by Holly Gunn
I reach forward and grasp it as he intends.
“Eagle,” he shares his name once more. “Just so it’s official.”
I smile.
“Elizabeth, but my friends call me Iz or Izzy.”
Oddly, he shakes his head. “I intend to be your friend, but I cannot imagine you as anyone other than Elizabeth.”
Him, saying my name like that, I agree.
I never want to be called anything else by him.
“I won,” I hear again, this time louder and closer. I crouch and shift to block Eagle but less than a second later, he’s on his feet behind me.
“And I resign,” Eagle states.
“You can’t resign!” Aunt Hyacinth exclaims with shock. “You’re a king.” She turns to Eagle’s father. “And you …” Her eyes narrow. “What are you thinking? Holding public floggings? Have you gone completely mad?” She’s irate. I smile and stand from my crouch. Aunt Hyacinth is my mom’s sister, and she’s one of seven girls, no boys, all either Fire or Dabbler witches because abuelo was a Dabbler, abuela a Fire witch. “The families and other tribes will hear of this.”
Eagle’s father looks unperturbed and again meets Eagle’s gaze. “I won.”
“You only won because you cheated,” I blurt out.
“Izzy,” Ryn chides.
“What?” I reply. “He was losing. His belly was one swipe away from being eagle shifter guts all over this fancy-ass floor. He only won because Eagle here actually stopped when a queen demanded it.”
I’ve turned Eagle’s way when I make that comment. Oddly, he covers his mouth when I call the floor of his family’s home ‘fancy-ass’.
“She is not my queen,” his father states.
“No,” I reply, taking a step his way, but I feel Eagle slide his arm around my middle. It feels nice. So damn nice. “But she is a queen. And as a king, you should show her the respect she deserves.”
“Show the whore queen respect?”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh no, he didn’t,” Ryn says, her inner L.A. coming out in a way it never does.
“Oh, he did,” her mother answers, with fire in her voice—serious fire.
Whore Queen. Not many would dare say it to her face, but many have said it behind her back. The queen who ignored the rules and took three consorts.
The fact that the results are unmistakable and she created three queens means nothing to those arrogant gossipers.
My aunt takes a step toward the king.
“You have crossed a line, Imperial. You have harmed those within your care. You have harmed your own son. You have used violence in your convocation. And now you insult a queen. You dare greatly.”
“And who is going to stop me from daring?” He asks and holds out his arm to his son. “My injured son?”
Aunt Hyacinth smiles, and oh it’s so evil. I love it instantly.
“Seems he’s up and walking about now, isn’t it?”
Eagle’s father’s eyes move to him.
“The throat slice should have killed him,” the man says indifferently.
I feel Eagle’s arm, that’s still around me, convulse, and I touch my hand to his arm in comfort.
He moves closer to my back, fitting his front to me.
Why, when I’m standing in this large room, after all that’s happened, does that feel more spectacular than any feeling I’ve had in my life?
“You disgust me,” my aunt says. “But since you won’t back down, you will have your fight. Next Saturday evening. A week from today.”
“You are no longer the reigning queen, you can’t decide that,” Imperial replies belligerently, like a child who’s lost his toy. I saw his toy earlier. I’m not a fan of his toys. I want to steal them all, and after using a few on him, throw them in Aunt Hyacinth’s fire.
“Vy and Fee sure can,” Ryn tells him. Her smile isn’t like Aunt Vy’s. She’s not smiling at all. She’s back to her serious and powerful self.
“I’ll win again,” he replies.
“Then so be it,” Eagle enters the conversation. “If I’m not strong enough to take the throne, it’s yours, but Father,” he says, “I am strong enough. And you know it. In a fair fight, you will lose.”
His father glances at Eagle’s arm around me and chooses a different tactic. “If you win, you’ll not be with the whore queen’s daughter.”
I hear a few more gasps but I laugh. “I’m not her daughter. Trust me, if you met Vy and Fee, you’d know. I’m peanuts in comparison.”
