The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  However, the gown was stunning, and it left me breathless. Patches of lace were strategically sewn all over the dress. The pattern within the lace were stunning little flowers that Isabelle had made by hand. The front dipped down in a low v, accentuating my small breasts to look make them look larger than they were, but my shoulders were covered by the sheer lace that I was so in love with. The dress reached the floor with its many layers of skirts, but it was not nearly as many as the first, and my waist was no longer so small that I looked sickly in the gown. When I looked in the mirror, I was certain that I was dreaming because I had never looked so much like royalty.

  I was certainly a queen now.

  “Do you like it, my lady?” Isabelle asked hesitantly.

  “I think it is the most beautiful gown that this kingdom will ever see,” I whispered, almost to myself.

  “I'm so glad you like it,” Isabelle said. Then, in a moment of uninhibited glee, she rushed forward and squeezed me in a bone-crushing hug. I let out a small laugh and returned the gesture before Lydia managed to tug her away.

  “Come, now. You don't want to make him anxious. Best not to leave him at the altar,” Lydia said with an uncharacteristically bright smile. “James is waiting for you outside.”

  As I had no father figure in my life, I decided that James should be the one to walk me down the aisle. He had been the one who supported me through some of the most trying times in the palace, and he loved Archer very much. He had guided me when I thought no one else could and all hope was lost. Yes, we played on opposite sides for a while, but I saw that his actions were made out of necessity. When he apologized, I accepted, and we started the journey of mending our relationship. I couldn't think of a better man to have by my side on my wedding day.

  “Are you ready?” James asked softly as we stood outside of the doors to the main hall. His brown eyes searched my face, but, unlike the first time we did this walk together, I was now certain instead of wary.

  “Yes.”

  I walked down the aisle with my arm looped through James's, beaming at all those who turned up to see me marry their king. My maids had managed to scuttle into a few chairs just before James and I had begun our walk, and both Isabelle and Jasmine grinned widely at me while Lydia watched me with quiet respect. The kitchen staff looked delighted, not having been a part of something like this ever, and all of the guards appeared to be just as pleased, though they worked hard to conceal it. However, one pair of eyes was not on me. Andrew was looking directly at Isabelle. He seemed stricken with the sweet maid, and that only made me happier. They both deserved lovely partners, and I knew that Andrew was not the man for me, but he could very easily be everything that Isabelle had dreamed of.

  And, there, at the end of the aisle, was my kind husband. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood perfectly still in his ceremonial uniform, the same one he wore for our first wedding. But those eyes were sparkling with happiness, and a smile graced his handsome face. For the briefest moment, I thought I saw tears glisten his eyes, but then he blinked, and I wasn't able to ascertain.

  Regardless, I thanked James for walking me down the aisle, placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, then moved to my rightful place. In front of my husband.

  The ceremony proceeded. Archer held my hands the entire time, and his eyes scarcely left my face. I doubted that I looked any less love sick than he did. For some moments, I struggled not to cry, and, in some words, Archer's voice cracked with emotion. I knew some of our guests were snuffling and wiping away tears as well. I had never been more in love or excited in my entire life. I nearly burst when the priest announced that we could kiss. But it was Archer who took it slowly, gently cradling my face in his hands before he lowered his mouth to mine in a tender but short kiss.

  And, there, surrounded by people we loved and valued and people who loved and valued us, we were ready to progress towards our new life as king and queen of the werewolf community.

  Epilogue

  “King Archer has returned,” Lydia announced, her strong eyes meeting mine. “He will be here shortly.” Her eyes soon drifted down to the bundle of blanket that rested on my arms.

  I laid in my bed, still exhausted and still very sore while I held my tiny day-old baby in my arms. I knew that I should be delighted that my husband was back, and that he would be coming home to such an unexpected surprise. My baby wasn't supposed to arrive for another couple of weeks. When Archer's men demanded assistance with a diplomatic issue concerning a certain pack, I pushed him to go, telling him I would be fine. He wouldn't be allowed in the room when I was giving birth anyway, so it wouldn't matter even if it did happen.

  I went into labour shortly after he left. When I was screaming my heart out in the middle of the night from the pain, I was terrified. I knew nothing about raising a child, and I had heard hundreds of horror stories about women dying in birth. In those moments, I was baffled that I had ever been excited about pregnancy. Then I thought about the possibility of the baby not making it through the ordeal. My heart beat in a frenzy then. And, more than once, when I looked at the midwife's bloody hands or felt the pain rip through my body, I was certain that I would not make it to see the morning light on my baby's face. But, I made it, and so did my child.

  And I was stunned when the midwife announced that I had a baby girl.

