And I said stop scratching it already. People are staring."

In front of us, Short Bangs glanced back curiously. Offering him a tight smile, I dropped my hand back to my belt, and he faced forward again. My smile instantly morphed into a glare, which I shot Allera’s way.

How was it that she still talked down to me as if I were a child? I’d led battles, controlled my own fleet of ships, bedded some of the most beautiful, exotic women in three realms, and gotten the king of Lowden—an evil dictator infused with dark magic—to kneel before me because of my intimidating presence after my army had defeated his. Yet Allera wiped all that prestige away with a single, degrading glance.

Older sisters could suck the man right out of a fellow, I swear.

"What does it mean, oh wise one? I mocked moodily, winking one eye so it would wrinkle that cheek in an effort to alleviate the sensation without actually touching it. That didn’t help either, dammit. That I’m allergic to the kingdom of Donnelly? I could’ve told you that."

I glanced around at the servants who’d stopped working to watch us pass. Even they looked clean and well-clothed. It was just plain weird. And suspicious. Could one kingdom really have this much wealth and good standing with their peasants and be so goddamn welcoming?

No, you nimrod, Allera sighed and shook her head. It means your one true love is near.

Forgetting about the peculiarity of my surroundings, I stopped walking and swung around to gape at my sister incredulously.

"The hell you say."

Chapter 2

Urban

"Shh! Don’t stop walking!" Allera backtracked to grab my arm and manually drag me along, earning us another worried glance from the short-banged dignitary. Do you want them to think we’re having second thoughts about this marriage alliance?

I don’t give a fuck what they think. Without lowering my voice, I continued to scowl at her. In front of us, Short Bangs let out a shocked gasp. "And I’m certainly not bound to one of them. You’re quite mistaken."

I snorted and shook my head over the mere idea.

Bound to a Donnellean?

Bull. Shit.

Except a deep fear unfurled inside me. A part of me believed. A person simply couldn’t come from High Cliff and not believe in the signs from their mark, warning them of their mate’s proximity. My one true love must be near. But to me, nothing could be more frightening than becoming bound to anyone from a kingdom I still adamantly thought of as them.

The tingling grew worse.

I muttered a curse under my breath. Dammit. This couldn’t be happening.

Was my one true love really, honestly here? In Donnelly? Donnelly of all fucking places?

Allera glanced at me, her gaze showing a bit of concern. Is it growing stronger?

I gave a barely perceptible nod, my jaw tense with the restraint it took not to touch the afflicted area.

We’re getting closer to her then, she said, quite unnecessarily. She must be part of the royal party.

I shook my head, denying it.

Oh! Allera brightened as if a delightful notion had just struck her. "What if she’s the king’s younger sister? Princess Nicolette is unmarried, you know, and rumored to be a great beauty. Wouldn’t it be just grand if she were your one true love, and you could just marry her to align our kingdoms? Then I wouldn’t have to bind myself to her brother."

I wasn’t sure why that idea panicked me more, but it did. I wanted to spin in the opposite direction and flee.

Yeah, I muttered, tugging at my collar. That’d be just…grand.

Urban, she hissed. I told you not to mess with the mark.

"I’m not," I snapped, dropping my hand from my throat. My fingers had been a good eight inches away from the goddamn mark.

In front of us, two rows of guards lined the entrance of the keep. The duo closest to the doors stepped toward each other to open them so we could pass through. I nearly planted my feet in the ground and refused to move another step, but my annoying sister sent me a death glare that kept me walking relentlessly forward, following Short Bangs inside.

I ground my teeth once we made our way into the keep.

Fuck me, she’s here, I whispered desperately. "She’s in here. Somewhere. Allera…"

I turned toward her frantically, panicking, not sure what to do. My one true love was near, and I was about to meet her. How the hell was I supposed to handle this?

Just keep yourself together, Allera instructed, trying to talk me through my anxiety from the side of her mouth as she kept looking straight ahead. "Whenever you see her, don’t react. I’m serious. Whatever you do… Do not react. Do you understand me? Not even the twitch of a muscle. We’ll figure this out after our meeting with the king and his brother. Everything will be fine."

