Worthy of a Kingdom
A princess on the run. A prince with a secret. Royal mistake, or royally fated?
M/F
the realm, you have a duty to your people.”
“Wait, you’re a princess?”
Caliana sighed and turned to her coworker, Jade, who was gawking at her like she’d grown a second head. “Technically, yes.”
Jade squealed. “I’ve been best friends with a princess this whole time and you never told me?”
“It’s not something that often comes up in conversation.” Cal rubbed the bridge of her nose. She purposefully avoided the subject. She was a princess on the run.
She’d hoped to never hear the honorific in reference to herself again, but fate had other plans.
The current viceroy of Maera stood in front of her, his face pinched in distaste. She could only imagine how horrified he was to find her working, in a library, and wearing pants. One would have been bad enough, but she managed the trifecta of inappropriateness in a few months.
The king and queen—her parents—had done what most royals do and promised their only girl to an unseen heir of a neighboring territory to secure a lasting peace. They’d broken this news to her six months ago.
As a modern woman, albeit one sheltered and coddled her entire life, Cal wasn’t keen on an arranged marriage.
Her grandmother supported her bid for freedom and choice. When her parents allowed their fear of war to override their daughter’s wishes, she ran.
Apparently not far enough.
She sighed. “I’m not going back, Arnald. Maera needs to find another sacrificial lamb.”
“Bethen has vowed they will attack if we don’t present you to their heir within the month.”
“They’ve never seen me. I’m sure there’s another who would gladly take my place.” She struggled to keep the hint of petulant child from her voice.
“Dozens, actually. The prince is quite the catch, from what I understand. But that’s neither here nor there, since he has seen you and insists you are his mate.”
Shock rendered Cal speechless. Jade filled the silence. “Sounds animalistic and barbaric.”
She didn’t know how right she was on the first point, and how wrong on the second.
“When?”
The Viceroy looked at her in confusion.
“When did he see me?”
The old man shrugged. “We’ve known where you went for months. The king believed you’d return when you came to your senses, but Bethen grew restless after the third moon. He shared your location to mollify them. The prince’s curiosity got the better of him.”
Her mind’s eye flashed through the faces of recent patrons, but it needn’t have bothered. She knew immediately who it was. Brooding and ethereally handsome, he had never spoken or come near her, but she’d had the eerie feeling of being examined.
“Don’t tell me it’s the beautiful creep?”
Cal was grateful Jade hadn’t used their personal nickname for him—Sex in the Stacks. She couldn’t decide if her day had just gotten worse or better. She admitted he was panty melting handsome. The one time she’d caught him looking at her, his eyes had an intensity that still made her shudder. He looked at her the way a wolf looks at a rabbit.
She straightened her spine. No one had ever accused her of being a rabbit. “Since he obviously knows where I am, if he wants me to consider his suit, he can introduce himself and ask me out on a date. I’m not an object for barter.”
She twitched a nod at the older man and spun on her heel. By the time she reached the employee lounge, panic was setting in. His mate? How could he even know that when he’d never gotten close to her? She thought the males needed to have sex with the female before they knew, but she had limited knowledge.
The burden of identifying a mate always fell on the male, but she’d heard the female experienced the mating bond just as strongly, if not stronger, than they did.
The last report of actual fated mates was decades ago. Being bonded was what thrust her parents to the throne, and Maera to an elevated status among all the North American kingdoms. If she truly was this prince’s mate, it was no wonder Bethen wanted her so badly.
She didn’t know whether it was excitement or panic causing her stomach to flip.
Jade ran in moments after her, a huge grin splitting her face. “I can’t believe you never told me you were a princess!”
“It’s not as big a deal as you think.” Cal sighed and slumped into one of three hard plastic chairs. They, along with a table missing part of one leg that rocked despite the wad of napkins trying to keep it level, were the only furniture in the lounge. She’d chosen a small community whose library funding was paltry, but the patrons relied on them for more than just checking out books, and the feeling of being useful was priceless. “Maera isn’t a rich kingdom and you know I have four brothers.”