Eagle’s father glances around then looks to me nervously.
I follow his movement and look around as well.
Everyone is kneeling and has their heads bowed due to the pressure vacuum of power in the room caused by Imperial’s outburst. Even the blonde on Eagle’s arm from earlier.
The only ones not brought to their knees are me, my aunt, Ryn, Eagle, and my bandmates.
“You’re still standing,” Ryn says in awe.
I shrug because honestly, “Is that a surprise? I’m a Dabbler.”
Ryn smirks but her eyes are still serious. “No, I don’t think you understand—”
“Next Saturday,” the king interrupts. “Annabelle stays in the convocation mansion—”
“No,” Grizz growls, entering the conversation. “You might have made her watch tonight, but you won’t continue using our sister as a pawn. She stays with her friend, Tally, for the week and until the fight is over.”
Ah, so they have a sister … in this home? I’m suddenly more furious than before.
The king’s face is calculating, and I think he looks a bit mad in the eyes, but he does nothing more than nods. “Deal, but you will not live here for the week either, Eagle.”
The man at my back scoffs. I glance up and back. I didn’t think a suit could scoff.
“I believe I’ll survive.”
“You’ll be surprised, I think, son, to find the world isn’t as gracious to those who have to beg for their comforts.”
It’s my turn to scoff and mutter under my breath.
“What did you say, girl?”
I look him in the eye and repeat my mutterings, “I said you’re an ignorant asshat with tiny wings, and you really should quit while you’re ahead. You’ve got nothing on your son that his real family, Heavy, Grizz and Snake can’t give him. And,” I continue, speaking over his furious retorts, which I ignore, “you’ve got the nerve to pretend you’re king of anything when you have to beat a man into submission.”
He growls and moves closer.
Eagle shifts my body to his side and then behind him.
The only thing I regret about what I just said is that Eagle’s arm is no longer around my middle.
“Watch that woman, son. And enjoy her while you can because the only way you’re walking out of here next week is in a body bag or on the arm of your future queen, and it won’t be the arm of a lowly Dabbler. It will be the arm of an eagle female as it has always been in our tribe.”
I feel Eagle stiffen.
It’s like I’m misunderstanding something. I mean, he’ll have a queen for sure, but why is his father so sure of who that will be? I’ve never heard that the eagles have always been ruled by two eagle shifters. Then again, I’m not Esly or even Ryn who devoured any knowledge of the kings they could get their hands on from a young age. Ryn might appear casual about her crown-shaped mark, but she takes both of her future queenships seriously.
“Now, this is just getting boring,” Snake announces from my side. He’s got a glass of champagne in hand and his tie is undone. He also looks like he just landed his boat on an island, and is about to steal off with the local virgin who’s been sitting at her window praying to the gods for just such a man. Devilish. He’s absolutely devilish.
I smile up at him, and he ruffles my hair.
I’m totally going to help him find his virgin queen when the time is right. Or, well not virgin because it’s the 21st century and there are no virgins left. But at
least a powerful beauty who needs a charming snake, the good kind.
The king starts issuing orders, and we all make our way to the entryway.
The blonde snake, the not-good kind, joins us.
“Eagle, come.”
I turn back to him and ask, “I thought you were an eagle? Is she that much of a stereotypical blonde she thinks you can shift into a dog too?”
He covers his mouth, and I see there’s a smile playing beneath his hand. I find it endearing, that small smile. I also find it heartbreaking that he thinks he needs to hide it.
He turns us toward his lady friend. I know my nose is scrunching. I can’t help it.
“Vera Farrell, meet Elizabeth and Ryn, future queen of the Dabbler witches.”
Vera doesn’t even glance at the hand I’ve extended.
I didn’t like her before. I like her less now.
What I’ve realized, though, is that she’s Eagle’s. And I’m holding Eagle’s hand. I’m not his. I want to be. Such power is behind that want that I squeeze his hand, but I don’t do what I should and let go.
