a/n: The Royal Romance: Book 3, Ch.1. I've named my Prince "Scott".
Summary: AU|The Royal Romance: Book 3, Ch.1| "Two strong heartbeats a shield on either side of her"
The Royal Romance
(Book 3)
Shield of Heartbeats
Riley stood in the dark safe house bedroom, her ears buzzing, the tremble in her limbs showing itself at last as the adrenaline finally had the chance to ebb in the moment of calm. Drake was patched up and resting, safe. Everyone was safe, right?
She squeezed her eyes closed against the burn of tears as she remembered her last sight of Scott in the chaos at the Royal Palace—surrounded by assassins—and clamped her sticky hands over her mouth to stifle the sudden sob.
Her hands sticky with Drake's blood!
She collapsed heavily onto the bed, it shaking with her cries. Shadows crept into the edges of her vision as she tried to stifle her cries and not hyperventilate, to breath through her fear until she finally collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion; not even the blossoming pain in her shoulder could keep her awake.
R/R
beep! beep! beep!
bang! bang!
She flinched. The flash from the metal barrel pointed directly at her. There, just for her—only for it to be suddenly blocked out by Drake's back.
BANG!
"No!" Riley jolted upright in bed only to whimper in pain, reaching across her chest to hold it against the sharp pain in her shoulder. She gulped, glancing around, confused to find herself in a private hospital room with no recollection of how she had gotten there. "Wha-?" She wasn't the one that needed to be in a hospital. She startled, jumped, them grimaced in pain as the room door opened with no warning. "Drake!" she cried out in relief, trying to kick off the blankets.
Drake quickly closed the door and went to her bedside. "Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing, Sharpton?" His hand on her exposed knee halted her.
Riley gripped his hand tightly, gaze trained on his arm tucked away in a sling, before raising it to his eyes. "Are you okay? You shouldn't be up, you should be resting, Drake!" She scolded with worry.
"It's not me I'm- that everyone's worried about."
"Me?" She scoffed. "I wasn't the one that jumped in front of a bullet! And what about the others? Tell me Scott's okay, Drake." She pleaded quietly.
Drake squeezed her knee reassuringly. "Riley,"
"Oh, no. You only call me by my first name when you're worried. Did someone else get hurt? Savannah and Bartie okay?"
"They're fine, they're staying at the Beaumont's."
Riley sighed in relief and gave Drake a smile. "Good. Okay, let's go." She moved his hand from her leg but didn't let go of it and started to shuffle to the edge of the bed.
"Hey, where do you thing you're going?" He barred her way off the bed.
"Back to the Palace, Drake. I have to find Scott, I have to make sure he's okay. I should be at his side."
"And how do you plan to do that?" Drake challenged. "You gonna sprout wings and fly there? Gotta say, I don't think this gown's integrity will hold up on the flight—you'll be flashing the whole of Cordonia, but I'm sure on the Lords and even some of the Ladies would enjoy the show."
Riley chuckled, then grimaced. "Don't make me laugh, meanie."
"And here I thought women liked at man who could make them laugh."
"You must be hard up, then."
"Or, it just takes a special kind of woman to get my sense of humour."
"Drake..." Riley grinned. "Stop trying to distract me with your rugged charm."
"Riley," Drake cupped her cheek. "You're here for a reason, you-"
"I'm fine," she rested her hand on his wrist.
Drake gritted his teeth. "Sharpton-"
Someone knocked gently on the door making them both jolt and hiss and a moment later it opened to reveal-
"Scott!" Riley sagged against Drake in a moment of utter relief before she straightened and wiggled to her feet from his block and crossed the room to crash into Scott's chest.
"Riley," Scott sighed into her hair as she clung to him, her own anxiety leaking away as she was held in his strong arms. "It's a relief to finally see you awake, you gave us quite the scare."
"I was scared I wouldn't see you again." She pressed her face into his neck, breathing in his scent. "I was so worried, the last time I saw you..."
"Nothing but a few bruises that with fade with no trace." Scott stroked her hair, pressing his lips to her temple. "You're the one that worried us, Riley."
"Yeah, Scott, see if you can get her to see sense, she won't listen to me." Drake sighed.
"Riley, you need to rest." He agreed.
"I'm fine, it's just my shoulder. Drake is as heavy as he looks and he did bowl over on me."
"Really, Sharpton?"
"Got you to call me 'Sharpton', didn't it?" Riley sent him a smile, grimacing when it pulled at her shoulder. "Besides, Drake was the one shot, not me."
Drake cringed, rubbing the back of his neck and turning his face away.
"Riley," Scott said quietly, his tone quickly putting her on high alert.
"What's wrong?" She frowned up at him. "Drake said everyone was fine."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes-"
"No!" Drake shouted in frustration. "I never said you were fine, Riley!"