“Yes, but you’re still royalty! Oh my God, do you have a crown?”
She did, but doubted Jade would understand a simple ring of woven blackberry vines. “Not one like you’re thinking.”
“And the prince is Sex in the Stacks, right?”
“I assume so, but the kingdoms aren’t like in fairy tales.”
“You keep putting qualifiers on the kingdom and your title, but a princess is a princess, right?”
Jade was her best, and really only, friend, but she’d only known her six months.
“Right?” Jade insisted.
Cal slumped further and put her forehead on the table. “Right,” she answered weakly.
She didn’t think Jade was ready to learn her best friend was a werewolf.
From his hiding place behind a bookshelf, Mark watched Caliana talk to her friend. Wondered if she dared tell the young human the truth. Questioned what it would be like to have a trusted friend.
He wouldn’t share that level of intimacy with Cal. He couldn’t. If she learned the truth, she would shun him. The only thing worse than never finding your mate was being shunned by them.
And he was certain she was his mate.
His parents doubted. Hell, most of the pack doubted. But from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known.
Standing in the dusty shelves, letting his eyes feast on the firm jaw softened with kind, light brown eyes and wavy russet hair that tumbled down her back, his entire body lit up like he was holding a live wire.
He still got aftershocks, small zings that woke up his nerve endings—and his cock. He’d never been so hard in his life, and he was far from a virgin.
It became difficult to remain civilized and not grab her and drag her off to a cave somewhere. His wolf wanted her. And he wanted her now. He mollified the beast by assuring it she would be theirs soon. They both needed to be patient.
Watching from the shadows was not his typical style, but he admitted it was useful. That she was strong willed was evident in her defiance of her parents, but he learned she was also caring, loyal, and open.
He’d watched her coach toddlers from reluctant readers into voracious book lovers. She patiently helped elderly patrons find the book they’d read once and barely remembered. She turned a blind eye to the homeless man who cleaned up in the bathroom, then bought him a sandwich.
She was perfect queen material. She could teach him to be a good, fair king.
Even if neither of them wanted the throne.
He faded further into the shadows before making escaping unseen. He walked to a cafe a block away and waited for his father to call and update him on what the viceroy reported. He already knew what she’d said, and his father would guess he’d eavesdropped, but both of them would feign ignorance.
In his mind’s eye, he could see his mother rolling her eyes at both of them.
He smiled before the pressure of responsibility wiped it away. Their pack was dying, and his parents had put everything they had into arranging this match. It had to work.
The call took less than two minutes. One of his father’s best qualities was brevity. He got straight to the point.
What sort of date night would appeal to a werewolf librarian?
It was a small town with no museums or fancy restaurants, but something told him fancy wasn’t the way to go. She’d see a show of money as trying to buy her, and that was the last thing he wanted.
He needed to keep the night simple, but impressive. A romantic comedy film was playing at the theater. There was a popular bar on the bank of the town’s neighboring river that had beautiful sunset views from every table. An independent bookstore just opened on main street.
Too cheesy, too expected, too obvious.
He meandered the small downtown area until the streetlights blinked to life. Frustrated that he hadn’t been able to come up with anything, he turned toward the small apartment he’d rented a few blocks from Cal’s library.
That’s when he realized he was staring straight at the answer.
Not wanting to wait another minute, he reversed course and went back to the library. Cal was helping another patron, so he stuffed his hands in his pocket and silently rehearsed asking her out.
I’d like to take you on a date. No. Can I take you out sometime? Awful. Are you free on Friday? Sheesh.
The patron left and he approached, less confident than he was a few minutes before.
“I’d like to take you out on Friday.”
Her eyes grew wide. “O-okay. I’m assuming you’re the prince, but maybe start with telling me your name?”
He dropped his head and shook it, adding “stupid” under his breath before looking up and trying again. He gave her a lopsided grin he hoped was charming and stuck his hand out. “My name is Mark Logon and along with being the Prince of Bethen, apparently I’m a blundering idiot.”
