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Secret Princess: The Beast's Captive Mate Novel Cover

Secret Princess: The Beast's Captive Mate

To survive a world where women are treated as livestock, Elinore has spent decades posing as the ruthless Prince of Navia. When her tyrannical uncle gambles her sister away, Elinore resorts to violence to protect her. However, as Josefina begs for escape, Elinore's own body begins to betray her. A strange, primal heat awakens within, accompanied by visions of a beastly mate. To save her family, the fake prince must now ignite a revolution.
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Chapter 4

Pandora's words hit the stone walls like a physical blow. Alistair stared at his wife, his mind racing to catch up with her madness.

He looked at the tiny baby on the bed. Then he remembered the greedy, filthy laughter in Orestus's hall. Logic and tradition burned away in the face of survival. He gave a sharp, hard nod.

"We need a name," Alistair said, his voice dropping an octave as he fully committed to the treason. "Something neutral. Something that won't draw questions in Navia."

Pandora leaned down and pressed her lips to the baby's forehead. Her eyes were soft, but her jaw was set in stone. "Elinore. Starting today, he is Prince Elinore."

In the corner of the room, Agnes let out a terrified whimper. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed to the floor.

"You're insane! Both of you are insane!" Agnes yanked at her own hair, her eyes wide with panic. "Lying to the King is high treason! When he finds out, he'll tie us to the stakes and burn us alive!"

Agnes scrambled to her feet. She lunged blindly for the heavy oak door, desperate to escape the room and the death sentence it held.

Alistair's eyes went dead. He moved like a striking viper. He grabbed the back of Agnes's collar, yanking her backward, and slammed her hard against the wood.

He drew his dagger. The dried blood on the hilt scraped against his palm. He pressed the freezing steel edge directly against Agnes's pulsing carotid artery.

"You aren't going anywhere, Agnes," Alistair whispered. His voice was colder than the winter wind. "If you take one step out of this room, I will open your throat right now."

Agnes felt the sharp sting of the blade against her skin. Her body went completely limp against the door. Tears and snot streamed down her face as she shook her head, silently begging for her life.

Pandora picked up baby Elinore. She walked slowly toward the door. She didn't yell. She didn't threaten.

Instead, the Queen of Navia dropped to her knees on the filthy stone floor right in front of the healer.

Alistair's eyes widened. He reached out to pull his wife up, but Pandora shot him a look so fierce it stopped him in his tracks.

Tears spilled over Pandora's cheeks. She reached out and grabbed Agnes's trembling hand, squeezing it tight. "Agnes, you have a daughter. You know exactly what happens when they take them away. Please. Save my child."

Agnes stared down at the Queen kneeling in the blood and water. She looked at the dagger still hovering near her neck. Her psychological defenses shattered. She broke down into ugly, racking sobs and nodded her head frantically.

Alistair sheathed his dagger. He moved quickly to a hidden compartment behind a loose stone in the wall. He pulled out a rolled piece of ancient parchment and a short, silver needle.

He unrolled the parchment on the wooden table. His voice took on a dark, ritualistic cadence as he recited the oldest, most unforgiving Blood Oath in Navian history.

Agnes held out her index finger, her hand shaking violently. Alistair didn't hesitate. He drove the silver needle deep into her fingertip. A bright bead of blood welled up and dropped onto the parchment.

Alistair and Pandora quickly pricked their own fingers. Three drops of blood pooled together on the ancient paper. The parchment absorbed the blood instantly, the red stain twisting and forming a dark, jagged rune.

"The oath is sealed. Betrayal means the King's torturers will peel the skin from your bones while you watch your own daughter suffer the exact same fate," Alistair said. He rolled the parchment up and tossed it directly into the roaring fireplace. The flames devoured it, turning the evidence to ash.

The oppressive tension in the room shifted. The pact was made. Agnes wiped her wet face with the back of her sleeve. She accepted her fate and stepped back into her role.

She walked over to her medical supplies. She pulled out a roll of tough, unyielding linen bandages usually used for setting broken bones.

She walked back to the bed. She looked down at the sleeping Elinore. Her hands hovered over the baby, trembling. She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Pandora took a deep, ragged breath. She snatched the linen roll from Agnes's hands. A flash of profound agony crossed her eyes, but her hands were steady.

She grabbed a thick, oversized infant's undergarment meant for a boy. Her hands shook as she folded extra layers of soft linen across the chest, creating a padded bulk that would obscure any delicate features as the child grew. She tied the strings tightly, sealing the disguise.

It was only a symbolic binding for now, but the slight restriction made Elinore squirm in her sleep. The baby let out a tiny, uncomfortable grunt.

Pandora's heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. She swallowed her tears. She grabbed a loose, oversized male infant's gown and wrapped Elinore up, hiding the bandages completely.

Alistair stepped forward. He held a heavy gold chain. Dangling from it was a massive, flawless blue sapphire-the traditional amulet worn exclusively by male heirs of the Navian royal bloodline.

He placed the heavy chain around Elinore's tiny neck.

He stared down at the bundled child. "From this moment on, there is no little princess in this world," Alistair said, his voice heavy with finality. "There is only Prince Elinore of Navia."

The three adults stood in silence. They had just buried a deadly secret deep in the foundation of the kingdom, locking the first, cruel shackle onto Elinore's life.

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