The Mating Destiny: Werewolves of Montana Book 7 Read online

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.”

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Her heart leapt upward. She hurried to the door and opened to see Alex standing outside. Joy turned to fear when she saw his grim expression.

  Resplendent in black trimmed with silver, in leggings and a black tunic, and black boots on his feet, he looked every inch the prince.

  A hank of black hair hung over his brow. He pushed it back with a hand that shook. “Em, we must talk.”

  She opened the door wider and he entered, and then closed and locked the door behind him. Not good. Emma went to the window again, her pulse racing.

  “It would have been nice to be freed from my room instead of being requested to remain here like a prisoner.”

  He joined her at the window. “I requested that you stay in your room until I could deal with my cousin and friends who hurt you. I do not want you wandering the palace and running into them, Em.”

  “Oh.” She understood now. “Where are they?”

  “They’re gone.” His expression darkened. “Nils, Vincente and Clayton packed and left last night. Maurice is gone as well, his rooms emptied. I do not know where, but I shall find out.”

  That was troubling. She didn’t like the notion of those four escaping and then popping up later like assassins in a violent video game.

  “You should have told me earlier, Alex. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t go running off and presenting myself like a target. ‘Hey, look at me!’ You’ve ignored me all this morning and all last night.”

  Alex laced his hands behind his back and stared out the window. “I met with Father last night.”

  “And?”

  “I needed private time to process what he told me.”

  “And?”

  “It wasn’t good news.”

  “And?”

  “He thinks I should make you my mistress.”

  “What?!”

  “Em, he is forbidding me to marry you. If I do, I’ll cease being his son and I’ll be banished from my clan forever.”

  Her jaw dropped. “How can he do that? You’re his blood!”

  She thought of the father she’d barely remembered, and the mother she’d lost five years ago. Emma knew she would have given anything to be with her parents. For the king to disinherit and banish his son was far more cruel than the beating she received from Alex’s friends.

  Turning from the window, Alex cupped her cheek, his gaze tender. “I love you, Em. But love isn’t enough for my father. If I marry you, he’ll disinherit me. He gave me until this morning to make my decision. You or the kingdom.”

  “So. I’m a one-night stand.” She laughed, the sound bitter to her own ears. “At least it w
as a wonderful night. I’ll cherish that, always. Although I do wish you would have left me in the brothel and we never saw each other again.”

  Surely that would not hurt half as much as her aching heart right now.

  “Never.” Alex lifted her chin to meet his glittering gaze. “You are my heart and my soul, Em. Ruling over Clan Ciamoth or Clan Drakon is pointless without you at my side. You are the air I breathe, the calm in the storm. The only woman for me. I cannot live without you.”

  A wicked grin touched his handsome face. “Besides, who else can I make fart jokes with?”

  Tears pricked her eyelids. “Oh Alex, I love you so much…but what are you going to do?”

  “Leave.” His hand fell. “But I wish to buy time, for both of us. Postpone things until Maurice and my friends are found and dealt with, and I know you’ll be safe. Father has to grant that much to me.”

  “Are you certain? Alex, why is he doing this? You’re his son. Is he that against half-bloods?”

  Alex sighed. “I think he is more of a traditionalist than I realized. And he fears the wrath of the wizards of the Brethon if we don’t take steps to reconcile all the clans. Father has always carried the burden of being the leader of the warrior dragon clan, and by uniting two clans, he sees this as an example for the others.”

  She took his hand, feeling the rough callouses, the long, slender fingers. “Maybe he would listen to reason if he knew that there are ancient laws that can find a way around his dilemma. I’ve been reading the books in your library. The law books of your clan.”

  Alex blinked. “And?”

  “I found a law that may be a way out for you.”

  “And?”

  “It has to do with your being Prince Regent.”

  “And?”

  “It allows your father to remain the monarch, but you are the ruling authority, for a limited time. The elders of your clan made that law to give young princes a chance to test out the authority of being a king.”

  “Hmm. Like test driving a car?”

  “It may not maneuver as nicely as a BMW, but it could be an out for you. You could tell Clan Ciamoth that you’re postponing any decisions about uniting the clans while you test out the throne for your father.”

  Her heart sank. “Of course, it wouldn’t address marriage to me, and you’d have to remain single while you did it. But you wouldn’t lose everything like you would if you married me.”

  Alex bent his head, touching his forehead to hers. “My beautiful Em. Always thinking. So practical.”

  She slid up a hand to graze his jawline. “Thinking of you, Alex. Always you.”

  He took her hand. “It’s worth a discussion. Let’s find my father.”

  Balking, she hung back. “He won’t wish to see me.”

  “He will,” Alex said firmly. “It’s your idea and a good one.”

  “There’s something else, my love.” She took a deep breath. “My dragon powers are gone, now that the egg has lost its magick. But I’ve been exploring my Fae powers. I can create energy balls.”

  Alex blinked. “Seriously? That’s a very potent weapon, Em.”

  She grinned. “Don’t worry. I promise to fry only people I don’t like. And the cook who sent me those damn sprouts.”

  Picking up her hand, he brushed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. “My father will admire you, Em. He has respect for Others, especially the Fae.”

  Doubt filled her, but she went with him, out of the room and down the winding staircase. In the hallway, Alex halted a maid dusting at a gilded portrait of the king and queen.

  “Have you seen my father?”

  “I think I saw him in the Rose Garden, Your Highness,” the maid said, curtsying.

  Alex tugged her toward the back of the palace, to the door leading outside. “Roses again,” he muttered. “My world is collapsing and he’s picking roses like a godsdamn gardener.”

