Royal Obsession Read online Dani Wyatt (Fated Royals #3)

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Fated Royals Series by Dani Wyatt

Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Royal Obsession (Fated Royals #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Dani Wyatt

Book Information:

The day I met her was the best and the worst day of my life.
Anika was the temptation I didn’t see coming. She had the wisdom of an owl, the spirit of a wolf and the majesty of an eagle. With copper hair, the freckles of youth and the curves of a woman, my dreams night and day were filled with what I wanted from her.
What I wanted to do with her. What I knew we could never have. The corpses piled up over the years as I carried out my silent, sworn duty to protect her at all costs. But when she flees from her royal fate, what was once off limits is now my sole purpose.
We will run. As long and hard as we must, until we find our own happily ever after. Even if it takes a lifetime.
Books in Series:

Fated Royals Series by Dani Wyatt

Books by Author:

Dani Wyatt

Chapter 1


“Give me the strength to stop wanting her.”

I kept my voice low as I knelt at the altar, but the deep baritone of my words seemed to echo off the centuries old cut stone walls. When I lowered my head and shut my eyes, I saw her. I always fucking saw her. The curve of her neck, the shape of her lips, the way her skirt outlined the V of her pussy when the wind blew just right. Anika. My goddamned stepsister.

“Give me the strength to overcome this fucking obsession.” The cut of my words were pleading. Begging and I waited.

No answer.

There was never an answer.

But any son who loses his mother as a child and says he doesn’t talk to her is full of shit. My mother had been dead for years, but I talked to her all the time. And I came here, kneeling at the shrine I’d built in her old chambers, to pray for one thing most of all: to free me from the burden of loving Anika.

My mother would’ve been the first to forbid us from seeing each other, I was sure of it. But the fucking irony was this: Anika was just the type of woman my mother would have loved. Headstrong, whip-smart, fiercely independent. And so damned kind to everybody, it made my goddamned heart hurt.

The other irony, of course, was the fact I was the heir to the throne and could have any woman I chose. But the only one I wanted was the one I couldn’t have.

It was fucking impossible. So, I turned to my mother for help. And I needed some serious help. Because without it, this obsession would destroy me. Or destroy our kingdom.

Or both.

No matter how hard I prayed, I got no relief. I loved Anika to distraction, to insanity. I thought of her constantly. When I was awake, I thought about protecting her. When I slept, I thought about fucking her. I woke up hard for her and went to sleep even harder. It never ended. And unless I found a way to make her mine, I knew it never would.

A noise from my right made me open my eyes and look over. If anybody heard me—the prince and heir to the throne—lusting over my goddamned stepsister, I would be royally and truly fucked. Rising to go check, I rubbed my temples and ran my hand down my stubble as I approached the door.

But it was nothing to worry about: in the chair out in the hallway sat Dora, my mother’s former lady in waiting. She was half-deaf, half-blind, and so ancient that taking naps had become a full-time job. She was slumped in her chair, hands clasped over her pudgy belly, snoring as she slept. As one of my very few remaining links to my mother, I looked after her like she was my own grandmother. She might as well have been.

Dora was napping comfortably, but judging from the uncapped flask on the table next to her, in need of a refill.

As usual.

Slipping my own flask from my pocket, I topped up hers and capped it. As I set it back down, she snorted herself awake, blinking her cloudy eyes in the dimly lit hallway.

She looked at the flask and smiled.

“Your mother is looking after her Dora still,” she said with a sigh, as she unscrewed the lid and took a sip. “Every day I come and catch a few winks after I finish my drink. Every day I wake to find a full flask. A miracle. Have I told you about it, my boy?”

A million goddamned times.

I hid my impatience, though. I could never tell if she really believed that my mother visited her or if she was just bullshitting me. Didn’t matter. As long as she was comfortable and happy, I felt like I was doing right by her, even if I had to do it in secret. I had a reputation as an unfeeling bastard and I aimed to keep it that way.

“Once or twice,” I finally said and her thin lips curved into a sly grin.

She took a seriously respectable swig, capped her flask, and then patted my hand.

“Saw your pretty little stepsister earlier, wearing a brand new dress. Cornflower blue. Looks like an angel made it, you ask me. I reckon it must have cost a city’s ransom for the material alone. Imported… You should have seen her.”

Fuck yes, I’d seen her. And Dora was right: the new blue dress was probably the most expensive garment in the land. I’d had it made for her myself from silk that cost more just to have transported across the sea than most people earned in a dozen years, and had it put in her chambers.

She had no clue it was me. I’d caught a glimpse of her that morning and my cock responded instantly. But I managed to make a grumble that sounded semi-believable, even to me.