I gaped at her as if she were insane, because fine? How the hell was this fine? I was about to meet my soul mate. But the paleness of Allera’s features caused me to remember she was also about to meet a complete stranger she was going to marry and share a bed with and have children with, and kiss and… Well, partake in many intimacies with. And she didn’t even have her mark any longer to assure her it would be a good match. Her mark had faded when her one true love had died nearly a year before.

I suddenly wished maybe my one true love was this sister of the king after all—Nicolette or whatever her name was—so I could spare Allera from her sacrifice. I mean, shit, if I were going to be bound to a Donnellean, it might as well be for a good cause, right?

Ah fuck, I was bound to a fucking Donnellean. How was this happening? I wasn’t ready.

Actually, I wasn’t prepared to tie myself to any woman, no matter where she lived. I knew I was supposed to put faith in the mark and who it paired me to, but… Why now? There were too many changes happening at once. Why would fate fuck me over like this? I needed a moment to breathe and just… Deal with it all.

I liked being a bachelor: flirting with whomever I wanted, bedding beautiful willing women who only wanted me to pleasure them for a short while before we both went our separate ways. I didn’t want to settle down and tie myself to just one person. I knew nothing about relationships and commitment and all that muck.

Reaching out, I took Allera’s hand and squeezed, because we were in the same boat now, doomed to fates with foreign strangers.

She squeezed back and refused to let go.

I shifted closer and murmured, Have I told you you’re the bravest sister I ever had?

I had no idea how she was facing this. I wanted to run and never look back.

She snorted, but a smile wavered on her lips, and she seemed to relax a small measure.

In front of us, Short Bangs reached the end of the grand hall where he opened the doors to the great Throne Room. As he stepped to the right and called our names, Allera and I entered side by side.

Here is where I normally would’ve rolled my eyes at all the unnecessary extravagances that decorated the enormous marble room. But yeah, was I still inside? I didn’t know, couldn’t care. My surroundings no longer mattered to me. The only thing my body could register was the unceasing buzz of awareness my mark kept emitting.

Abruptly letting go of my hand to stride forward, Allera left me behind to follow her, her chin up and head held regally high.

I kept two steps behind, like a good bodyguard, proud to be her brother.

Yet all the while, the sensation in my mark heightened, nearly making me wince and double over. My one true love was definitely among the royal court. As a servant or noble-born, I had no clue, but she was here, in this very room. My mark was nearly screaming over her vicinity.

And then the sensation changed. Like sunshine blasting out the darkness, or immediate pleasure soothing away pain, fear morphing into comfort, the mark stopped feeling bothersome and terrifying, and it started feeling…good.

Reassuring and warm.

So damn warm.

And lovely.

The awareness of her spiraled through my nervous system, sparking unexpected spurts of electrical tingling here and there until, fuck… It seemed to throb hot and heavy straight out the end of my cock. I swallowed back a moan, and my eyes momentarily crossed.

But what the hell?

I swear, I was a split second from coming in my damn trousers.

Forgetting all anxiety about this unexpected turn of events and how much I wanted to resist the draw, I started to grow impatient. Needy. And I needed… I just needed to… This made no sense, but I swear I only needed…her.

She alone could abate this restless heat climbing from my soul and escaping through my pores.

I told myself not to eagerly scan the room like a randy fool, but the urges inside me were strong and insistent, and they just kept growing. I had to see her.

Maybe turning away from a chance to bed many partners in order to belong only to my one true love wouldn’t be so bad after all, because the high I was experiencing was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I was ready to throw her over my shoulder and whisk her away to the first private room we found. My cock was so painfully hard, I swear the mere way it brushed against the inside of my britches was making it pulse.

My blood surged in my veins and my heart pounded incessantly.

I wanted her. Now.

I wasn’t sure if I managed to look disinterested and disdainful as I leisurely took in my surroundings, searching for her, but that was the goal. I didn’t want anyone to see any weakness in me. Besides, Allera had said not to react, and she’d gone through this before, so she should know. But goddamn…

My one true love was right here. In this room. I needed to be with her. Pretending she wasn’t close felt all kinds of wrong.

Ah. Princess Allera. Prince Urban. Royal son and daughter of the house of Bjorn from the southern realm of High Cliff. Welcome. The man seated at the main throne stood and smiled amiably before he hurried down the steps to approach us, his hands outstretched. We have eagerly awaited your arrival.

