A Taste From You

Tonight was the night.

This was it. Months of waiting, months of biding my time. Months of my obsession, and of watching that obsession become betrothed to another man. A lesser man. Hell, not even a man, not by my standards, and sure as fuck not one that had any business being with a girl like her.

But that was all ending tonight.

Tonight, her wedding night. Only there wasn't going to be a wedding - at least, not to him.

You might say it's poor form to throw the bride over your shoulder caveman-style and run off with her, most especially if it's not your wedding. Possibly worse if the actual groom is a rival king. You might say all those things, and you might even be right. But then, King Milton Maneford shouldn't have invited me, not when she was to be his bride.

Princess Callie Hearst, of Arbor.

My addiction. My compulsion. My obsession.

I suppose I'm not a man who should have had anything to do with her either. A king I might be, but there was nothing "gentlemanly" about me. My rough hands wanted one thing and one thing only, and that was to hold her and never let her go.

Princess Callie. My Callie.

I knew who she was before Milton announced, of course. I'd already had my eye on her for, well, longer than I had any business having eyes on her, I'll say that. But Milton had swooped in to rain gifts and money on her slightly cash-strapped parents - the King and Queen of Arbor. He'd snatched her up, right before I could make my own move.

I'd hated him before. After that, I wanted to bury him for being anywhere near an angel like her.