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Lila retrieved her things from the back room and promptly left, clearly disturbed by what had occurred on her shift. Fletcher then snapped his fingers at his enforcers, pointing at the entry door.
“Frank, make sure she gets home safe. Sal, call Barry and get him to look at the security system. When Frank gets back, I want you both to stay and guard the place if the outage can’t be resolved. Understood?”
The faithful soldiers nodded and left, the chime of the door a bleak reminder of the turmoil that had gone on here today.
Fletcher’s kingly stance disappeared, and her man came back to life. He moved behind the counter and pulled her into his arms. It was abrupt, but it forced out the sobs Madison had been swallowing the entire afternoon.
She pressed her face into his hard, wonderful chest and let it all out. The musky fragrance of his sweat engulfed her nostrils, comforting her, accepting her pain as it all poured from the past into that single moment. He stroked her hair and swayed slightly, never implying a premature halt to a moment of raw distress that she didn’t need to be witnessed by the others.
When she had finished, she felt a cathartic rush of bliss similar to the feeling she’d had when standing under the white cherry blossom tree. She raised her head from the king’s chest and brushed her tears from her cheeks.
“Better?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes,” she nodded, only sniffling a bit.
“I’m going to make this right, Madison. I know how much this store means to you. To your family, your magical legacy. I won’t let anyone intimidate my future bride. These assholes are going to pay.”
Madison knew what he meant because she had seen the same look of revenge in her father’s eyes before. It would likely be a public punishment, a form of humiliation that her father was a fan of. They had to be made examples of, especially because she was going to be their future ruler. Something about it brought that sick feeling up again. She grimaced, then clapped at her belly.
“Ugh,” she groaned.
“Let’s get you home. You need to rest, my darling.”
TWELVE
FLETCHER
Fletcher wasn’t only the King of Willowfrost … he was the king of scent detection. Technically, all shifters were gifted with the ability to decipher specific scents when entangled with others … nearly a thousand more than the average human snout … but some, like him, were better than others.
After losing his father at a young age and becoming one of the junior rulers in the four realms, Fletcher found out how quickly those around him changed. He had always been the son of the royal wolves and had been treated with a certain modicum of privilege, but it was nothing compared to the utter alteration of priorities and values he witnessed firsthand.
Friends that he had attended school with either disappeared or began asking for favors that were unreasonable and farfetched. Servants, housekeepers, and nannies all stopped looking at him as the young heir who would one day become the King of Willowfrost. People he had watched his father and mother negotiate with became slimy manipulators with solely selfish intentions.
It could have made him bitter, and it did for a good handful of years. But soon enough, inspired by the consistent loyalty from his beta and good friend, Trenton, he realized there was something he could do that would see through the very souls of those attempting to hoodwink him. He would train himself in the art of scent detection.
So he did, tirelessly, outside his kingly duties and within the privacy of his chambers. He hired a wise old shifter who had taught scent detection to his father’s militaries. He was tested and bested but ultimately became a scholar on the practice and subject, all while under the guise of a foolish young man’s rule.
It was something that had been threaded so deeply into his being that he hadn’t made a point of informing Madison about it. He ruminated on it as he drove her back to the palace, his heart saddened and enraged by the sight of her crestfallen demeanor as she peered out the window. It would have to wait, of course. She needed rest, reassurance, and, most of all, action.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?”
They were in their private chambers, the king standing with his hands behind his back to keep himself from fiddling. He was distracted, thinking about the wolf whom he had discerned out of the noise of the store’s various smells, but he wanted to make sure Madison was comfortable first.
She chuckled, emerging from the bathroom in her robes. Her hair was cast over one shoulder, shiny in its chestnut and auburn hues. She sat on the edge of the bed. The bags under her eyes had deepened to bruise-colored indents.
“Don’t we have people for that?” she joked.
Fletcher sat next to her on the bed. He cupped a hand over hers and squeezed it lightly, her fragility making him mournful.
“I want you to get everything you want right now, Madison. I am going to take care of everything tonight so we can get the store back up and running as soon as possible. You deserve that and so much more.”
Madison made the effort to smile at him, but he could tell that her spirits were dim. It was a discouraging sight.
“Thank you, honey. I know you mean it. I just want to lie down right now. I’ll call the kitchen if I want to eat anything.”
He hooked her chin, which made her eyes glitter. “You have to eat something,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“I will,” she murmured. “I promise you.”
