A Royal Rebellion Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  A Royal Rebellion

  Bred For Love Book Three

  By

  Revella Hawthorne

  Bred For Love

  Book Three

  A Royal Rebellion

  Copyright © 2015 SJ Himes

  Writing as Revella Hawthorne

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Amanda Coolong

  Cover art by

  Book Cover By Design

  http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk/index.html

  All artwork, series emblems and designs by

  Kellie Dennis of Book Cover By Design

  Property of SJ Himes

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you are reading a pirated version or a copy of this e-book that you did not purchase yourself, or was not gifted/loaned to you through allowable and legal means, please keep in mind that you have effectively stolen this e-book. That means you have taken money directly from the author, making it harder for the author to continue to write.

  Please purchase your own copy, and remember to review.

  Dedication

  I want to dedicate this book to the fans of the series. Honestly, all of you keep me going. A huge thank you to the members of the Mpreg Book Rec group on Facebook. The support and interest you have all shown in the series is what helps keep me going.

  I almost didn’t finish this book on time. Severe health issues, living arrangement problems, and then moving 1400 miles away from hearth and home to start over put me so far behind that it is a miracle this book is done.

  A clean slate is what I needed, and hopefully the stories in my head will benefit the most.

  Thank you to Andrea. For everything. Literally, everything.

  To Kellie, for the artwork--you leave me breathless with your talent.

  Amanda C., for your patience and time.

  To friends and family, for believing in me–

  Thank you.

  Prologue

  ***

  At the end of all things…

  ***

  Screams ripped apart the expectant silence.

  The men waiting outside in the narrow hall all jumped, and the oldest of them gripped the youngest man’s shoulder, holding him up just as much as imparting comfort. There was no power, their battle fought earlier having knocked everything down but what the generator was running in the make-shift operating room. They were too tired to pace, too drained emotionally and mentally to do more than flinch every time the precious life in the next room cried out in pain.

  “Please, let them live,” whispered the youngest, eyes drawn tight, sweat dripping down his face to blend with his tears of frustration and fear. The silver at his temples belied his age, and the lines long his eyes were deepened by grief. “Please, by the grace of the Saints and the Blood of Our Line, let them live….”

  A wail, thin and hopeless. The second man swore viciously and spun, punching the wall, the sound of something breaking filling the empty quiet that fell just as suddenly. The oldest barely reacted, swallowing, the youngest grew taut as cable, and vibrated in horrific tension. Two of the three people he loved most in this world were in there now, fighting to bring a fourth into the world.

  The door behind them creaked open, a bare sliver of light spilling into the darkness where they waited. The youngest spun, tottering as he almost fell over, and he anxiously approached the light, hoping even as he despaired. The oldest, gray-haired and used to death, watched impassively, accepting of whatever outcome. The second man gripped the youngest’s shoulder, keeping him upright.

  “Are they…” he swallowed, and tried again, asking the form standing in the doorway, the light haloed behind the figure making features impossible to discern.

  “Edward, is Percy…Is Percy alive? The baby?”

  Chapter One

  ***

  All new things begin with hope.

  ***

  Percy

  “Hold on!” Reynard shouted, taking the corner too fast, the left side wheels coming up off the ground. Tires squealed, and Edward pulled Percy closer to his side. The sleek car roared forward, the city streets not as narrow the further they got from Mason’s neighborhood.

  The deception must have been discovered. Barely thirty minutes had passed since they left Mason’s townhouse. The two black cars behind them were as expensive as the one they were in, and were so close on their tail Percy feared they were about to be rear-ended. Percy squeezed his eyes shut and clung to Edward. The speed, the sharp turns, the blaring of horns from other vehicles all left Percy screaming in terror.

  A hard thump almost sent Percy to the floor. Edward shouted at Reynard, holding Percy tightly to his chest, and another harsh acceleration pressed them to the seat.

  “Saint’s blood, Reynard, if the guards don’t kill us first, this chase will! End it!”

  “I’m trying not to kill the guards!” Reynard shouted back, sending them around another corner.

  “It’s obvious they don’t care about whether or not they kill us or anyone else on the streets! End this now, and get us out of here!”

  “Yes, my prince!” The car shot forward again, but then Reynard did something, and Percy moaned, desperately trying not to get sick, as they spun. Percy felt the car stop, and Reynard got out. There was a tremendous bang and thump off to the right, followed by a loud cacophony of gunshots. Shouts, screams, orders to halt, followed by some more shots.

  Silence.

  Percy opened his eyes. It was quiet, the engine purring. The city street was empty, pristine in front of them, and Percy lifted his head, trying to spot Reynard.

  Edward grabbed his head, and pressed his face to his hard chest. “Don’t look, Percy. Keep your head down.”

  “Is he...is Reynard…?”

  “I’m fine, Perseus,” Reynard said, getting back in the car and shutting the door. The scent of ozone and something metallic filled the car, and Reynard buckled his belt.

