The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince: An Epic Fantasy Romance (Heirs of Magic Book 1)

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “Sit down,” she said to Gen, who’d risen to leave. “We’re not done here.”

  Gen narrowed her indigo eyes, unusual fire in them. “You don’t get to tell me.”

  “Please,” Zeph added pointedly. “I need to know the truth. Are you in love with Astar? Is that why you’re so pissed at me? It’s like we’re enemies these days, and I—I hate that. I wish you would talk to me, like we used to.”

  Gen stood there, vibrating with tension, then threw herself back down in the chair, releasing a huff of air. With her head tipped back, she stared at the ceiling, the anger seeping out of her. “I’m sorry, Zeph.”

  “Surely that’s my line,” Zeph replied lightly, taken aback by the sudden change—and the sense of profound despair coming off her cousin.

  Gen shook her head, rolling it against the chair, eyes closed as if in pain. “No, I apologize. I know I’ve been awful—and I know everybody is sick of me.”

  “That’s not true,” Zeph lied, then searched for a better lie. “Everyone is much more annoyed with Rhy than with you.”

  Gen rolled her head in Zeph’s direction and opened one eye. “Somehow that does not make me feel better.”

  Yeah. For all her flaws, Zeph was honest to a fault. Even when she should find softer words, she seemed to miss the mark. “So what’s the problem?” she asked. “If you’re in love with Astar, you can tell me. It might help me to know.”

  “It might help me to know,” Gen said, returning her baleful gaze to the ceiling. “For a while I thought I was,” she admitted. “I’ve also thought I was in love Rhy, and with Jak.”

  “All excellent choices,” Zeph ventured, trying to think of what someone more sensitive than she was—like Nilly or Lena—might say. “They’re all the best of men, and they care for you.”

  “As a friend,” Gen spat, as if that were the worst thing in the world.

  “Astar and I were friends before we became lovers,” Zeph pointed out, not understanding. Wasn’t it always better to like the people you took to bed? She realized her misstep when Gen emitted an incoherent sound reminiscent of a screech owl.

  “It’s not the same,” Gen wailed, clutching the arms of the chair and banging her head against the high back. “You can’t possibly understand.”

  “I’m trying to understand,” Zeph ground out in pure frustration. “You aren’t explaining.”

  Gen lifted her head and glared. “You’re really terrible at this.”

  “I know. You should absolutely talk to Nilly or Lena instead.”

  “I have,” Gen admitted. “And they don’t understand either. Lena has been in love with Rhy for so much of her life that she has no idea what it’s like not to have someone like that. Nilly sympathizes, but she’s so above stuff like this that she doesn’t get it. And you—”

  She broke off so abruptly that Zeph braced herself. “Just say it,” she said.

  Gen sighed. “You are so beautiful, sexy, wild, and free. You can have anyone you want—and pretty much have.”

  “I haven’t had everyone I ever wanted,” Zeph protested.

  “You have now,” Gen said soberly. “Astar was the only holdout, and now he’s yours, just like all the rest.”

  That might be true—and she’d have to think about that later. “So, who do you want?”

  “That’s the problem,” Gen replied, sounding hopeless. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m really confused,” Zeph confessed. “You’re all upset because you want a lover that you don’t know who it is?”

  “Yes!” Gen pounced on that, eyes brightening. “That’s exactly it.”

  “But how can you want someone you haven’t met?”

  “It’s impossible,” Gen agreed. “You do understand.”

  Zeph really didn’t think so—but her head was starting to swim from the circular conversation, so she hesitated to say as much. She settled for nodding sagely, which seemed to soothe Gen.

  “What if I go my whole life never meeting my true love?” Gen asked, stricken. “I’ll die a miserable virgin. Dead without having lived.”

  A melodramatic, miserable virgin, Zeph thought to herself, but wisely didn’t say aloud. Who said she didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut? “It’s entirely possible to lose your virginity without meeting your true love,” she said instead. “In fact, I think it’s preferable. Healthy and natural.”