  Archer had become the best husband that I could ask for. We spent a tremendous amount of time together, and he always treated me with quiet respect and dignity. When he came across a particularly hard case in the royal court, we would discuss it over dinner. I never thought he would be the type to ask my opinion when many men thought that women were not be concerned with such matters. But he even put my words into action when I made a valid point which warmed my heart immensely. He often rode his new horse, an old mare with draft blood in her, alongside Jester, and we would laugh about the craziness of our lives or simply admire the world around us. We discussed my fears of my inability to get pregnant, but he soothed them all away, telling me that a child was not a necessity. He could simply name an heir when the time came. Then when I became disgustingly ill because of the baby, he had smoothed my hair back and read to me while I drifted in and out of sleep. All in all, the past year had been amazing—even with the stress of moving an entire kingdom—and it had been wonderful when we discovered I was with child, despite the unpleasant parts of the pregnancy.

  He had been thrilled, as had I, but we both just assumed it would be a boy. A strong young man to fill in his father's shoes as king when the time came. It only made sense as one rarely heard of a king having anything other than a son. Having a girl was never even something I had considered happening. And though Archer had been perfect, I wondered if this would be too much for him. Maybe this would cause him to snap after we all thought he had become the perfect king. He could disregard her and continue to impregnate me until I gave him a son to sit in the throne. It was what kings often did, but, now, I couldn't even consider having another child.

  “Does he know?” I asked softly, cradling the child closer to my chest, as if to protect her from the fears in my mind.

  “No, my lady,” Lydia said softly. “We thought it would be best if you told him yourself.”

  I just nodded and peered down at my child as my maids left the room.

  She had her hand in her mouth. Something close to a smile curved her lips as her large blue eyes stared up at me. Her hair was quickly darkening from the chestnut colour it had been at birth to an almost black colour like Archer's. When I had first seen her, I sobbed uncontrollably, amazed by how much I loved her immediately and how delighted I was to hold something that was half me and half my husband. I had felt more complete than I ever had before. I felt like my heart would burst from all of the overwhelming feelings, and the pain of labour was all worth it to hear her cry and to know that she was completely healthy, despite being brought into the world early.

  “Willow,” Archer whispered, poking his head into my b
edroom. When his eyes landed on me and he saw me holding a tiny bundle as I tucked it underneath the blankets, his expression shifted to one of concern and delight at the same time. “Did I miss it?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, unable to stop the tiny smile from touching my lips. “But, it's alright. They took wonderful care of me, and everything went smoothly.” Hearing his voice and seeing his face still made my heart flutter in my chest.

  I was delighted to see my husband, but when he walked towards us, my heart clenched as worry plagued the happy feelings that swarmed in me. I was about to give him news that no king would want to hear.

  “Are you alright?” he asked as he got closer. As he asked me the question, his eyes roved my covered body to see if they could find their own answer. “Everything went as it should; you aren't hurt?”

  “I am perfectly well,” I soothed.

  “And the baby?” he pressed.

  “Very healthy too.”

  He visibly relaxed and pulled up an armchair to the side of the bed before he sat down, trying to steal a peek at the small bundle that was cradled to my chest. The curiosity was plain on his face now.

  “I would've never left if I had known,” he stated apologetically.

  “I know, but it's alright. You wouldn't be allowed in until after the baby was born anyway. And I was so tired I fell asleep almost immediately after,” I explained, rocking my baby girl as she let out a little whimper.

  “And have you decided on a name?” he asked. We had narrowed it down to two before he had left. He liked the name Sampson, but I preferred Anton. We agreed that when the baby was born, I would look at him and know which name suited him best. Obviously, neither of the names we had chosen suited the baby I now held in my arms.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “And?”

  “I think your daughter should be named Athena,” I answered boldly.

  I had read many books about the Greeks and their gods. Athena was a leader and important all throughout the mythology. The favorite of Zeus, born fully grown and dressed in armor, prepared for battle. Though a fierce warrior, she was also praised for her compassion and generosity. And that is what I wanted my daughter to have. I wanted her to be strong, stubborn, ready for any challenge the world threw at her, but loving and forgiving to those who needed it.

  I watched Archer's reaction to my confession closely, worried about how he would feel now about the baby that had already stolen my heart. His shoulders slowly lowered, as if letting out a sigh. Those serious brown eyes grew wide, but I wasn't able to read the expression in them as his lips parted. No words came out. His brow furrowed, but he didn't look angry or confused. I couldn't read him at all, and little Athena just began to whimper in my arms again, stirring. In seconds, she began to cry.

  He silently reached forward.

  I carefully moved Athena into his arms, still desperately trying to read his reaction as he drew her in towards his chest. Once she was in his hands, her sobs turned into gentle hiccupping sounds. The world was still for a moment as he brought her to his chest. Her little noises of distress stopped all together.

  When his brown eyes met her blue ones, a heartbreakingly handsome smile broke out across his face and tears filled his serious eyes.

  “Yes,” he whispered, almost to himself. Ever so tenderly, he reached out and touched his forefinger to the tip of her tiny nose. “Athena. The goddess of wisdom, law, and courage.” His fingers traced the soft skin of her forehead and moved down to her chubby little cheeks, still smiling as the his tears rolled down. “My little Athena.”

  I stayed silent, astonished, as my husband held our baby to his chest. The tears stopped shortly after, but he refused to stop touching her and cooing at her. He laughed and cradled her tightly, only to pull her away so he could attempt to memorize every detail of her face before he told her how precious and wonderful she was. He kissed her little forehead and sighed happily as he watched her closely. He had never looked so handsome to me.

