by Tami Lund
Genevieve, despite her very best efforts, was never able to conceive again. She was never able to give her mate a son, an heir. By the time Olivia had passed ten summers, her mother had fallen into such a deep depression, the king became desperate to find anything, to do anything to pull her through.
Party planning, as it turned out, was the answer. Genevieve loved parties. She loved to plan them. She loved to gather Lightbearers together, to show off her chef’s fabulous creations, to flutter about the crowd like a butterfly, ensuring everyone was happy and pleased with the event.
Initially, the need to plan parties was a substitute for her need to bear more children. Soon, however, party planning became her outlet for anything and everything. Every time she felt stress about something, anything, she planned a party.
There had been a great deal of stress in Genevieve’s life over the course of the last few days. Shifters in the coterie. Her daughter nearly dying, due to some freak accident that involved guards and arrows. Sander’s stress spilled over to her, as well. They’d been mated a very long time, and while their relationship had been arranged, Genevieve had fallen in love with the man. She sensed it when he was unhappy, unsatisfied, worried, frustrated.
Sander was certainly stressed, if he was drunk on faery wine before noon. He’d burst into their chamber a short time ago, and insisted that she put on a dinner party tonight. Genevieve had been so excited—two parties over the course of three days!—that she hadn’t even asked for a reason. She’d simply donned a dress and rushed down to the kitchens to discuss the menu with Carley.
She then tracked down her niece, Cecilia—that child was always at the beach house—and gave her the list of invitees, and then sent her to inform them of the start time of the party. That was when it occurred to her that a side of fresh green beans, sautéed with tiny sweet onions and fresh garlic would be quite divine with the main entrée she’d selected. She immediately changed direction and headed to the garden, to see for herself that there were enough ripe beans, before making her way to the kitchen to inform Carley that she’d slightly altered the menu.
Before she made her way to the patch of bean plants, she heard the voices, and recognized them as children’s voices. Curious as to who had slipped into the royal gardens this time, Genevieve made her way toward the sound. The closer she drew, the more apparent it became that the children were not playing nicely together. In fact, she distinctly heard someone crying. Alarmed, Genevieve lifted her skirts and hurried to interfere.
She discovered a small group of Lightbearer children—she recognized every single one of them—surrounding another child, a tiny thing with dark hair and big, pale blue eyes. Those eyes were full of tears, and she was sobbing, flinching every now and then as another child hurled an insult at her.
Genevieve had not yet seen the shifters that she’d heard had infiltrated the coterie. Sander hadn’t wanted to cause her undue stress by subjecting her to the experience. As she looked upon the poor, helpless dark-headed child, she wondered what in the world her mate was thinking. Other than the fact that she had darker hair and a slightly darker complexion than most Lightbearers, and that she did not carry a faint glow of magic about her, this child looked as harmless as any of the hundreds of other children within the coterie.
“Children,” she barked, and all six jumped and turned toward the sound of her voice. “What do you think you are doing?” she asked sternly, giving each of the young Lightbearers a good glare.
“She’s a shifter,” one of them said, pointing at the crying child.
“And you are very mean to our guests,” Genevieve admonished.
The boy’s eyes grew large. Genevieve motioned at the little shifter. “This child is a guest of your king. You are insulting your king by insulting this child. You should be treating her with the utmost respect. I am highly disappointed in each and every one of you.”
All five looked abashed.
“Run along,” she commanded. “And inform your parents that the queen caught you doing something bad, and that they should punish you. If you do not, I shall tell them myself, and instruct them to punish you twice as much as they would otherwise.”
None of the children hesitated. They all turned tail and ran, as fast as they could, toward the garden gate. Genevieve hoped they did not inadvertently hurtle themselves down the stairs as they clamored down to their respective cottages, which were all located at the base of the cliff upon which the beach house was situated.
“Come here, child,” she commanded the quivering youngling. “I will not harm you.”
Some Lightbearer at some point had been nice to the child, because she literally threw herself into Genevieve’s arms, buried her face into Genevieve’s shoulder, and sobbed—hopefully with relief—as she clung to the queen.
Genevieve sighed and wrapped her arms around the little girl, as every single one of her not-nearly-utilized-enough mothering instincts kicked into gear.
* * * *
Tanner barely lifted his arm to knock on the chamber door when it was flung open, and a harried looking Lisa stood there, a wild look in her eye and her youngest pup cradled against her shoulder.
“Sofia is gone,” she said without preamble.
Tanner’s pack master instincts automatically kicked into gear, not based on her words as much as her demeanor. “When was the last time you saw her?” he demanded.
Lisa waved in an agitated way. “I don’t know. Earlier this morning. She wakes up at the crack of dawn because of all of these stupid windows,” she complained. “Little Freddy had just fallen back asleep after nursing, and I wanted to sleep with him, so I told her not to disturb me. I guess she left the room. I don’t know,” she repeated.