  Gen shook her head. “No, it should be magical. Look at Lena and Rhy, losing their virginity to each other. First love. True love.” She sighed dreamily.

  “And Rhy immediately screwed someone else, making the whole thing a lie.”

  Gen shot her a reproving look. “That’s another story and not relevant.”

  Seemed particularly relevant to Zeph. Maybe if Lena hadn’t been so quick to confess undying love for Rhy, he wouldn’t have reacted so badly. Another opinion she kept to herself. “I didn’t lose my virginity to any true love.”

  “Yes, but you’re you. I doubt you even remember who it was.”

  That would sting, except it was kind of true. It really depended on what you considered to be actual virginity and what exact act constituted losing it. For Zeph, it had been a more gradual process. Not like with Astar, who’d done almost nothing before her. “And I might be Astar’s first sex,” she continued that line of thought, “but he’s not in love with me.”

  Gen gave her a canny stare. “Isn’t he?”

  “No.” Zeph laughed, but Gen didn’t. “I don’t believe people fall in love overnight.”

  “Maybe they do; maybe they don’t. That’s another debate entirely. I think Astar has been in love with you for years.”

  Zeph huffed in exasperation. “Then he had a funny way of showing it, because until this, he’s rejected my advances. Sometimes harshly.” I don’t want you enough to compromise my principles. That will never change. But it did change. Did he decide he wanted her enough?

  “Yes, until you wore him down and he gave in,” Gen insisted. “He resisted because he loves you and knew it would only lead to heartbreak and ruin.”

  Heartbreak and Ruin—sounded like twin cities one would never want to visit. “He hasn’t said anything like that.”

  “He won’t because he knows that you won’t return the feeling. Astar doesn’t want to play Salena to your Rhyian.”

  Ouch. “I would not do to Astar what Rhy did to Lena. I would never hurt him that way.”

  “So you’ll be faithful to him for the rest of your life?”

  “What? No, that’s not the same thing.”

  “For me, it is.”

  “Not everything has to be in terms of forever!”

  Gen stood, smoothing her skirts as Zeph sat, stunned into silence. “For Astar, it does—but I won’t say anything more. Thank you for listening to what I had to say, though I know it won’t change anything. Nothing has ever stopped you from seizing what you want.” She smile ruefully. “I actually envy that about you. Maybe I wouldn’t be so unhappy if I were more like you.”

  Zeph caught her hand. “Consider playing around some. There’s a ball tonight, yes? Lots of new faces, new bodies to dance with.”

  “Yes. I’m hoping—though not counting on—maybe meeting someone special.”

  Zeph shook her head vigorously. “No. Ditch that idea. Stop evaluating every person you meet for true-love potential and just find one thing to enjoy about them. Think about it like shapeshifting. You try out a lot of forms that you never go back to, right? But you learn from them what you do like.”

  “Interesting analogy. I’ll give it some thought.” Gen squeezed her hand, swinging it lightly. “I do wish you happy, Zephyr. You know that, right?”

  She hadn’t been sure at all, so that was good to hear. “I’ll be careful with Astar’s heart,” she said impulsively.

  Gen smiled, relief in it. “That’s all I ask.”

  ~ 20 ~

  The ball was in full swing by the time Astar made it there. Between short sleep the night before and
an excruciatingly long day of meetings with Groningen—plus his multitudes of heirs, advisers, and minor nobles, who’d been arriving in an unending stream—Astar was tempted to simply head to his room and bed.

  If he thought Zephyr would be there, he’d do exactly that. As it was, he knew he’d find all of his friends at the ball, if only because they’d be dedicated to preserving the cover story. He’d give a bit of service to the role-playing himself, dance a time or two with his gorgeous lover, then tempt her back to their room. He’d been building several detailed fantasies over the course of the day—only during the boring and repetitive bits, otherwise he observed his duty and paid close attention—of things he’d like to do with her.

  Feeling like a lad again, he craned his neck, trying to see over the crowd—anticipating the first glimpse of her. He should’ve found out what color she’d be wearing. In that crush of people, it would take forever to find her.