She’s not his, I decide then.
He’s mine. It’s ridiculous, I know, but he feels like he’s mine, and I can’t accept any alternative.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
His hand squeezes back, and I look into his eyes, and I see something there, something that suggests maybe he knows exactly what I do.
That no matter what the past has held for his tribe when it comes to leadership, I’m his too.
Vera’s eyes narrow at our joined hands.
“If you must sow your wild oats, I understand, but at least be discreet.”
“Oh no, she didn’t,” Ryn says for the second time that night.
Aunt Hyacinth answers with, “Oh, she did.”
“I’m marked,” I blurt and let go of Eagle’s hand in order to take a step forward. “In the coming months, the kings’ tattoos will go dark. That means us marked to be queens have a different kind of decision on our hands. But let me share something, sweetheart,” I state clearly because I don’t usually judge people, but I don’t think this woman is a natural blonde despite my earlier joke. “That man? He’s mine. I know this because he wears a suit and I still like him.”
She seems to be waiting for me to say more.
I hear a chuckle behind me and know it’s Heavy.
It’s followed by a grunt.
Because this happens, I just know Snake’s sipping champagne and probably eating something while he grins.
Vera glances toward Eagle, “You’ll see, Eagle. And when she touches you and your tattoo stays as it’s always been, you’ll beg me to take you back, to rule at your side. It’s always been an eagle who’s queen of the Eagle tribe. Other tribes may have had witches and other species ruling—but never us.”
“Wait a second,” Ryn interrupts, “your name is Vera Farrell?”
I glance toward my cousin because it sounds like she’s off her rocker.
I think everyone else feels the same because they’re looking at her like her head’s spinning and she’s spitting up split-pea soup.
Except Snake. He’s smirking, almost laughing.
“As in Ver-uh Feral?”
The way my cousin pronounces it, very feral, I burst out laughing.
Heavy doesn’t chuckle. His laugh barrels through the entryway.
Grizz is smiling, though, not just smirking.
And Snake is chuckling.
“True class you have there, Eagle,” Vera counters and then turns on her heel and flounces away.
That’s when my stomach does its talking thing.
I look behind me. “Magic makes me hungry.”
“For food or for other things?” Snake asks, and I take the two steps toward him to lovingly punch him in the arm.
“For food, you idiot.”
“Liar,” Ryn shares.
I round on her.
Her hands go up. “What? I was just going to say that you’re always hungry. Why?” she asks, her voice innocent. “What did you think I was going to say?”
I shake my head at her.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, I’m on call all day and there’s always a kid who needs some schooling,” I say. “Find our limo, Ryn. I’m exhausted.”
“Don’t forget hungry,” she calls out as she goes to the valet and has him call up our limo.
I feel him come up next to me. He doesn’t say anything, just stands by my side. I glance up at him, now nervous about all I’ve said and done. We’re strangers, and yet it feels like he’s a part of me. But to claim him as I did when it could be months before he’s mine … if he even is mine … that was not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
“I don’t—”
“I must—”
We both start to speak at the same time, then I laugh. His eyes soften, as though he’s releasing some tension from his body.
“Aw, I love first conversations between future lovers,” Snake teases. “It’s always so awkward.”
“You’re a sadist,” Eagle tells him, and I think he means it as an insult but Snake doesn’t seem to mind. He just nods and uses his hands to tell us to keep talking.
Eagle turns back to me.
“I must apologize for my behavior yesterday evening and then earlier this evening as well. I have not been myself.”
“Who were you?” I ask. I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m just trying to understand.
He tilts his head, and I love the tilt because it reminds me of an eagle, and knowing what he is, makes the move that much more stunning.
“What do you mean?”
I blow out a breath. “There’s something between us,” I say. “But you’re a Have-not, I’m a Have, and you’ve proven to me a couple times that you’re exactly what I’ve always thought Have-nots are.”