She laughed, and he relaxed.
“Hello Mark, I’m Caliana Shannon, Princess of Maera. What did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could start with ice cream at Scoops and then walk to a surprise destination.”
She cocked her head. “I have a weakness for Scoops ice cream and mysteries. All right. I’ll meet you out front on Friday. What time?”
“How about seven?”
“Seven is perfect.”
He grinned and bounced on his toes. When he got outside, he face palmed. That went as well as the first time he asked a girl on a date—when he was sixteen. He wished he’d said Saturday. Two days might not be long enough to get over the jitters.
The time flew by for Cal, dotted with moments where she daydreamed about the date with Mark. He wasn’t what she expected. She thought a prince would be more self-assured, cocky… pushy even. She never thought he would be nervous asking her out, or admit to blundering the attempt.
Butterflies turned into a hurricane of nerves, excitement, and lust. She wasn’t examining any of those emotions closely. She’d made a life for herself outside the pack, and she wouldn’t give her independence up on a whim.
But when she’d shook his hand, it wasn’t just that sparks flew, but an entire inferno raced directly to her clit.
Maybe fated mates weren’t a bullshit story told to pups to give them hope. Sure, her parents always told her it was very real, and their biggest wish was for her to experience the thrill of a genuine bond, and she believed it when she was little.
Then she grew up. She gave up on the dream of being whisked away by the white knight—the specific one the fates had chosen just for her.
She convinced herself she no longer believed in fairy tales.
But when she shook his hand, all the possibilities flooded back.
She stood in front of the locked library doors, more nervous than she wanted to admit. She was early; it was barely six forty-five, and she’d been at the library an hour already. The autopilot work of putting returned books back into the stacks soothed her a bit, but after she’d mis-shelved the tenth book, she gave up.
He arrived five minutes later. Dressed in dark blue jeans and a form hugging black shirt, he was casual but impeccable. He cropped his dark blond hair short, his jaw freshly shaven. The lithe muscles of his arms were on full display.
She swallowed and licked her lips.
He grinned and pulled a small bouquet from behind his back, presenting them to her with a flourish. “Caliana, you look amazing.”
“Thank you. You, too.” They stared at each other like moonstruck kids until they both broke in nervous laughter.
He sobered first. “I can’t believe how nervous I am.”
She smiled up at him, “I’ve never been this nervous on a date.”
The tension eased a bit, and he took her hand and led her to Scoops at the other end of the block.
As soon as they walked in, the young lady behind the counter called out, “You want the usual, Cal?”
Mark quirked an eyebrow. “Come here often, do you?”
She shrugged. “I have a weakness for their rainbow sherbet.”
The cashier asked Mark what he’d like as she made Cal’s waffle cone.
“Caramel for me, and make mine a dipped waffle cone, please.”
Ice cream paid for and cones in hand, he let her choose a small table in front of the shop. It was nice outside, and she hoped the light traffic would keep their conversation private.
The back and forth was never awkward, topics from hobbies to childhood memories flowing effortlessly from one to another. The streetlights blinking on were the only indicators of passing time.
When it was full dark and the last napkin from their ice cream long since thrown away, Mark stood and offered her his hand.
She took it and sucked in a breath as heat pooled in her belly. “Is it always like this for you?”
His eyes had turned a strange mixture of their natural blue and the wolf’s gold. “It has never been like this.”
A heady rush of feminine power curled her lips. No one had ever looked at her the way he was. “You look at me like prey for your wolf.”
He leaned low and whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “He wants you, but not for food.” He straightened and took a deep breath, shook his head, and gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so forward. It’s just getting harder to control.”
The tension between them took her breath away, so she simply nodded.
He waved an arm down the street. “Time for my surprise, I think.”
They talked as they made their way through downtown, and it wasn’t long before he stopped in front of a large wrought-iron gate. A sign on the stacked stone pillar read “Houghton House.”
