Tangled Crowns

I love him

Stiles pushed the door to the grand library open. The tall bookcases towered over him. It could be an intimidating room with its one large window and dark atmosphere. It was easily the darkest room in the castle. As a young boy, Stiles had been afraid of this room. But his mother taught him to love the books. And where the bookcases used to loom over him, they now towered like a protective wall. He'd spent unwanted hours in this room with tutors. Now, though, he came here of his own accord, seeking the comfort of his mother that he no longer had access to.

He drug his fingers along one of the bookcases, recalling his mother's words. 'Whenever you have questions, little mischief, come here and search. Books carry all sorts of answers.'

It took Stiles several years to understand she hadn't meant that in the literal sense. While some books did carry answers to more obvious questions. He had learned that sometimes the answers were in the meaning, not the words.

"I don't know what to do, Mom," Stiles whispered to the large room. "I love him."

Silence was all that greeted him in return.

There was a gentle tap at the door before Derek's head peered inside.

Stiles' chest clenched at the sight of him. He hesitated in the doorway with pinched brows.

"I thought I saw you go this way." Derek stepped inside. The door clicked behind him loudly. "Do you wish to be alone?"

Stiles, without a word, closed the distance between them. He pressed Derek against the door. His hands wound through his hair eagerly, their lips crashing together in a desperate kiss.

Stiles had felt connection before with other suitors, but nothing like this. He had always been guarded with his heart, choosing to find connection in ways other than physically. But with Derek, he couldn't deny the passion that they shared. Not only was Derek a stunning individual, he was compassionate and loyal. Kind and intelligent.

"Stiles," Derek breathed against his lips. Even the way he said his name was intoxicating. "We shouldn't—"

Stiles cut him off with a deeper kiss. Derek's hands slid around his waist, a sure sign he didn't want to stop.

He trailed kisses along the sharp stubble on Derek's jaw, making him tilt his head back against the door. He wanted nothing but to devour Derek. He didn't care who saw them.

"Stiles," Derek tried again.

"Shh." Stiles tugged Derek's head forward, reconnecting their lips. "Later," he mumbled against them.

Derek, in response, grabbed Stiles' hips, yanking him even closer. Stiles' stomach flitted with butterflies. He'd fought so hard to prove to Derek that their connection was real, and now he could barely believe that Derek was touching him like this.

Stiles' fingers slid from Derek's hair to the buttons on his pants. Derek's hands instantly caught them before they could undo them. "Someone's coming."

Stiles didn't care. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to get lost in Derek. But the panic in Derek's tone made him step back.

Derek fought to straighten himself up, smoothing his clothes and pushing away from the door.

Stiles only watched. He had never been eager to marry. It would happen in time. But right now, watching Derek straighten his jacket, he never wanted anything more. He wanted to marry this man. The idea was a shock to him, though it probably shouldn't have been. He'd fallen head over heels for him the first night in the tavern.

The door opened, pulling Stiles from his thoughts.

"Your Highness," Kira said, her eyes darting between Stiles and Derek. "Your father wishes to see you."