  “Astar, my boy,” Groningen boomed out—and Astar had to exert a lifetime’s worth of disciplining himself not to flinch at the call of a demanding monarch—the king striding up to him. He couldn’t let his amusement show, but maybe Zephyr was right that the man was some kind of mythical beast who didn’t need rest. Groningen certainly looked no worse for wear. He’d changed into more elaborate robes for the ball, and escorted a pretty young woman on his arm. She wore a rich gown that practically screamed royalty and a glittering tiara.

  She gave Astar a blinding smile. He got a very bad feeling.

  “Astar, my boy,” Groningen repeated, patting the young woman’s hand, “may I present my granddaughter Princess Berendina.” He winked broadly. “I think you will have seen her name before.”

  Yes, on the list Ursula had pressed onto him. Except she wasn’t supposed to be here. Astar had thought her safely distant from Zephyr, in some small realm even farther north and east. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Berendina,” he said, taking the hand she offered and bowing over it. Not touching her otherwise. At least his ingrained manners allowed him to appear gallant, despite the sick feeling in his stomach. Good thing he hadn’t found Zephyr yet, after all.

  “Dina, please,” she corrected with a gracious smile. “And likewise, Your Highness Crown Prince Astar.”

  “Dina just arrived from her home in Jorrit, one my northern principalities, and I thought, what luck!” Groningen said, as if he hadn’t been the one to summon his very eligible granddaughter to meet Astar. He disconnected himself from his granddaughter and stepped away. “This is an excellent opportunity for you to get to know each other. A party.” He waved expansively. “Dancing,” he added, giving Astar a meaningful stare.

  Jorrit. That was the place, right on the border with Branli, and a potentially critical gateway to the mineral riches of the Northern Wastes. Consigning his hopes to the fire that he might find Zephyr quickly and drown in her affection while he could, Astar nodded pleasantly. “I’d be delighted if you’d favor me with a dance?”

  She twinkled at him, a convincing show of pleasure, with no clue as to her genuine feelings. After Zephyr’s blunt honesty, he was hard-pressed not to think poorly of Dina for her pretty, political façade. It wasn’t at all fair to her, as none of this was any more her fault than his own. She’d been raised as a princess and probably relentlessly groomed her entire life with the ultimate goal of winning the position of high queen. Astar doubted anything could budge her from her training or the script she’d memorized for playing out this particular encounter.

  Soonest done, soonest over with. He led Dina onto the dance floor, grateful for the crowd that now shielded him from Zephyr spotting him in turn. Given her reaction to the mere existence of the list, he didn’t want to rely on her good behavior at seeing him dance with a princess whose name was on it. Zephyr was no fool—even if she hadn’t seen the actual list, she’d put things together. At least Salena’s ruby ring was back with his clothes in the carriage and not here where her sharp eyes might pick it out among his things.

  If he’d had time to plan for this moment, he would’ve had Nilly intervene and distract Zephyr. But no luck there. Maybe Zephyr’s flirtatious ways would work in his favor this time. She could hardly fault him for dancing with someone else. The Tala weren’t jealous like that, no matter how possessive the gríobhth nature might be. In truth, it would be more likely that Zephyr had found someone new to titillate her ever-roving eye. Now that she’d finally achieved her goal of bedding him, she’d be losing interest. He didn’t harbor any illusions about Zephyr. He’d known from the beginning that she would never be exclusively his, or even his for very long. And he could hardly blame her, as he could never be hers, either.

  He had hoped, however, that their affair would last just a little longer. Still, he’d be gracious and let her go, if she truly was ready to move on already. At least, he’d make a convincing show of it.

  “Is dancing with me that much of a trial, Your Highness?” Dina inquired, a teasing smile on her lips. “With such a frown, you’re making me worry I’m crushing your toes.”

  Danu take him—he’d been so caught up in dark thoughts that he’d let his own polite façade lapse. He knew better. Zephyr just had a way of tangling him up so he lost his bearings. Thinking about her was not unlike plummeting through the sky on her back, exhilarating, terrifying, and leaving him unable to think about anything else.