It was a beautiful example of decadence in architecture. The story was that a widower had built it in memory of his late wife. Nothing could be too ornate, or too overdone. Mr. Houghton had spent millions when thousands was a fortune but was never satisfied the building did her justice.
Despite being covered in gingerbread and flourish, the grand house never crossed into garish, but remained elegant.
No one she’d ever spoken with had been inside. The gates were locked, no trespassing signs posted on the surrounding fence. Local legend had it some kids had tried to sneak in once. They’d never been seen again. She couldn’t verify that story, but it added to the house’s mystique.
Her curiosity about the place was like a living entity and she’d spent all her free time learning all she could about it.
When Mark pressed the button on the intercom system, she gasped and tried to pull him away.
“We’ve got to leave before they call the cops.”
A crackle of static erupted from the speaker. “What do you want?”
“Gregory, it’s Mark Logan.”
The speaker harrumphed and cut off.
With a screech that could wake mummies, the gates opened.
Mark studied her face as she went from putting her entire weight behind the attempt to drag him away, to stunned, open-mouthed staring as the gates parted before them.
Cal’s eyes darted like hummingbirds on the walk to the front door. He delighted in seeing the house anew through her eyes. There wasn’t much to see. The front yard was barren compared to the back. A simple expanse of neatly trimmed green lawn, large pots overflowing with flowers bracketing the stairs.
The door opened as they approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Logan, Miss Shannon.”
“Hello, Stuart.”
Tall, thin, and bald, Stuart was a stereotypical butler and what you’d expect for a vampire.
He stepped back with a flourish. “Please come in. Gregory is in the study.”
“Thank you.”
Cal grabbed his hand and pressed against his side as they entered the octagonal foyer. Wolves were naturally wary of vampires and vice versa, but tensions between the species had dissipated.
Mark led them to the center door, which opened into a room that would fit his entire rented apartment. Next to him, Cal stood frozen just past the threshold.
Floor to ceiling shelves packed with books covered the walls. An enormous fireplace on one wall and windows at the back were the only things sharing their space. Three groupings of armchairs dotted the floor, and a slab of live edge wood served as a desk in front of the windows.
Gregory rose from a chair near the far wall. “Well, let’s look at her then.”
Ignoring the gravel in his voice, Mark grinned. “Allow me to introduce Miss Caliana Shannon.”
She hissed a frantic whisper in his ear. “Should I curtsy? I feel like I should curtsy when being introduced to the oldest living werewolf.”
Gregory laughed, his hearing still acute despite his age. “No little one, no need to curtsy.” He waved his hand at the other chairs and retook his seat.
He moved a little slower than the last time Mark had visited, but that and a small bit of gray at his temple were the only clues to his age.
Cal shook her head. “In all my research, I never worked out that Gregory Houghton was the legendary Ian Dannan.”
He smiled. “I have become quite good at changing identities. I’ve had many names over the years. I always like the current one best.”
Her head swiveled between Mark and Gregory. Mark grinned.
Gregory snorted. “Put her out of her misery, boy, and tell her how you know me.”
“Gregory is my Godfather.” He stopped and tilted his head. “Mentor? Savior?”
“Oh, I like that one.” Gregory slapped his knee. “I don’t think I’ve been someone’s savior before.”
Mark saw the confusion on Cal’s face. “It’s a tale for another time. I know you have questions…” He jerked his chin toward Gregory in invitation. It was all the invitation she needed.
“Are any topics off limits?” Her mind worked furiously, categorizing and organizing her questions.
“No, but I am old and no longer have the energy to stay up all night, so ask those you feel are most important first.”
She nodded. “Have you had a fated mate?”
He seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. “No, I have never had that pleasure.”
“So you built this house for a wife, not a mate?”
He grinned. “Does it seem too extravagant for a mere wife?”
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s alright. To be honest, it’s more my style than it ever was hers.”