  Reynard drove, fast but not as fast as before. Edward let his head up, and Percy leaned on the front seat, worried, but Reynard looked fine. The captain gave him a smile, and jerked his chin, and Percy sat back.

  There was no way he was asking what happened to the guards pursuing them. He could guess, and he had no wish to be sick in the car thinking about it.

  Edward gathered him close again, and Percy snuggled on his lap. Percy put a hand on Edward’s leg, and he frowned, pulling it back up.

  He had blood on his hand. Edward was bleeding.

  ***

  Percy

  A flutter. A simple, tiny, hesitant movement, but it was enough for Percy to catch his breath, and hold very still, hoping to feel it again. His hand smoothed down his borrowed cotton shift, the swell of his abdomen still so new to him. He waited, hoping, but his c
hild fell back into slumber and grew quiet.

  “Perseus! I need those bandages!” Reynard shouted from the other room, and Percy jumped, remembering why he was in the bathroom to begin with. He grabbed the stack of white bandages from under the sink, and ran back to the front of the cottage.

  Edward was naked from the waist down, a small pillow over his groin for Reynard’s sake, since the former captain was kneeling at the blood prince’s feet where he sat on an old couch. Edward’s thigh was bleeding, his sutures from the gunshot injury and the resultant surgery ripped in several places. Blood ran down the thick column of his thigh onto the couch, and Percy nearly tripped over his own feet at the sight. Luckily he was close enough to Reynard all the captain needed to do was reach out and take the bandages from his hand.

  “Little one, please breathe,” Percy shook his head at his master’s voice, and gave him a sheepish smile. Edward was watching him, dark eyes glittering. “Come sit with me.”

  Percy took Edward’s outstretched hand, settling beside him on the couch as Reynard wiped blood from the incisions. Fresh blood welled up to take its place, and Percy turned away, burying his head in Edward’s firm shoulder. A hand came to rest in his hair, and tousled the long strands. He kept meaning to ask for some shears so he could cut his hair, but Edward’s delight in the length stayed him every time.

  Edward’s shoulder was warm under his cheek, and Percy melted into his strength. Edward was speaking to Reynard while the other man went about repairing the damage Edward had done to his leg during his escape.

  “Do you think Mason made it out alright?” Edward was asking, referring to the older blood prince’s assistance in Edward’s escape.

  Percy lost track of the long hours since Edward boldly walked out of the hospital, dressed as Mason, fooling everyone in the royal guard, the press, and the public. Where the public believed him to be under protection of the guards for a botched assassination attempt, he’d actually been under arrest for going against his father’s commands and refusing to surrender Percy. It was the brothers’ remarkable similarities to each other that let Edward get away from the hospital and the guards…but it meant Mason had to stay in his place, and Percy was worried for the older blood prince.

  The deception didn’t last long, but it held long enough for them to get out of the city. The car chase was the last they saw of the guards, and Reynard had taken them through hours’ worth of side streets and country roads until they made it to the royal highway. A few hours on the highway, and they stopped to tend to Edward’s leg when the bleeding failed to stop.

  “Your brother has made it out of worse binds than the one he’s in now,” Reynard answered, and Percy peeked to watch as Reynard put neat, tiny stitches in place along the worst of the torn areas in Edward’s leg. Reynard was fast and efficient, and the flesh was swiftly returned to a semblance of order.

  “He saved you. He helped us, and he didn’t have to,” Percy whispered, nibbling on his lip. He had quickly grown fond of the irreverent and mercurial middle son of King Henry the Third. When they first met, Mason alternated between frightening Percy with his too intense regard and teasing his master, but his warm welcome and stalwart support during their ill-fated return to the capital was the only reason the three of them were all alive and together. Percy was terrified that Prince Mason was paying dearly for helping them escape.

  A thumb freed his lip from his teeth, and Percy kissed Edward’s digit as his head was tilted up, to see Edward’s dark, shiny eyes gazing at him with affection.

  “I’m worried, too,” Edward confessed, sighing, shifting on the couch in discomfort. Whether emotional, physical, or both, Percy wasn’t sure. “Mason has always held himself apart, even when we were children. He showed us all only what he wanted us to see. Sarcastic, witty, occasionally cruel. But never outright dishonest, and he never shies from harsh truths. Out of all seven of my siblings, I have always been fondest of him.”

  “He loves you,” Percy said, certain of this fact. He may have doubted Prince Mason in the beginning, wary of his actions and intent, but when Edward was arrested and Percy and Reynard came to Mason for help, the middle prince was unerring in his determination to see Edward and Percy reunited. When Reynard proposed the plan to have Mason substitute himself for Edward, the blood prince hadn’t even hesitated.

  Reynard wrapped Edward’s leg, cushioning the new sutures and securing the thick bandages around Edward’s thigh. The padding was thicker, and would hopefully ease some of his lover’s pain.

