The Mating Destiny: Werewolves of Montana Book 7 (21 page)

Emma tried to control her rapid pulse as servants escorted her through the main hall, a cavernous room with soaring ceilings and a fireplace big enough to roast an ox. If one ever did roast oxen.

Her own castle was large, but conventional, without all these weapons. She flicked a glance at the scowling guards, armed with machine guns, standing at rigid attention on either side of the hall.

Clan Ciamoth had no such guards. Even the sentries at the entrance held no weapons. They were merely for show, not a display of might.

Not this clan.

She wondered what life had been like for Alex, growing up here in the warrior clan of dragons. Always drilling and doing military maneuvers. Duty and honor.

Never fun. Nor love.

The maidservant, in a black dress with a white apron and a little white cap, escorted her up a winding staircase to the second floor. At the end of the hallway she opened a door to an enormous room decorated in crimson.

Emma could not help her gasp.

Never had she seen such opulence.

Crimson silk wallpaper covered the walls. The furniture she recognized as antique, perhaps a suite of Turkish furniture from the 18th century. There was a fireplace with the furniture tastefully arranged before it, with an Italian marble mantel. Sitting on it was a Louis XVI clock.

The four-poster mahogany bed with the flounced canopy looked like something out of a dream, with soft white sheets. Servants scurried to set up a small trundle bed near it.

Looking sleepy, Alice sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace, her legs tucked beneath her, her head pillowed on her arms. Emma forgot her awe and hurried over to her.

When the trundle bed was ready, she picked up the little girl and placed her upon it, removing her shoes and stripping her down to her shift. As Emma tucked her in, Alice opened her eyes.

“Are you going to stay here with me, Emma, and keep the bad men away?”

Throat tight, she nodded. “I’ll be here with you, sweetie. Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you and Alex won’t, either.”

Crouching down, she stroked Alice’s black hair. “I’m so sorry about your daddy. I don’t have a daddy, either.”

Alice blinked sleepily. “Did your daddy want to sell you to the mean men, too?”

Emma frowned. “No, I never really knew my daddy. What do you mean, Alice?”

But the little girl had fallen asleep.

Emma picked up the nightgown the maidservant had laid upon the bed for her. It was made of the prettiest blue silk, and felt delightful against her fingers. She placed it back upon the bed and sat in the settee near the fireplace, staring at the flames.

She wondered if the servants had lit the fireplace by breathing flames onto the logs, a talent she did not possess. Alex certainly would not care.

But would his parents?

“Preposterous.”

Alex stared at his sire, the monarch, the king who was the absolute, supreme authority over Clan Drakon. He had just told his father his plans to marry Emma, and not Sabrina.

“You cannot marry and mate with Emma. That is my final word.”

“But sir, Emma is my soul mate. Do you realize that this means?”

“It makes no difference.” King George leaned forward in the chair in his private library. Tongues of red flames licked at the fireplace logs greedily. Chest tight, Alex regarded the king. He had known how his father would respond, but held out hope. A dragon’s soulmate was sacred.

Except, it seemed, if she was a commoner, and a half-blood to boot.

“Your duty comes before personal feelings, Alexander. I appreciate your chivalry in rescuing her, and the other girls kept captive, but it ends there.”

The king drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Did you sleep with her?”

Alex stiffened. “That sir, is none of your business.”

“You did, for the only true way to tell if she is your soulmate is through sex.” The king’s mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “I knew this to be true with your mother, that she was not my soulmate. How I wished otherwise.”

Parental sex was not what he wished to discuss. “Emma is a good Other, with a kind heart and she is intelligent and strong. She will make me a good partner and mate and she will treat all dragons, full-blooded or half-blooded, as equals.”

“Perhaps. But as mate to a non-royal, not my eldest son and my heir.”

There was an ominous note his father’s voice previously lacked. Alex fisted his hands in his lap. “What does that mean?”

“Mate with her, marry her, but do so without your title. If you proceed with this insane plan of yours, you will no longer be my son.”

“Father, are you serious? I am of your blood. Your eldest son!”

“Then don’t do it,” the king hissed. He sat back, looking weary. “Marry Sabrina as planned. Rule over Clan Ciamoth and make Emma your mistress. You may sleep with her on the side. Hell, boy, you can even outfit her in an apartment close to the palace.”

Alex felt as if he wanted to retch. “You would have me dishonor my vows to Sabrina?”

George waved a hand. “Kings in our family have always had mistresses. It is an accepted practice, as long as one exercises discretion.”

Now nausea did churn in his stomach. “Did you have one, Father?”

The king looked away. “One hundred and fifty-one years is a long time to be mated and faithful.”

Not for him. Not if he mated with Emma. With Em, he could be with her 1500 years and never grow tired of her, nor dishonor their union by taking another woman into his bed.

“TMI,” he muttered. “And you accuse me of neglecting my duties.”

“This is not about me, Alex. The fate of the two kingdoms rests with you.” George stood and Alex knew this meeting was over. “Choose wisely, for you seal the fate of thousands, not merely yourself. But if you proceed with this absurd plan to marry Emma, I shall disinherit you. You will lose everything. Your title, your belongings, your gold.”

The king took a deep breath. “And your entire clan. You have until noon tomorrow to give me your decision.”

His father left the library, softly closing the double doors behind him.

His kingdom or his love. One of them he’d be forced to lose. And he couldn’t decide which was more important. If he chose love, then he abandoned his people and the fight for change, and the opportunity to create equality for all dragons like Emma.

If he chose his kingdom, he’d lose Emma. The thought of her mating with another, another male seeing that joyous smile, the sleepy passion in her eyes after sex, and her belly growing round with another male’s child…it drove him mad.