Well, he was certainly a friendly sort. Father never stood and went to his visitors to receive them. He usually remained seated at his throne, waiting with a stony expression until they bent the knee and bowed first. Then and only then did he deign to even acknowledge whoever was in front of him.

Not that I really cared about the differences in the two kings at the moment. I was too busy hoping the chain mail hanging off my sword belt was efficiently covering proof of my desire for my one true love.

I’m Caulder of Donnelly. The young king shook with Allera first, clasping her single hand with both of his. He didn’t look much older than us, which settled my mind a bit about his younger brother. At least my sister wouldn’t be bound to a man three times her age. She would hate that.

King Caulder had a head full of thick, dark hair that held a fashionable wave and agreeable features. If Prince Brentley looked half as decent as him, I had a feeling Allera would be satisfied with at least the visage of her new spouse.

The young king turned to me next, giving me the same open, amiable greeting he’d given my sister.

I nodded, or at least I hope I nodded in greeting, but I couldn’t focus on him. She was looking at me. My one true love. I could feel her studying me, weighing my appearance.

It was the most discerning sensation I’d ever felt in my life, almost like a physical caress, and what was worse, I couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw or not.

Great. Now on top of everything else, I was nervous about whether she was pleased with me or not. I’d never been self-conscious before. I didn’t much like it.

And this is my brother, Prince Brentley of House Donnelly. Caulder stepped aside to reveal a shorter, portly version of himself.

I spent a few seconds blocking the roaring urges in my blood in order to study the man who would become my brother-in-law. He looked even kinder and more naïve than the king, which actually eliminated many worries I had about him. I certainly didn’t want a cruel, arrogant, strict tyrant for Allera. She was much too free-spirited to be tied down. If she was being forced into a marriage, this guy might actually do perfectly for her.

Honestly, the only thing that wasn’t easing my mind was this damn mark pulsing against my eye. It kept sending jolting, electrical pulses through me, making my body heat irrationally and my cock thicken like a motherfucker.

Was it going to do this every time she was near? That would drive me batty. How did all the marked couples who’d found each other handle it? Did they just spend most days fucking, or what?

At the moment, I could totally get behind a plan like that.

After Brentley greeted Allera, gawking and blushing and stumbling over his words because he seemed immediately smitten with her, he finally turned to me.

I put a tighter grip on this handshake than I had with the king, but my sister’s betrothed only grinned goofily as if he understood he was being put to a test. I had to respect that.

I gave Brentley a courteous nod. Prince Brentley, I murmured. It’s an honor.

All the while, I just wanted to shout, someone introduce me to my one true love, so I can tackle her against the nearest available wall and rut a dreamy smile onto both our faces.

I swear, keeping that demand in was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

Brentley laughed uneasily at my formal greeting as if embarrassed by such respect, his round cheeks turning bright pink. Bowing his head, he returned the sentiment. Likewise, Prince Urban.

King Caulder motioned to someone behind them. Then this is our first cousin, Sir Soren, also of House Donnelly. He is my top advisor and closest friend.

Who the fuck cared? Where was my woman, already?

But I stood patiently, every muscle in my body tense and alert as Sir Soren snapped to attention. With light hair that was long and tied back at his nape, Soren had a narrower, pointed face and more colorless, vapid features than his two cousins. He didn’t seem to be as openly friendly as them either.

Reserving his smile, Soren kept a ways back and merely nodded to both Allera and me, his gaze condescending and pompous. His demeanor told me the cousin/best friend/top advisor thought the same of High Cliff folk as I did about Donnelleans—that we were not to be so easily trusted. If my gut instinct was correct—and it usually was—I’d bet Sir Soren had advised King Caulder not to marry his brother off to Allera, alliances be damned.

So my first impression: Sir Soren seemed like a dick.

A more dickish dick than I.

But I didn’t care about him either. I just wanted to meet my damn one true love.

And this is my sister, Princess Nicolette Donnelly. When Caulder splayed his hand to the right, I paused, anticipating feeling a punch of longing when I faced her.

But when I turned… Nothing.

Allera had been right. The princess honestly was one of the rarest beauties I had ever seen. But I still released a breath of gratitude when my mark didn’t focus on the dark-headed girl, glad my bond wasn’t for the princess. She was quite young, just a teen from the looks of it. It would’ve been agony to have to wait years before I could wed her… And thus bed her.

