The Princess

Chapter Nine – Subaru’s POV

Damn it.

The sound of my fist slamming into the stone wall echoed through the corridor, dust crumbling from the impact. My knuckles split, blood dripping down, but I didn’t care. It was better to bleed than to think about what I’d just seen.

April. In the garden.

Her hair catching the sun, her blue eyes lost in thought, her body moving like she belonged to some world too soft, too pure for this one.

And the worst part? I could smell it. Ayato was out there watching her. Laito too. Even Kanato’s sick, glassy stare lingered. Reiji was probably calculating her every step, and Shu—damn him—pretending to sleep while listening to her breathe.

All of them wanted her. All of them circling like wolves around something fragile.

I snarled, shoving my bleeding fist into my pocket.

She wasn’t theirs. She wasn’t anyone’s.

But she couldn’t be mine either.

I remembered when she was small, maybe five or six, sneaking into the courtyard at night because she was afraid of Cordelia’s shadow. She thought no one saw her. But I did. I followed her in secret, making sure she didn’t trip on the stones, making sure the night didn’t swallow her whole. When she cried, I wanted to go to her. I wanted to hold her, to promise she was safe. But I didn’t. I just stood there in the dark, fists clenched, making sure nothing touched her until she fell asleep beneath the stars.

That’s all I’ve ever done. Protect from a distance.

Because if I got too close… tch. I’d ruin her.

I wanted her. God, I wanted her more than blood, more than anything I’ve ever sunk my fangs into. But my hands are made for breaking, not holding. Every time I touch something, I destroy it. If I touched her—really touched her—she’d shatter. And I couldn’t live with that.

Still, the thought of one of my brothers touching her first made my vision go red.

Ayato’s arrogant smirk pressed against her skin. Laito’s filthy whispers in her ear. Kanato’s claws digging in until she screamed. Even Reiji’s cold lectures cutting into her until she bled inside.

No.

No one would hurt her.

I slammed my other fist into the wall, cracks spidering out beneath the blow. My breath came harsh, ragged, my fangs aching with the force of it.

If anyone tried—anyone—I’d rip them apart. Brother or not.

My chest heaved, and I pressed my forehead against the cold stone, eyes shutting tight.

“Damn it, April…” I muttered under my breath, the words tasting like blood and guilt. “Why do you make me feel like this?”

I hated it. I hated how weak she made me. I hated how my hands shook at the thought of her smile.

But most of all, I hated that I couldn’t stay away.

Because no matter how hard I tried… I already knew.

She was mine.

Even if I could never tell her.