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Prologue
Demon prince problems sounded like such privileged rich boy bullshit. Yet Alexei Maronov couldn’t figure out a way to find his fated mate fast enough to save him from an arranged political marriage. If he hadn’t met his promised love in the past sixteen years, the chance of her walking into his life in the next few days didn’t seem too likely.
Yanking his coat tighter around him to stop the biting sting of the cold wind, he ignored the bodyguards trailing him into Moscow’s Sokolniki Park. He could wipe out the city in an instant if he lost control of his magic. Others needed protectingfromhim, not the other way around. His powers surged through him in dizzying throbs, wanting to lash out against the mess he’d gotten himself into.
He couldn’t wait to return to his family’s stronghold in America. Give him a few years of managing the Los Angeles territory, and he would build the demon hybrids into a force that the witches and shifters would fear—with or without a princess for a bride.
Shouts of laughter came from a group of teenagers about his age. He fought the urge to glance in their direction to see what might be so funny. Joining in wouldn’t be an option. Not only did the humans not know about supernaturals, but if the other teens happened to be like him, then a prince wouldn’t be welcome. His name brought fear and respect, not friendship.
“Stop,please.” A girl’s raised demand in foreign-accented Russian cut across the ice and snow to him the same as if she’d fired one of the makeshift blowtorches that his younger sister created in her lab.
Staring through the tangle of teenaged testosterone, he caught a glance of someone smaller than the boys around her. She fought to reach a book from one of the taller bullies who held it high over her head.
Alexeihatedbullies.
“You’ll ruin it.” Her voice called to him—a draw as strong and sure as gravity. He could no sooner walk away from her than fly without exposing his wings.
Switching directions, he headed off the main pathway, using the crunch of gravel, ice, and dead leaves beneath his feet to calm his anger. Not that it worked. His rage grew the closer he got to her pitiful pleas. The surge of magic sizzling beneath his skin promised retaliation. An imperious glare had his bodyguards backing off.
“Otyebis ot neye,” he called out to the three boys crowded around the girl.Get the fuck away from her.
The tall bully with the book in his hand spun with a sneer that turned to shock and then fear.
“Oh good,” Alexei continued in Russian. “You recognize me.”
The asshole’s pale skin leeched of all color. “Vashe Vysochestvo.” He said the title of Your Highness as though it was a death sentence.
Which it might be if thezasranecdidn’t give the girl back her book.
“Are you all right?” Alexei asked the girl who looked about his sister’s age and size—maybe around eight years old but skinny as if she hadn’t eaten in days. The threadbare brown coat she wore couldn’t have blocked much of the bone-deep chill in the air.
“Da.” While she answered his Russian question in the same language, he couldn’t place her accent. American? British? She stared at the ground, hiding her face. Her long hair spilled out of a braid in unusual shades of bronze, gold, and copper that reminded him of his mother’s decor designed to flaunt their position and wealth.
“Do you know theseboys?” he asked, emphasizing the last word because no man would need to prove himself by terrorizing a kid. A pull of worry that he’d only felt for family knotted in his gut, and he wished he had the magic to read her emotions or to send her enough reassurance that she would look at him.
“Nyet.” She kept her head bowed.
“Have they hurt you?”
“Nyet,” she said.
He wasn’t convinced. She didn’t have fresh bruises or marks, but blood stained her clasped hands and her hairline. Staring at the bully, he told him, “Hand over her book and anything else you took from her.”
The boy did as ordered, a flash of anger sparking his gaze.
Alexei couldn’t let that insult go. He flicked a look over all three teenaged boys. “I could kill you. Do you think anyone would come against the Maronov prince?”
One of the jerks pissed his pants, the stink of urine and dark stain spreading along the fabric and the snow beneath giving him away.
Good. They wouldn’t be so quick to harass anyone else under his protection. The instinct to defend her had him freezing in place.
What the hell? This girl didn’t give off demon hybrid vibes, and he didn’t go around saving people. Yet he couldn’t leave her. His magic snapped toward her as if wrapping a shield around her. No way could he lose control of his powers.
Not here.
Not now.
Not ever.