“A Have-not?” he asks with curiosity.
“Please don’t ask,” my Aunt Hyacinth pleads.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you start.”
She throws her hands in the air. “I’m just warning you.”
I turn back to Eagle.
“It goes like this. Haves are the people who are poor but have everything good, the stuff that matters. Have-nots are the stuffy rich folk who make it look like they have it all, but they miss out on all the good things like love, kindness, and the true beauty in life. Then, there’s the third group, the clingers. They’re in between the Haves and the Have-nots, but they definitely want to be a Have-not.”
I see his jaw get harder through this and think maybe my aunt is right. I shouldn’t share. I should heed her warnings.
He takes a step back. “And what, pray tell from all of two meetings with me, makes you think I’m a Have-not when you just now, in there, told my father I have more than I’ll ever need from the men who are my real family?”
I see I’ve put my foot in my mouth.
“I didn’t—”
He puts a hand up.
“You’re a snob,” he declares.
I shut my mouth on whatever argument I’m about to give—because he’s right. I’m a total snob. Not because I’m wrong. The true Haves are the ones who have all the good things. But being rich doesn't make him a Have-not, just like me, being poor doesn’t make me a Have. It’s the people in our lives and the choices we make that turn us into Haves and Have-nots.
“Yes, I am,” I admit quietly. I’m lost in my head. It hurts to be there. It normally doesn’t, but it’s becoming clear now that as much as I’ve felt judged, I’ve also judged. Big time. And that doesn’t feel good. It feels totally shitty.
I take a step toward him. I’ve never been one to hold back an apology. I like to get the tough stuff out of the way. I hate feeling uncomfortable or out of sorts. Ironically, while not uncomfortable in the least, I definitely feel out of sorts with this man.
I take his hand. He lets me.
“I was a bitch,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all?” h
e asks.
I glance around and notice the guys are totally riveted by our conversation like a bunch of gossips. Oh, yeah, being in a band is going to be a blast.
I turn back to Eagle and look up at him.
“Uhhh, I’m sorry for being a bitch is kind of the gist.”
He reaches up to cover his mouth, and I release the sigh I’ve got bottled in my chest.
As I release it, I take his hand away from his mouth.
Then, I can’t help it. I lean into him and whisper. “You have the best smile I’ve ever seen.”
His smile falters.
“No, please. Don’t hide. We haven’t had a good start but it’s a start, and I want to know you, the real you, not the one who has had to live with the dickhead in that house and not the one who I made up in my head. You. The real Eagle …” My voice trails. “What’s your last name?”
“Ambustus,” he answers.
And it hits me.
“Wait, Eagle Ambustus as in Imperial Manius Ambustus Enterprises?” I ask.
He goes stiff, and I quickly backpedal. “I don’t care about your money,” I clarify.
“You’ve made that clear,” he shares, his voice again cold.
“Ugh,” I growl in exasperation. “Can we get past the money thing? I was a bitch. But it’s not that ... Your mom was Sarah Ambustus?” I ask.
It’s painful watching him pale.
“How do you …?”
“I started working at the Sarah Fitzwilliam House fifteen years ago. That was her maiden name, right? Fitzwilliam? I help run the House now,” I tell him.
His expression changes subtly, from one of pain to a mixture of sorrow and understanding.
The limo pulls up.
I don’t turn yet, even when Ryn opens the door and the driver moves to let me in.
“I’ve got meetings all day on Mondays and I do one-on-ones with the kids on Tuesdays. Wednesday,” I say, “come to your mom’s house.”
That sounds strange, I’m about to change my phrasing when he replies, his voice formal as it always is, “I’ll be there, Elizabeth.”
Grizz steps forward then and says, “I’d like to join.”
“Grizz Ambustus,” I reply with a smile. “Yes, she mentioned you both all the time. Her boys. Wow, I can’t believe I’m just remembering this. Small world.”