She nodded and changed tacks, asking about werewolf history, packs related to her parent’s but long since dissolved, and how the current system of government came to be.
Gregory proved to be a patient teacher and answered each question with depth and thought.
When he yawned, she knew her time was at an end. “One final question, please.”
He sat forward and rubbed his eyes. “Final question.”
“Why aren’t there more fated mate pairs among wolves today?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, looking into the dark night beyond the windows. “It was commonplace long ago. So much so, most wolves only paired with their fated mate. The decline was so gradual, no one noticed much until a century had gone by. Suddenly, it seemed, a fated mate became rare. The scientists among us got involved early on, but they never found an explanation. Not a straightforward thing to do—to quantify fate. Which leaves working out a reason almost impossible.”
He stood from his chair and took her hands. “All I can say is that finding one, whether they are plentiful or scarce, is a gift.”
She smiled and took Mark’s hand as Gregory shuffled out the door. Neither of them spoke until they were outside the gates.
“I can’t believe I just met the oldest living werewolf.” Cal shook her head, all her newfound knowledge swirling. “I need to write everything I can remember before I forget.”
“No need.” Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her he’d been recording the past three hours. “I asked for permission before we arrived.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Wow. You really are the best.”
He laughed. “I’m not, but I try.”
She grinned up at him, her limbs languid and heavy after the earlier excitement. “How do you know him?”
“That’s a story for the second date.”
She startled when he waved his free hand and she realized they were at her apartment building. She asked her question to the front door, not daring to look at him. “Would you like to come up?”
His fingers tensed on hers, then released. They both knew what she was offering.
“I’d better not.”
She faced him and stared into his eyes, seeing the wolf staring at her again. “Why not? Fated mates or not, isn’t it better to know for sure?”
He ran his hand over his hair, a rueful smile playing at his lips. “I already know.”
“But I don’t. I’ve heard sex erases all doubt, and this is hanging over me like…” She scrunched her nose. “Well, not like a dark cloud, but like a mystery I can’t solve. A book I can’t find. An itch I can’t scratch. It will drive me crazy, the not knowing.”
His eyes, now fully gold, captured her own. “Are you sure?”
She sucked in a breath, the weight of the moment hitting her. “Yes.”
The word had no sooner left her mouth than his slashed down over hers. His kiss set her on fire, and the world dropped away as his touch took her senses. She didn’t know how they navigated the stairs or her front door, but soon enough, she heard it click behind him.
They tore at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail to the bed. The skin to skin contact tightened her chest, and his rough hand stroking down her back made her clit spasm with need. She moaned and the back of her knees hit the edge of her bed.
She flopped back, spreading her thighs as he stepped between them. She watched him crawl up her body, dipping his head and licking at her navel before capturing her lips again.
The world slowed when he took first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. He abandoned them to slide lower, hiking her knees on his shoulders, burying his head in her cunt. Her back bowed and her fists clenched in the sheets when he licked her. She screamed, and he growled against her, nipping at her clit.
The orgasm hit her in waves of tremors, tensing every muscle before leaving her boneless.
Panting, she asked, “Is that the mating? That mind-blowing orgasm?”
He lay beside her and nuzzled her neck. “That was just the beginning.
Mark slid his fingers down her belly, threading through the dark curls and circling the engorged nub he knew he’d never tire of teasing.
Her breath hitched and her hips lifted, seeking more pressure, but he kept her on edge.
“Please, Mark. I want you inside me.”
He paused. “Are you sure? I can make you cum all night and leave almost as happy.”
She shook her head and gasped as his fingernail scraped her clit. Cal reached up and grabbed his face with both hands. “No. I want you. I want to know.”
“I’m not sure exactly what’s going to happen.”
She smiled. “According to my parents, it’s a wild ride.”
He chuckled low in his throat. “Then you’d better hang on, Princess.”
He positioned himself above her, and she grabbed his shoulders, taking his advice literally. He eased forward, the tip of his cock sliding into her cunt. He was so hard and she was so wet that he sank easily. They both moaned, and he fought the urge to ram home.