Tanner turned and sniffed the air, searching for Sofia’s scent among all the Lightbearer magic hanging in the air. He found it immediately and headed down the hall, with Lisa trailing in his wake. Her scent led him to the kitchens, where there were twenty Lightbearers, working diligently on preparing what looked and smelled like a ridiculously lavish feast. Inwardly, Tanner cursed. Sander clearly hadn’t heeded his advice.
As soon as he and Lisa stepped into the main portion of the series of rooms that comprised the kitchens, all activity ceased, and all but one of the Lightbearers rushed to the far side of the room, as far away from the shifters as they could get. The only one who remained was the head cook, a young woman named Carley, who did not appear to be frightened of them in the least.
“Cecilia and I are distantly related,” she explained. “She told me all about you, and how you saved Olivia from being killed.”
Tanner gave the explanation the briefest acknowledgement, and then inquired about Sofia. Carley smiled brightly.
“She’s adorable,” she gushed. “Such a sweet thing. With a large appetite for such a youngling. She ate three whole sausage and cherry biscuits.”
“She loves cherries,” Lisa said in a bemused way.
“Maybe she went out to the gardens,” Carley suggested. “There is a small orchard out there, and the cherries are perfectly ripe right now. If the queen hadn’t directed me to immediately begin planning this dinner party, we would be out there picking them even as we speak.”
Out near the cherry trees, Tanner picked up Sofia’s scent, as well as a hodgepodge of Lightbearer scents, as if there had been a large group of them. He frowned and looked around, but the orchard was empty.
“Where did she go?” Lisa demanded.
He walked toward the nearest door leading into the beach house. Her scent was still there, although faintly. “I’m not sure,” he replied, and he pulled open the door and let his nose lead the way. It wasn’t Sofia’s scent he was following, though. It was a Lightbearer scent, one that was oddly familiar to him, even though he was certain he’d never smelled it before.
His nose led him to the king and queen’s private chambers.
“What in the world?” Lisa asked, as they stood outside the door, and Tanner lifted his arm a
nd knocked.
“No idea,” he replied. “But this is where the trail ends.”
A handsome blonde woman with a stature that practically screamed queen pulled open the door and gave them a startled look before smiling politely.
“Yes?”
Tanner cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair. This was Olivia’s mother, he knew without asking. Besides the fact that she was the most elegant and regal woman he’d ever met in his life, she bore a strong resemblance to Olivia. He’d already alienated Olivia’s father. He did not want to do the same to her mother, yet he was positive Sofia had at least been here, if she wasn’t still in the queen’s presence. He introduced himself and Lisa and the pup.
Just as soon as her gaze fell onto the pup, the queen’s eyes softened, and a bemused smile stole across her face. “He is just a newborn,” she said on a sigh. “May I hold him?” She looked hopeful.
Lisa gave her a startled look before turning to Tanner, as if seeking an answer. Tanner shrugged. It was Lisa’s pup, not his. She hesitated, but then lifted the pup off her shoulder and offered him to the queen. The woman gently cradled the pup as if he were the most fragile and precious child in the world. He blinked big black eyes up at her as she cooed and murmured and rocked him.
“He smiled at me,” the queen gasped.
“It’s probably gas,” Lisa replied.
The queen laughed. “I had no idea shifter younglings were so adorable. I assume Sofia must be yours as well? She told me she has a baby brother who cries all night.”
“You met Sofia? Do you know where she is?”
“I certainly do,” the queen responded, and she pushed open the door. “Come in,” she invited, and Tanner and Lisa walked into the opulent royal chambers.
Sofia sat at a frilly vanity, which was full of all sorts of girly stuff: jewelry and makeup and scarves and the like. She wore makeup on her face, bright pink paint on her nails, and a matching pink evening gown that looked as if it had been tailored specifically for her. It was entirely possible it had, courtesy of Lightbearer magic.
“Hi Momma,” the little girl greeted them. “Grandma Gigi says I get to go to a party tonight. She even made me a dress. Isn’t it pretty? I’ve never worn a dress like this before.”
Chapter 21
He watched her dress for the party. It was quite possibly one of the most erotic moments of her life, and he didn’t even touch her, not at first. He just watched her with those hungry eyes, tracking her as she walked to the armoire to pull out an appropriate dress for the evening, as she slipped the silken robe over her shoulders and then pulled the gown over her head. Following her as she walked over to sit before the vanity to add enhancing paints to her face, and then when she stood before the looking glass and smoothed wrinkles from the dress.
That was when he finally climbed off the bed and stalked toward her, like a predatory cat tracking its prey. A shiver of excitement zipped through her body. Her normally sedate glow brightened. Tanner’s smile was possessive.
“That whole little display was all for my benefit, wasn’t it?” he asked as he stepped up behind her and brushed a perfectly coifed curl off her shoulder. A servant had been there earlier, to fix her hair, and Tanner had watched from where he sat in the middle of the bed, curled up in the form of a common housecat. If the servant questioned the fact that the princess had suddenly adopted a cat, she did not mention it.
Olivia affected a look of surprise. “Display? I was simply getting dressed for the party,” she teased.
He watched her through the looking glass, watched as his hands slid down her back and then back up again to cup her breasts.
“I want to watch while I take you.”