  Once outside they hurried toward the garden, but as they started to pass the practice courtyard, a circular courtyard closed off by a 20-foot wall, Emma saw movement by the gate. And then she saw a familiar face causing dread and anger to tunnel through her.

  Maurice. You ball-less coward.

  She didn’t realize she’d voiced the thought until Alex turned and spotted his cousin.

  He fisted his hands. “You bastard. You hurt Em.”

  “We should talk, cuz.” Maurice gestured to the courtyard. “I can explain.”

  Smoke poured from Alex’s nostrils. “You can fucking spend the next month in a hospital after I’m through with you.”

  Maurice vanished into the courtyard, Alex hot on his feels. Her Fae senses pricked. “Wait, Alex, it’s a trap,” she called out.

  She hurried after him, only to find Alex surrounded by Nils, Clayton and Vincente. Maurice stepped from behind a container filled with lances, spears and swords. He closed and locked the gate behind him and stood there with a smile.

  “Hello Alex. Time for reckoning.”

  Chapter 11

  Alex’s cousin held something behind his back. Emma caught a glimpse of steel and tried to control her fear. She let her anger surge instead, and pointed a finger at Alex’s former friends.

  “I have a bone to pick with you. Rather, a ball.”

  Instinct filled her as her Fae senses surged. Emma envisioned a ball of glowing white hot energy. She opened her palm and a globe, glowing amber and white, danced above her skin. Power filled her, a dark triumph, as she flung the ball at Clayton. It slammed into his stomach. He doubled over and screamed in pain.

  Such a lovely song, after they had made her scream. Again, and again.

  “Good show, Em!” Alex looked furious. “My turn.”

  She conjured another ball as Alex walked up to Vincente and punched him in the jaw.

  “That’s for daring to touch my Em,” Alex breathed. “Who’s next?”

  Nils was, she decided, throwing the second energy ball. It hit Nils in the face and ripped away part of his jaw. He screamed harder than Clayton had.

  The trio ran away to the far end of the courtyard, but Maurice danced out of reach.

  “Alex, you fool. Your reign will never happen.” Maurice laughed. “You’re going to die and your father will live a very long time. The clans will never unite. We are the warriors, not the peacemakers.”

  Maurice sneered at Emma. “Dragons who are half-bloods have no place among our people, and not in our prince’s bed. Once you are dead, Alex, the king will have no choice but to appoint a new heir and abandon this insane idea to combine clans.”

  “No.” Vincente came forward, rubbing his jaw. “Maurice, this is all wrong. You said we would only get rid of Emma, not Alex. He’s the prince.”

  “He must die. He is the corruption in our clan,” Maurice said, inching toward them.

  “I will have no part in this murder,” Vincente protested.

  Emma watched with cynicism as he, Clayton and Nils shifted into dragons and flew away, their wings beating the air madly. It was okay to punch her nearly unconscious and then sell her into sexual slavery, but not to touch the prince. Doubtful it was because they cared about Alex. They only worried Alex would turn them into ground dragon meat.

  “Cowards,” Maurice yelled at their backsides.

  “They’re very smart, cuz. Because they knew I would have cut them up into little tiny pieces.” Alex pushed Emma behind him.

  “You should have paid attention to lessons when I practiced with you. Because I will kill you and purge this stain from our family’s good name.” He finally drew his arm from behind his back.

  She felt Alex tense. “Bastard,” he muttered.

  Oh, so not good. “Alex, what is it?”

  “The Dark Fae-forged ax. It’s okay, Em. Get out of here. Go over to the practice dummy where the weapons are stored. Get a lance and when I give the word, throw it at him.” Alex pushed her aside, his gaze dark. “I can handle the ax.”

  Maurice smiled thinly. “But can she? I th
ink not.”

  He raced forward and swung the ax at her.

  She screamed as the blade sliced her arm. White-hot pain flared and then oddly enough, vanished. Emma ran to the practicing dummy and panting, crouched behind it. She dared to look at her injury, expecting blistering, red flesh. Dark Fae magick seldom healed quickly, unless one was a full dragon like Alex.

  But there was no cut upon her arm. Frowning, she touched it. What happened?

  “Alex, be careful,” she called out.

  “You bastard,” Alex yelled. “Do not touch her!”

  Claws erupted from Alex’s fingertips. He rushed toward Maurice and raked them over his back. Maurice howled, but did not drop the ax.

  Instead, he swerved toward his cousin and swung. The battleax hit Alex hard in the stomach. Gasping, he doubled over and staggered backwards.

  “Alex,” she screamed. “Shift into dragon! It’s the only way to heal yourself!”

  He shifted into dragon and took to the skies. Maurice did the same, circling over the courtyard. Two powerful dragons, evenly matched, except Alex was seriously wounded. If only she could shift! Then she could give Alex assistance.

  Without her dragon’s egg, she had no magick to shift into a dragon. She didn’t even have full protection against the flames. All she had was her Fae powers.

  Not much good against flames. The realization hit her as she looked up and saw Michael heading toward her, his throat glowing red.

  He was going to shoot flames and burn her alive. Emma called upon her Fae powers. She closed her eyes and then opened them.

  A tiny ball of glowing white energy hovered in her opened palm.

  Em, Alex called out in her mind. Run! I’m too far away to help you!

  She ran, but then Maurice was there in front of her, his neck sinuously dipping down, and then rearing back, crimson glowing in his long throat.

  He was going to breathe fire at her, and then once she was char-grilled, snap her neck. Emma flung the energy ball at Maurice.

  He ducked and it went sailing into the stratosphere. She conjured another, and threw it. This one hit Maurice in the neck. He howled, his head snapping back, but then recovered.

  Opening her palm, she saw the white and amber magick glowing on her hands fade and then die. Nothing left. No defenses.