  “So you aren't upset?” I asked, still wary.

  “Oh, Willow, how could I be upset when you've given me such a wonderful gift?” he breathed. He used one arm to keep Athena tucked against him and grabbed my hand tightly with the other. “She's perfect. You have done an amazing job.”

  “Do you think she can be queen?” I pressed.

  “I think she will be the most remarkable queen.” His brown eyes were glowing with happiness when he raised them to mine. “Well, the most remarkable after Queen Willow, the first queen of the werewolves,” he corrected then lifted my hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss just below my wedding ring.

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  Here is a sample from another story you may enjoy:

  Chapter 1

  I settled myself on the saddle, feeling the powerful horse’s every stride as he moved. I took a deep breath, letting all of my previous worries waft away. Here, with my beautiful horse, Poison, I didn’t have to worry about curtseying properly, the right fork to eat a salad with, or the best way to wear a tiara. All I had to think about was rising on the correct diagonal while keeping myself in a calm, happy state.

  I glanced at the small fences that I had set up in the massive indoor arena and encouraged Poison into a smooth canter. He took off easily, his ears perked forward with excitement. As we got closer to the jump, I could feel his pace quicken beneath me with excitement so I gently tugged on the reins, bringing him back to reality, then steered him around the jump. Poison obeyed, like I knew he would.

  He loved jumping, but he didn’t work on autopilot. He snorted and shook his head, annoyed with my tricks, but when I looped him around and switched his lead, he still stayed at a good, level pace. Even when we approached the jump, he stayed eager and responsive.

  The barn door slammed as someone entered.

  “Princess Adeline!”

  Poison let out a startled scream at the booming voice and dug his heels down into the sand. I had been ready to jump with him and not prepared for a sudden stop. I let out a surprised cry as I tumbled forward, falling onto Poison’s strong neck.

  I quickly collected myself, sitting upright and getting a better grip on the reins. Once I had gotten myself together, I gave the reins a light tug, grounding Poison as I spoke soothingly to him. The black beast didn’t bolt like he would’ve months ago, but I could feel how antsy he had become.

  I glared over at the guard who stood stiffly at the door, staring at me as if he had done no wrong.

  “What is it?” I hissed out through tightly clenched teeth. “What was so important it couldn’t wait till after I was over the jump?” I demanded.

  The guard, Preston, just ticked his chin up defiantly. “The queen and king demand your presence for dinner,” he said, his gray eyes narrowing into slits. “So I suggest you get off that animal and go straight to the palace.”

  I hated Preston. I hated him with all I had in me. Since I had been a young girl, my parents had deemed him to be the only one who could look after me, though I protested extensively. He was arrogant beyond belief and less than thrilled when he found out he was going to be nothing more than a baby sitter. Still, my parents were fairly busy, and I knew there was very little time we got to spend together.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I sighed reluctantly.

  I wanted to defy Preston for the sheer purpose of setting his teeth on edge, but my parents would not be pleased.

  Preston shook his head. “Now, Princess, they were quite frustrated when I left; we don’t want to make them angrier.”

  “But Poison needs to be cooled down and brushed,” I protested.

  “You have staff for that. Hand him off to a groom and come with me,” he ordered.

  I wanted to snap at him, remind him that I
was the royalty here, not him. But I knew he would go crying to my parents, telling them how unladylike and rude I had been. The last thing I wanted was for my father to sigh and look at me with pleading eyes while he told me, again, how important it was to be nice to staff. Frankly, if my mother―the hot head of the two―had to deal with the real Preston for more than five minutes, she would come undone and fire him, but I didn’t have my mother’s authority, and Preston would forever kiss my parent’s asses in hopes of a promotion. They would never see fault in his actions and only believe his accusations against me.

  I slid off Poison after I made sure he was perfectly calm again, and then I led him out of the arena and back into the barn. I handed him to the first groom I saw and told him what Poison needed, trying not to sound too dejected. I knew the staff in my barns were the best for miles, but Poison was still my horse who deserves my attention.

  “Come now, Adeline! We can’t keep your parents waiting any longer!” Preston called.

  I grumbled profanities under my breath and walked behind him.

  I supposed to many people I was lucky. I lived in a grand palace with my loving parents. We had acres upon acres of land to ourselves, more than enough luxurious cars, a handful of staff to attend to our needs, and a healthy amount of guards to protect us from every angle. I had clothes from every material in every style hand-sewn by my personal seamstress, and my parents didn’t bat an eye when I said I wanted horses and a big fancy barn.

  When I was young, I thought it was all amazing. I had an indoor swimming pool to impress all my friends, a big theater room inside my own house, my room was enormous, and I had personal chefs who would make whatever I was craving at the wave of a hand. But now, things were different. I was completely alienated from my peers; it seemed like my only real friend now was my horse, and my days were filled with lectures about things I hardly cared about: the correct etiquette, how to curtsey, and the history of the waltz. And through it all, there was Preston, tailing me, watching my every move.