Inch by inch, he entered her, letting her body stretch to accommodate him. Her sighs and moans tested his restraint, but he held the slow pace until he was seated. Stroking in and out of her, slowly at first, then faster as he lost control.
Both of them got wilder and more frantic as they teetered on the edge. He flipped her over and rammed into her from behind, reaching beneath her soft belly to rub and squeeze her clit. She exploded with a strangled scream.
He felt his fangs extend as stars crowded the edges of his vision. His orgasm took over, his nerve endings firing all at once as he came. He sank his teeth into her shoulder and hung on as his hips continued to pump into her. Spent, they lay on their sides, his arms wrapped around her.
He licked the puncture marks on her shoulder. A minute ticked by, then two. She turned in his arms to look up at him. Her mouth opened with the hint of a smile, but before she could say the words on the tip of her tongue, she screamed.
Fire raced across Cal’s right bicep. She scrambled up, grabbing at it, but Mark held her hands. He was saying something, but all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears. The searing pain seemed to last forever. She stared in horror at her arm, the skin red and blistering.
Pressing herself into hot coals would have been more pleasant. Tears streamed down her face, but words wouldn’t come. She watched in fear as her skin raised to form a pattern. The redness drained away and what it left was a scar. Swirls looped around an upright arrow. It was small, maybe two inches high by one inch wide.
She ran a shaking finger over it, wincing at remembered pain.
When she looked back to Mark, he had turned to show her a larger version on his own arm.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“When did you get yours?”
“The first time I saw you.” His hands released her wrists.
“You could have warned me. That shit hurt.”
He frowned. “I guess I wasn’t sure. What if I was wrong? What if nothing happened?” He shook his head. “You would have spent the whole time anticipating the pain, instead of enjoying yourself.”
She pouted. “I suppose.” She stared at her arm in wonder. It no longer hurt, but she touched it gently all the same. The enormity of what just happened hit her like a truck. “Fated mates,” she whispered.
He touched his forehead to hers and whispered back. “Fated mates.”
They stayed like that for several seconds before she threw herself back with a groan. “My parents are going to be insufferable. They were already bad with the ‘duty to your kingdom’ crap, but now? I’ll never get them to leave me alone.”
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound close to her ear. “We could run away.”
She pretended to think for a moment. “Nah, I’d miss them. They’re overbearing, but they love me.” She rolled onto her side and smoothed a finger down the side of his face. “What about your parents? What are they like?”
He grinned. “They’re the best. We’ve butt heads a time or two, but I can never stay mad at them. Not after all they’ve done since...”
He clamped his jaw shut and darted his eyes away.
“Since what?”
She could almost hear his teeth clench. A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw. He scrubbed his now sad eyes as he looked at her.
“You may hate me for what I’m about to reveal, but,” he tilted his chin at the mark on her arm, “it’s kind of too late for secrets.”
Mark watched confusion and panic chase each other across her features. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his head in his hands. If he was going to get this out, he couldn’t look at her.
“Most of this I’ve pieced together over the years. I was too young to remember much.” He glanced at her and found her expression open and patient.
She was perfect. He didn’t deserve her.
“I was the runt of the litter. Bullied by the bigger pups and unwanted by my parents. I was a day old when they abandoned me.”
Caliana gasped. “How could they? We treasure the smallest pups in my pack. They grow to be fierce fighters, or empathic healers.”
His lips twisted. “Weakness isn’t something werewolves in their pack accepted.”
She scooted behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The show of support made him blink back tears.
“It was Gregory that heard my cries and scooped me up. They had left me at the very edge of his territory, and by dumb luck, he was patrolling his borders that night.
“He thought he’d raise me himself, having no kids of his own, but it didn’t take long for him to admit he was out of his depth.” His muscles relaxed, and he smiled. “He’d heard the newly minted king and queen of a nearby pack were struggling to have a litter. He summoned them and despite not knowing why, they came immediately.”