Because I wanted to bed my one true love today… Right now.

My brother Olivander’s one true love was only fifteen and half his age. He’d met her when she was just a babe, and as soon as she’d hit puberty, he’d sent her off to a boarding school to avoid temptation, where he refused to see her again until she was a proper age to wed. The last few years had been a miserable, difficult time for him. He’d become quite moody and irrational. It would wreck me if I had to suffer through the same fate as him and wait so long for my mate.

I barely paid Nicolette any attention as I took her hand, but I noticed Allera’s avid gaze on us as we greeted each other, probably hoping the young princess was my intended match after all. Glancing at her, I gave a slight shake to my head.

Her shoulders lowered fractionally, the only disappointment she would dare show.

And please excuse my wife, King Caulder said, flashing a dismissive wave of his hand over his shoulder toward his throne. She’s remained seated with her sister. Movement becomes quite difficult and cumbersome at this stage in the pregnancy, I hear.

Caulder continued to motion his white-gloved hand toward the dais, where two honey-blonde-headed, dark-eyed women sat talking with each other in bejeweled chairs next to the king’s seat. One wore red. One wore blue. When they noticed everyone’s attention on them, they stopped chattering and waved to us, calling out pleasant greetings.

Caulder turned back from them, an affectionate smile lingering on his lips, before he prattled on about…something. But I couldn’t pry my attention from the two sisters, where my one true love sat, swollen with pregnancy.

Chapter 3

Urban

My chest compacted, making breathing impossible, and my mark pulsed uncontrollably, until my vision blurred, which panicked me because I didn’t want to stop looking at her. From what I’d seen, she’d been so pretty, all her thick, blonde hair swept up in a large bun to display the curve of her jaw, her pointed chin, the length of her graceful neck. Her eyes had been dark and soulful and her nose pert and short.

And she’d been mine. My one and only. My mate and one true love.

I blinked rapidly until, ah…there. She came back into focus. Thank God.

My happily ever after rested on the shoulders of this very woman… Who was quite obviously full with another man’s child.

At first, I didn’t understand that part. Because, really, what?

My one true love was pregnant? That didn’t make sense. I hadn’t even met her yet. I mean, the need for her was strong, but not strong enough to impregnate her from across the room with my desire alone.

Or was it?

Shit, this was just all wrong.

How could she be…? She wouldn’t. Except, okay, she wasn’t from High Cliff and didn’t believe in our marking ritual or one true loves. Of course, she had no reason to wait for hers to show up.

Which apparently she hadn’t.

Fuck!

Sweat coated my brow. Needles prickled my abdomen, making nausea swell up my throat. My vision dimmed again. I wasn’t sure how I remained upright.

But… Jesus Christ on the cross, the woman who was supposed to become the love of my life was already taken.

My lungs heaved, and breathing picked up. Only the fingernails biting into my flesh from my sister’s hand when she touched my arm was able to draw my attention away from my heart’s purpose… The woman who could make me the happiest… My one fucking true love.

I turned to Allera frantically, seeking support, but she wasn’t looking at me; she was too busy smiling politely and answering a question the king had asked her.

"Yes, it was a good trip. Thank you for asking. But long. So very long. I fear it’s worn both me and my brother quite to the bone."

She finally looked up at me. The pointed glare in her eyes told me to shape up and pay attention. We were here to align our kingdoms, not tear them apart by me stealing one of its royal women from whichever man expected a baby with her any day now.

I clenched my teeth, not at all pleased by Allera announcing to everyone that I was some weakling who couldn’t handle a bit of travel, but at the moment, any excuse to evacuate this room was welcome. If I couldn’t carry my one true love away and bed her right now, then fuck it, I had to flee before I strode up there and fell at her feet, bellowing about my rage and sorrow.

Goddamn. What was wrong with me?

I didn’t do shit like that.

I didn’t even know that woman.

Spinning to King Caulder, I blurted, Would it be rude of me to ask to be shown to my chambers now?

Allera gaped at me, and yep, she

Reviews for One True Love

[Biva Siddiki · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Excellent story telling and character development. Though the climax was quite easy to figure out it was definitely a fun read.