  “Forgive me,” he said, adding his most charming smile. Dina relaxed immediately, beaming back at him with every appearance of sincerity. “It’s been a difficult journey and a long day of meetings. And please, call me Astar.”

  “I’ve been hearing the rumors,” she breathed. “People can’t stop talking about that lunar eclipse over the Strait of K’van on the night of the crystalline moon. Do you believe it’s a terrible omen?”

  “Not at all,” he replied smoothly, the lie coming easily to the tongue now. “There was simply an unusually dense storm that formed suddenly, temporarily obscuring the moon before it moved on again.”

  “How fascinating. But then what did anyone expect? Nothing is so large as to obscure the moon!” She laughed gaily, and Astar did his best to smile along. Nothing they knew of… yet.

  “I also heard how you single-handedly defeated that stone monster,” she added with widened eyes.

  “You flatter me.” Irked but determined to do a better job of being entertaining, he tried to gently correct her misunderstanding. “I was but part of a group, and probably the least heroic of the lot.”

  “I heard you fell from the sky.” She added a delicate shudder, all big, wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “How strong you must be to survive such a trauma!”

  Only because Zephyr had taken the brunt of the fall. He didn’t like to question Her Majesty’s wisdom—and would certainly never countermand her orders—but it felt wrong to deny Zephyr’s extraordinary gríobhth form, and her role in saving them all. “Rumors exaggerate,” he said, adding a warm smile to mitigate the somewhat harsh words.

  “Oh, you’re so humble,” she returned with a similarly practiced smile. “I hadn’t expected such a virtue in our next high king. But I should have. All anyone says about you is how noble, honorable, and charming you are.” Her pink lips curved in a coy smile. “The stories did not do justice to how handsome you are as well. You exceed my expectations in every way.”

  She trailed off hopefully, leaving him the perfect opening to return the compliment—which he might be able to do if he wasn’t remembering Zephyr’s hands on his cock as she purred nearly those very words. Scrambling to banish that titillating image from his mind, he searched for a suitable compliment to give Dina. No doubt he’d been told lovely things about her. Even before the final list had been presented to him, Ursula and her advisers had provided him with detailed information about each potential candidate. Yes, the descriptions tended to focus on the political advantages of each match, but they had included bits they thought might tempt Astar.

  He’d committed the list to memory,
as was his duty to do, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall any of it now. When he asked his usually reliable brain for information on his potential brides, all it delivered were images of a naked Zephyr rising above him as he sheathed himself in her, glossy black hair escaping in wild coils around her full breasts, her eyes flashing sapphires and lush lips parted as she—

  “Astar,” Dina asked, a slight frown marring her brow, “are you well? You’re quite flushed.”

  He didn’t doubt it. What he did question was how he’d allowed himself to fantasize about another woman while dancing with a potential fiancée. Wonderful. Now he was losing his mind. “I must apologize again. I’m afraid I am a bit out of sorts this evening, and I’m being unforgivably rude.”

  Her frown vanished, her expression entirely sympathetic. “Not at all. I’m the one who’s put you in a difficult position, keeping you on the dance floor when you told me how exhausted you are. Perhaps we should find a quiet alcove where we can talk, get to know one—”

  “Your Highness Crown Prince Astar,” Zephyr said from right behind him, sounding polite for her, but he didn’t miss the sardonic lilt in her use of his title. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dance, but there’s a message from Ordnung. Urgent.”

  He and Dina had already halted, both turning to face Zephyr as the ballroom full of dancers whirled around them. She wore the scarlet gown she’d had on at the Feast of Moranu ball—no doubt had cached it to shift into for occasions like this—and it displayed her full bosom and lithe figure to distracting advantage. With her dramatic coloring, she made a distinct contrast to Dina, whose demurely elegant gown and blonde prettiness dimmed in comparison. The three of them formed a tense triangle, a still point in a spinning universe of music and color.

  “Zephyr.” He cleared his throat. “This is Princess Berendina of Jorrit, one of King Groningen’s granddaughters.”

  “Delighted to meet any friend of Astar’s,” Dina said, offering a hand.