Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Thirty-Three

"You're pregnant," he emphasized. "You should be taking the time to care for yourself and this baby, instead of worrying yourself sick over a man that may or may not be dead."

"What I should be doing is not your concern."

He bristled visibly, and rubbed at his beard with his knuckle. "No. I suppose it isn't. But I won't let you put this camp at risk."

"Put it at risk? I'm the reason you're all safe."

"We could have achieved any of this without you."

I almost laughed at that. "Then why didn't you?"

"You're not the only Daughter of the King around, Olya," he raised his voice, his hand curling into a fist on the armrest, clenching and unclenching. "Fay is fertile, too. She has a child, too. She has the same abilities as you. She could have done everything you have."

"Then why didn't she?"

"You need to learn to control your emotions better than this!" he suddenly shouted. "I know you care about this man, but that's not the only thing that matters right now."

The baby started crying upstairs, shattering the night, and we both fell silent as we listened to the slow, tired footsteps of Fay getting out of bed and crossing the rooms above.

When the upstairs went quiet again, I rose to my feet and crossed the room towards him. He watched me closely, as though trying to decipher which one of us was the hunter and which one was the prey. There was something animalistic in both of us that always seemed to be at odds.

"Don't lecture me about my emotions, Bjorn. You can't even keep your voice down." I leaned close as I spoke, dropping my voice to a steady whisper. "We will shut down these factories. We've done without them before, or have you already forgotten? Have you already gotten used to the good life?"

His lip pulled back slightly, a flash of vampire teeth.

"And when Gunnar is returned to me, we would be glad to get out of your way."

He shook his head. "You think once it's all said and done, that your mother is going to sit happily on her throne back there in her big city of roses, all the while knowing we have full control of the factories? You think she's just going to let that happeb?"

"Is that what you're worried about? Revealing ourselves?" I asked. "She won't come after us."

"You can't know that," he said. "She still has control of the majority of the troops. She could send them to bomb us at any moment."

"Bjorn," I said patiently, "to do that would be to destroy her only source of goods. I chose this place for a reason. We're safe here."

He grumbled, the sound emanating from deep in his chest, like a grumpy bear.

He must have known I was right.

"We have control of the factories. She won't have a choice but to accept things as they are." I straightened up and gazed down at him in the semi-darkness. "And if you get Gunnar back to me, you won't have to see me again. That's a promise."

I knew that's what he wanted.

He paused, as though considering, sharp green eyes narrowed at my face. Then he said, "I look forward to it."

I laughed at that, before walking out of the room and out the front door, without so much as a backward glance or a goodbye.

The man was entertaining, if nothing else.

"Where have you been?" Zelle came out of the shadows when I arrived home.

"Have you been waiting?" I teased, walking back up the stairs towards her.