“Your mom and dad.”
He nodded and dared a look at her. She was grinning. Maybe she wouldn’t hate him for the lie. Maybe she wouldn’t reject him.
“Mom had been trying to have children for years, but they all ended in miscarriage. It killed dad to see her so heartbroken, so they stopped trying. They’d received Gregory’s note the day after making that decision. They thought he somehow knew and would take them to task. Nervous and upset, they entered his home, ready for battle.
“He met them in the same library we were in earlier tonight, with a screaming ball of fur in his hands. The way my parents tell it, he shoved me at them and said, ‘take this thing before he drives me mad.’ They were too stunned to ask questions, so they took me and left.
“Mom had sequestered herself from the pack after her last miscarriage, so when she re-emerged with me in tow, no one questioned where I came from. They assumed she’d finally gotten a pregnancy to stick. Months later, they went back to Gregory and got the story of how he’d found me. They were terrified my biological parents would come for me, or out their secret, but he assured them it would never happen.
“They never questioned him, but I did. The week after he’d given me to them, he tracked my original pack. He wouldn’t give me details, but he said they were cruel beyond reason—to others and to their own.
“The young who remained innocent were placed in other packs, but all the adults…”
“He killed them.”
Mark couldn’t tell if it was shock or support in her voice. He nodded. “Every last one.”
“Good. They deserved to die. That kind of behavior should be culled or it spreads.”
He winced. “I carry their genes.”
The anger in her voice surprised him. “You are nothing like them! Nothing!”
She jumped up and paced, her long hair whipping behind her naked back as she stomped back and forth. She was so tiny, and so furious. He smothered a smile. He didn’t want that fury directed at him.
“They were corrupt, and mean. You’re sweet and genuine.”
“How do you know? You only met me a few days ago.”
She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “I can… I can feel you.”
He tilted his head. “Well, that’s new.”
It certainly was. If anyone asked, she wouldn’t be able to explain it. She just knew what was in his heart. She could feel the hesitance, the idea she might walk away from him. She knew he was already in love with her. She sensed the depth of feeling he had for his parents, the respect he held for Gregory, the way he viewed him as a grandfather.
She just knew.
She was going to kill her parents. As often as she’d asked about fated mates, they never gave her a clue. Not one hint that the love they so wanted for her came with a painful brand. No inkling that she’d be able to feel her mate’s soul and know they were right for each other.
She could feel Mark’s anxiety pushing at her in waves. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, a gentle reassurance. She felt his trembling sigh as he relaxed into her arms.
She pulled back before things got too heated. “Why keep it a secret? Other couples often take orphaned pups in.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t an orphan. My parents were terrified the original pack would find out who I really was, and blackmail them or worse—steal me back.”
“But with the pack dead, there’s no reason to hide.”
“Now, it’s a matter of succession.” He smiled. “They don’t want to undermine my position in the pack, or call into question my ability to lead. Since the packs moved from the brutal-to-the-death challenge structure of leadership to the nomination and election model, the secret itself becomes an issue.”
She nodded. “So we keep it a secret.”
Hope welled in her, and she realized it wasn’t hers, but his.
“So you’ll stay with me?”
She punched him in the shoulder. “I have little choice, do I? I’m branded and I can feel you, which will take some getting used to. We were meant for each other.” She winked. “Fated, even.”
He chuckled, then groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well,” he rubbed his eyes, “that was the simple part.”
She scrunched her eyebrows and shook her head.
“Now I have to meet your parents.”
He kissed her laugh away. Her arousal was doubly intense. She could feel his depth of need for her, as well as her own for him. She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his swollen cock, moaning at finding it rock hard for her.
“You may not be of royal blood,” she whispered in his ear, “but this rod is certainly worthy of a kingdom.”
Kenzie writes kissy books set in other realms populated with supernaturals, aliens, and kickass heroines—some of whom are partial to wearing tight pants.