Olivia’s knees buckled. She was vaguely surprised she didn’t have an orgasm right there on the spot. Did the man have any idea how damned sexy he was?
Tanner pulled her to him and then slowly dropped to his knees. She felt the softness of the rug against her knees and realized he’d managed to pull her dress up to her waist. She could feel his erection, hard and thick and pressing against her backside. She was absolutely certain she’d never wanted anything in her life as badly as she wanted Tanner at that moment.
She parted her legs, eager for his touch. But his fingers only lightly danced across the juncture of her thighs and then began meandering up her body again. She made a small noise of protest and felt Tanner’s smile as he nuzzled her ear.
“Impatient?” he murmured huskily.
She wiggled her hips. “We have to be downstairs in less than an hour.”
“Plenty of time.” His hand covered her breast then, and any protest she intended to make was drowned in a moan of pleasure.
He took his time, watching through the looking glass as his hands and mouth explored. It was a sweet, sweet torture. She wanted it to go on forever, as earnestly as she wanted him to end it and bring her to release—now, now, now. Her body was a rubber band, twisted so tightly she was certain she would snap.
“Tanner,” she begged. “Please.”
She needed him inside her. She needed to feel him, all of him, completely and fully. She started turn to face him, so that she could take the situation in hand, so to speak, but Tanner wrapped his arm around her waist and held her securely.
“I’m going to explode,” she complained.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” he assured her, and finally, finally, she felt his erection, unconfined by clothing, nudging at her backside. She arched against him, pressing against him, silently begging, since saying it out loud wasn’t working.
His hand slipped between them and thought, finally. He wrapped the other arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest. His lips were near her ear again, and he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine, Olivia.”
“Oh lights, yes,” she responded, the anticipation ratcheting up yet another notch as he splayed one hand on her stomach and held her firmly against him, while he used the other to maneuver himself into her from behind. She was mindless, desperate, insane. Every nerve ending was focused on that crucial moment, her imminent orgasm. She was certain she would explode the second he pressed into her.
“Say it,” he said more urgently. The tip of his penis was there, right there. She could feel it. All she had to do was press backward —
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commanded again, holding her steady with his hand on her stomach, refusing to take that next step. There was a note of urgency in his voice.
“Mine,” Olivia finally ground out impatiently. “I mean, yours. I’m yours. Tanner, please!”
“Oh yeah,” he muttered, and then he did it, surged into her, impaling her, filling her ... completing her. She arched, reached around and grabbed his hair with one hand, while she grabbed his thigh with the other, digging her nails into his flesh. Just as she predicted, she raced almost immediately into an orgasm. She gave a little shout and Tanner picked up the pace, as he said, “Oh damn,” and began pressing into her, faster, harder, urgently, as her orgasm dragged on and on and his quickly welled, until he too gave a shout and followed her over the edge.
Then he collapsed onto the rug, dragging her down next to him. She lay there, her back to him, still connected, her heart galloping away like a herd of wild horses. She would have smiled at the animal analogy if she weren’t so fully aware of what they’d done.
They’d just mated.
Chapter 22
The party was a smashing success, according to Olivia.
She’d whispered it into his ear at one point, and it had hardly registered what she said, because all he wanted to do was haul her back upstairs and couple with her again. The fact that he’d taken such a monumental step and mated with her hadn’t tamped his desire, hadn’t frightened him, hadn’t caused any negative emotions whatsoever. In fact, he could argue that he felt better at the moment than he ever had in his adult life.
He had a mate. Not just any mate, but a Lightbearer princess mate. That aside
, he was mated to Olivia, the most beautiful, wonderful, desirable woman in all the various magical worlds. Taking a mate had turned him into a whimsical idiot, but at the moment he couldn’t be bothered to care.
She managed to keep him at her side, or at least nearby, for most of the party, which pleased him. He wasn’t quite of a mind to let her go just yet. He was still reveling in the aftershock of what they’d done. He needed her touch, needed to see her, wanted to see the content smile on her face, to reassure himself she was perfectly happy with their decision as well.
“I’m not sure we should have done that,” he’d murmured earlier, up in her room, as they lay like spoons on the rug in front of the looking glass, even though he was without a doubt positive it was the right decision.
Olivia was meant to be his mate, he knew that now, just as he knew it when he knelt behind her on that rug. The timing was probably not the best, because he knew Olivia wanted to speak with her parents first, get their blessing, have confidence that her father would not disown her or the children Tanner intended for them to bear together.
“I am,” she’d said with such conviction, his cock had immediately begun to swell again. Nothing quite as heady as your woman telling you she was pleased with your actions.
They hadn’t had a chance for a repeat performance, because Olivia rolled away from him and climbed to her feet and immediately set about repairing the damage they’d done to her hair, her dress, her face. But she’d done it with a silly, pleased smile on her face, so he knew she too wished they could forgo the party and simply lounge in bed for the rest of the evening.
“What about this glow?” he asked before they left the bedchamber. They were both glowing as if they were Roman candles on the Fourth of July. It was the greatest, most intense glow since he started sleeping with her.