For a long while Alex sat, staring into the flames. Watching his future go up in smoke, wondering how he could break the news to Emma.

Chapter 10

Alex had not come to her last night.

She’d waited for two hours, and then, unable to remain awake, dressed in the nightgown, climbed between the sheets and fell asleep.

Much later, she heard a noise in the room and opened one eye, eager to see Alex. Silhouetted by the light of the dying embers in the fireplace, he tiptoed over to the trundle bed, and pressed a kiss on Alice’s forehead.

He did not approach her bed, nor even inquire about how she fared.

Emma fell back asleep, tasting tears in her throat. The audience with the king must have been worse than she imagined. Or perhaps he didn’t wish to awaken her.

But deep inside, she knew it was bad.

Grayish light peered through the crack in the brocade drapes when Emma awoke the next morning. She glanced over and saw the trundle bed empty, and neatly made.

Emma pressed a hand to her temple.
Alex? Alex, why didn’t you wake me up last night? Where are you? Is everything okay?

No answer.

Flinging back the covers, she went to the trundle bed and read the note placed there.

Servants had brought Alice downstairs to the dining hall to eat with the royal family.

No mention of her joining them.

Maybe breakfast wasn’t part of the package deal here in Clan Drakon. Perhaps dragons were expected to hunt in the forest and spew flames at prey and cook their own. A sort of BYOB—Bring Your Own Breakfast.

Clothing was laid out for her on the neatly-made bed when she emerged from the shower and the drapes were open wide to allow in the morning sunshine. Emma tried on the dainty lace panties, bra and they fit perfectly. The blue and white floral gown with its sweeping skirts felt silky against her skin, and there were matching blue velvet slippers.

Someone must have taken her measurements from her old clothing. That cheered her, until a servant knocked on the door and told her that her breakfast had arrived.

As the black uniformed maid set the gold tray upon the little inlaid table near the fireplace, Emma tried to leash her rising temper.

“Can I go downstairs to eat?”

The maid flushed as she arranged the gold cutlery and linen napkin on the table. “Prince Alexander thought it best for you to dine in your room. In private.”

She nodded and then left. Emma sat at the red chair before the table and stared at the tray.

A cup of tea. Fresh strawberries, melon pieces and grapes. And, dear goddess—sprouts.

Emma picked up the gold fork and poked at the greens. The utensil fell to the gold tray with a clatter.

Sprouts? While I’m here alone in this room. So that’s how it is? No omelet with onions and peppers? Or even a lousy pancake? Now that I’m seen as Fae, I get godsdamn SPROUTS?!
she yelled in her mind at Alex.

No answer.

All appetite fled. Fine, then.

She went to the door connecting her room to Alex’s. The black and gold room with its massive four poster bed, was empty. Emma wandered inside and pursued the stacks of books neatly arranged on built-in bookshelves. She selected a leather bound volume and returned to her room.

Curling up by the fireplace, she began to read. Interesting. Long ago, Clan Drakon and the Fae arrived at a compromise, after the death of Drust, their king and ruler. Drust had made peace with the Fae after the Drakon Wars, by bringing a few Fae into his clan as advisors.

The Fae had power to conjure energy balls by tapping into the natural resources of the earth.

Emma set the book down and opened her hands, wondering. She was half-Fae, a side of herself her mother had discouraged her to ever explore. But with her dragon side seemingly gone, perhaps she could explore her other half.

She went to the window and opened it. Closing her eyes, she imagined drawing energy from the sunlight, filling her cells with sunlight and energy and then condensing them into a ball of pure power.

Opening her eyes, she stared at her palm. A tiny ball, no larger than a marble, danced there. Glowing white and amber, it did not singe her skin, but warmed it.

Very interesting. Emma looked down at the gardens. She spied a marble statue of a Cupid near the entrance.

Flinging back her palm, she sent the tiny globe of power sailing toward the statue. It smacked into Cupid’s head, denting it.

Not much, but something. She returned to reading.

An hour later, another black-uniformed maid, a little white cap on her head, came inside to ask if she needed anything.

Emma set down the book. “Alex would suffice.”

“The prince is busy with meetings.” The servant twisted her hands. “You’ve been asked to remain here, in your room.”

Her temper began to soar again. “And Alice?”

“The Queen is visiting with her this morning and finding her a suitable tutor. If you require nothing else, no refreshment…”

“No thanks. I’ve had enough sprouts for a lifetime.”

When the maid left, Emma went to the window and stared outside at the palace gardens and the jagged purple mountains in the distance. People were walking in the gardens and overhead, two silver dragons circled the palace like helicopters.

Security, probably.

She felt invisible once more, only this was worse, because she had admitted her love to Alex. She’d made herself vulnerable and opened her heart.

And in this cold stone palace where dragons guarded the doorways with lethal weapons, an exposed heart could be a target. Alex had already shot an arrow there by ignoring her.

She tried sending him another telepathic message, but it was like a dead telephone line. Just a lot of buzzing static.

Almost without thinking, she traced a rune on the windowpane. Yet another Fae trait. Emma hugged herself, wishing Alex would arrive in her room, hug her and tell her it would be all right.

What if it wasn’t? Where would she go? Back to her clan, where no one but Sabrina would be happy to see her again? And if the princess married Alex, well, that would be sheer torment.

Maybe it was time to explore her Fae roots and see what kind of life her father’s people led.

But she longed for Alex, and her chest actually hurt at the thought of never seeing him again.

“Alex,” she whispered, drawing another rune on the windowpane, “please come back to me. Please. I can’t bear it.”