Angie Fox: Love Bites

The King remained silent, thoughtful.

He might have the luxury to ponder the old ways, but Kat did not. She might have run away before, but now she was ready to stand up and fight for a new life. Her life. She squared her shoulders and took one bold step towards her father, then another. “I’m not property that you can barter off. I’m a living, thinking being.” She closed the gap between them. “I’ve lived with this for 800 years. Eight hundred years! Don’t you think it’s time I get to choose what I want to do with my life?” She looked at him earnestly, her emotions naked on her face. “It’s my time now.”

Her father rested his thick arms on either side of the chair. He suddenly looked very old. “OK.”

“What?” Kat asked.

“You’re right.” Her father waved his hand. “You’re right. Your mother’s right.” He bit at his thumb and took stock of her. “You know she ran off to Bulgaria when I told her you were to marry right away. Let’s just hope she’s not on a dating show.”

Kat looked at him like he’d sprouted an extra set of fangs. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes.” He nodded. “As long as no more of your future husbands try to kill me. Perhaps your mother is correct when she says you should stay single for a while.” He dug something out of the pocket of his brown velvet waistcoat. “One moment.” It was a BlackBerry. Kat almost fell over as her father started texting. “I’ve been bowing to the pressures of old traditions—” he gave her a knowing look “—but maybe it’s time the King stops bowing.”

She didn’t even know her father owned a phone. Then again, her late husband had forbidden phones, so it wasn’t as if her Dad could have called her anyway.

“There,” the king said, hitting send. He eyed Kat. “Your mother will be thrilled. Everybody else will have to learn to deal with it.”

She drew Finn’s jacket around her and stood before her father. “As long as we’re shaking things up,” she said, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, “I want to date.”

The King’s eyes widened and he tipped forwards in his chair as if she’d just said she wanted to streak naked through Kiev Square.

The Prince barked out a laugh. “Princesses don’t date.”

“Says the old, archaic law that you just changed,” she said to her father.

Volholme frowned. “Who would you even date?”

Kat’s hope surged as Finn stepped forwards.

Finn turned to Kat. The earnestness in his expression almost made her melt. “Katarina,” he said, as he took her hands in his, “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He chose every word carefully. “I care about you too much.”

“What?” Kat and her father both asked.

She couldn’t believe it. Men. No matter how many centuries they lived on this Earth, they were still clueless.

“I have to protect you,” Finn said, as if that explained it.

The King ground a beefy hand over his mouth, thinking. “You know, that’s a good idea,” he said. “I can’t think of a better way to protect my only daughter than to stick her with an empath fairy. Besides,” he said, sizing up Finn, “314 years without a vacation day is too long for anybody.”

“Father!” Katarina rushed to him and clasped his hand to her cheek.

“But what if there’s another assassination attempt?” Finn asked. “You know as well as I do that we’re going to be hearing from Vlad the Impaler.”

“You’re not the only empath fairy on the planet,” the King said. “Relax. Seize the day. Carpe diem and all that.”

Finn couldn’t have looked more shocked if the King had sprouted wings.

Volholme rolled his eyes. “What? You’ve never seen the Dead Poets Society?” The King shrugged. “Never mind. It’s not about vampires anyway.”

Finn broke out into a smile as it finally began to sink in.

Kat swelled with gratitude, hope and pure joy. She couldn’t have hidden it even if she’d wanted to. She ran to him. And that’s all it took for the immortal warrior to surrender.

With a whoop of joy, Finn lifted Katarina in his arms. She revelled in the feel of him as she slid down his body and back to her gold sandalled feet.

The King stiffened. “Just don’t let her out of your sight,” he warned.

Finn wrapped his arms against Kat, his grip warm and steady, his wide mouth set into a permanent grin. “Believe me, I won’t.”