  “Done, my prince,” Reynard spoke, standing from his kneeling position. He went to their bags piled along the wall and fetched a new pair of black pants for Edward to wear. Percy scrambled up from the couch, trying to lend his prince a hand but Reynard gently nudged him back. Reynard leaned over and pulled Edward upright with a single arm, and held the prince until he was steady. Reynard handed Percy the pants, and he hurriedly assisted Edward into them while Reynard kept him upright.

  “We need to go,” Edward warned. “We’ve been here too long.”

  “Agreed,” Reynard said, stepping back as Percy helped Edward into his boots. He was no longer wearing Mason’s clothing—they managed to help Edward change them out for an outfit that couldn’t be matched to what he was wearing when he escaped the hospital.

  The bullet had punched through his right upper thigh, nicking the femoral artery, and ripping a decent sized hole out the back of his leg as it exited. Edward could walk, but the wound was still too fresh, that any movement placed him in danger of reopening the artery. Finding a cabin locked up for the winter season just off the highway they’d taken from Cassia City was a stroke of luck. Reynard’s first aid skills were vital in helping Edward, and Percy was incredibly thankful the captain was on their side.

  Percy hovered, hands on his lower belly, fingers linked over the swell where his babe slept. Percy had been relieved when they found the cabin, but Reynard’s caution and Edward’s impatience made it clear that Percy wouldn’t be getting the rest he so desperately needed. They had to keep moving, surely the guards couldn’t be that far behind.

  Reynard moved around Percy, heading for the back of the cabin, but he paused long enough to lift a hand to Percy’s cheek and wipe away a tear he didn’t know he was shedding. “Perseus, everything will be fine.”

  Percy nodded, and Reynard moved on down the hall. Edward’s hand on his shoulder made him turn and Percy snuggled immediately into his embrace, savoring the warmth in the hard muscles and strong arms that held him so tight.

  He risked a glance up, and Edward wasn’t looking at him, but down the hall, where it sounded like Reynard was raiding the supplies in the linen closet. They had plenty from Mason’s place, the blood prince’s generosity more than enough to see them through the next few days, but Percy was quickly coming to understand that Reynard was never too prepared for anything.

  “Edward?” Percy flushed, still not used to calling his master and lover by his given name when there were others nearby to hear. It was a recent development, and while Reynard had known all along that Edward allowed Percy liberties in how they spoke to each other, that still couldn’t erase his nervous tension that someone would one day overhear and object. He was working on his bravery, but a part of him feared he’d never be as brave as Edward or their baby needed.

  Edward blinked, his intense stare dissipating, and he looked down at Percy, smiling. The kiss he gave him was soft and sweet, and Percy melted into him, seeking more.

  ***

  Edward

  Percy tasted sweet and welcoming, and Edward sipped from his lips, taking his time. His little mate’s eager submission to his touch made his blood heat, despite the pain and weakness he was suffering due to his injury. If they weren’t being hunted and if Reynard wasn’t a few feet away, Edward would love to sit back down on the old couch and ravish every single delectable inch of Percy’s body.

  Edward eased away, and he smiled at the dazed and aroused expression in his mate
’s ice-blue eyes. Such beautiful and arresting eyes, eyes that held innocence and strength, compassion and determination. Eyes that made his breath catch, his body sing with captivated lust and interest the first time he saw them at Heritage.

  The fear Percy’s eyes usually showed the world was fading away, day by day, and every time Edward told Percy how much he loved him. His brother Mason once observed that Percy was different, that love was curing his fears. Edward hope it was true, since the days and weeks ahead were going to hold plenty to fear.

  Edward couldn’t resist, and he palmed the gentle bump in Percy’s abdomen where their babe rested. Percy shivered, and curled into him, one of his small hands laying over Edward’s. They both held still, as if listening, but Edward thought it was still too early for their child to be active. One day soon though, and they would be able to feel the movements of the life growing inside.

  “My prince, we must go,” Reynard said, his voice breaking them from their silent communion. Percy leaned on him, and Edward took his weight. Percy was doing so well, but Edward worried for his mate. Percy had little stamina, his life up until the previous month naught but time in a windowless cell, and then weeks of morning sickness left Percy lacking when it came to endurance. Though he was nearly insatiable when aroused, leaving Edward completely depleted and exhausted.

  “I know,” Edward murmured, Reynard walking past them with a linen laundry bag over his broad shoulder, full of purloined supplies form the cabin. Edward put an arm around Percy, and refused to show how even Percy’s slight weight put strain on his leg. The day he was unable to tend to Percy was the day he died.

  Reynard went to the front door, opening it a hair, peeking out into the darkness. It was late at night, and the distant lights of cars on the Royal Highway could be seen through the trees. Cold air swept in and Percy shivered, and Edward blocked him from the worst of the wind as the captain disappeared into the darkness of the front garden. Edward listened, keeping himself from tensing so as not to scare Percy.