"What?"
"Drake," Scott frowned at him.
"What's he talking about?" She asked Scott.
"Let's get you into bed," Scott murmured and scooped her up into his arms.
She was too confused and surprised to protest. Scott laid her back in bed and pulled the covers up around her. "What's happening?" Riley looked between the both of them standing on either side of her. "I'm fi-"
"You were shot, Riley!" Drake shouted.
Riley gaped at him for a moment before shaking her head. "No, you were shot. I patched you up myself, Drake."
"Riley," Scott sat on the edge of the bed at her hip facing her. He took her hand and threaded their fingers as Drake paced on the other side. "Drake isn't pulling some sort of prank—you were shot at the Palace."
"But I wasn't," She protested. "Drake jumped in front of me, he got shot."
"The bullet went right through me," Drake seethed through gritted teeth. "Might as well have just stepped aside for all the good it did."
"There's some mistake," Riley shook her head. "I'm just sore because you fell back onto me, Drake, that all-"
"God damn it, Sharpton! Denial does not a Queen make!" Drake snapped. Riley let out a yelp as he reached with his free hand, grasped the neck of her gown and yanked it down.
"Drake!" Riley yanked it back up over her exposed breasts.
Scott rose and glared across at Drake. "That was severely inappropriate, Drake!" he said sharply.
"Riley, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Drake started.
Riley just shook her head, her gaze trained on the white, blood-spotted bandage tapped over her clavicle. Her voice shook, "I was really shot?"
Scott squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently pulled the gown back over her shoulder, covering the bandage back up. "Drake slowed the bullet. It lodged in your collarbone. The doctors were able to remove it without any complications but it fractured your clavicle and you will bear a scar." He stroked her knuckles as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Riley."
"I don't care about a scar. How could I not have felt it?" She asked in wonder.
"It was the adrenaline, it dulled the pain—I'm still not sure if that was a good thing or not given the situation."
"How could it have been a 'good thing'?" Drake demanded. "I was sleeping on the couch oblivious and she was passed out in the bedroom bleeding from a gunshot wound she didn't even notice because I failed to protect her properly."
"Drake, please sit before you hurt yourself." Riley frowned as her request was ignored.
"We didn't find you until Bastien deemed it all-clear for Scott and everyone to leave the other safe house and he came to check on you."
"I found you," Scott's hand tightened on hers, lowering himself back onto the bed. "When I opened the bedroom door sunlight was streaming in through the window onto the bed..." he gulped. "It looked like a slaughter, Riley. You wouldn't wake up; the doctor's said half a centimetre up and it would have grazed the bone and hit the artery. I could have lost you and never even known."
"Shhh, I'm right here." Riley stroked his cheek, thumbing away the escaped tear. "I'm right here, alive and kicking." She caressed the nape of his neck, resting their foreheads together. "I'm not going anywhere, Scott, I promise." They breathed each other's breath. "Can you stay? Do you have to go?"
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "I've made arrangement and I have no other place I'd rather be than by your side. I'm not going anywhere until you are."
Riley sighed, "I love you," against his lips.
Scott kissed her. "I love you."
"I'm exhausted, can you lay with me?" Riley rose her head.
"Of course."
Drake turned for the door. "I'll just give you two some privacy..."
"The both of you?" The whispered request stopped the man in his tracks.
Drake scoffed, attempting to play it off. "Don't be ridiculous, Sharpton—we won't all fit in the bed."
"We'll make it work," Scott said. "It'll be a tight fit, but-"
"They better to feel you both," Riley finished. "Your breath, your hearts, your heat. Please, Drake. We could have lost you, you both almost lost me, we could have lost Scott."
Drake swallowed against the lump in his throat. "If you're sure... I'd like that, too."
Scott and Riley shared a look. "We would." Scott said, locking gazes with him. Drake glanced back warily at the door. "There are guards stationed outside, we're safe here, no one will disturb us."
Drake exhaled. "Okay." he returned to the bed. "How are we going to do this thing?" Riley grinned.
After some manoeuvring, Riley ended up in the middle as was right; with their injuries on the same side, Drake spooned her from behind, his injured arms resting comfortably across her ribs; Scott faced her, her head tucked under his chin, the sound of his heartbeat in her ear, the feeling of Drake's at her back. Scott's arm stretched across them both, his hand on his best-friend's hip.
"The safest place on Earth," Riley murmured drowsily, a smile teasing her lips. "Not to mention every woman's fantasy."
Drake's breath caressed her neck, Scott nuzzled her hair. Two strong heartbeats a shield on either side of her. She fell asleep easily, knowing she was safe and when she woke, nor would she be alone.
f
The Royal Romance
Holy, do you know how long it's been since I put an 'f' at the end of something? Long! Hope you enjoyed.