Royal Mate

by Juniper Hart

  Lilith looked back at Night Star’s body. “Think anyone heard the explosions?’

  “I will be indescribably furious if nobody comes after that. My men will definitely be able to pinpoint our location now.”

  “That’s a good point, actually.”

  Lilith kept eying the stalactites. Most of them had come down with the smiley face balls of death. The few that had stayed were dangerously close to breaking free and plummeting. It would be tragic if Storm and Lilith survived everything that they had only to get mauled by nature.

  “Hey!” called someone. “Sir! Sir, are you down there?”

  Lilith wasn’t sure how she felt about getting rescued. She was ready to get away from Night Star. She wasn’t quite ready to leave Storm yet.

  I’ll give him a shot, she decided.

  10

  Lilith anticipated seeing the famed residence of the Keeper of the Wind. No Slayer had ever found it, but if the legends were true, it was magnificent.

  Storm’s guards had shifted into their dragon forms to carry them home. Storm’s wing was still torn, so he also had to be flown home by his men.

  The rumors didn’t do the house justice. Storm’s residence was built entirely from stone and resembled a Gothic Cathedral with large pointed arches and flying buttresses.

  “How can you possibly need that much space?” asked Lilith as they approached his home.

  “I rule a kingdom of dragons, Lilith. I’ve spent thousands of years building this.”

  He led her through the castle and up to a luxurious wing that looked like it had been designed for her. The hallways were lined with impressionist paintings from Claude Monet and Edgar Degas. They couldn’t be originals though, could they?

  As if Storm heard her thoughts, he answered. “They’re originals. I knew you loved these artists.”

  “How?”

  “I told you. I had dreams about you. I knew you’d be coming.”

  Storm stopped at a large set of French doors. “Your quarters, my lady,” Storm said as he motioned for her to go inside the room.

  Stunning wasn’t the right word. Magnificent? It didn’t matter. The room was perfect.

  A beautiful stone fireplace lined one wall, and a large, four-poster bed looked like it was calling her name. The room was decorated in a dark green, which had been her favorite color since she was child. A large window overlooked a beautiful, snow-capped mountain range. She felt like she was finally in a place where she belonged.

  Storm walked over to a teak dresser ornately carved with roses and dragons. He motioned for Lilith to come near the dresser as he opened the top drawer. Lilith peeked inside and found a drawer full of shoe socks, size small.

  “You really do know me better than I thought,” she said with a smile.

  “I want you to be happy here if you choose to stay. You will have your own space as we get to know each other, so you don’t feel any pressure.”

  Lilith leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Storm placed his hand over the area where she had kissed as if he wanted to hold onto the moment forever.

  “I am going to leave and give you some space. A healer will be here in just a few minutes to check on your injuries.” He pointed to the far side of the room, “There’s a bathroom over there. You will find everything you need.” Then he pointed to the opposite side of the room to the open door of a walk-in closet that looked like it was bigger than her whole apartment. “You can find clothes, pajamas, and everything else you need in there.”

  The healer was able to give Lilith a balm to heal her wounds and wrapped a bandage around her ribs, which seemed to heal them. It wasn’t instantaneous, but the pain subsided substantially.

  The shower was exactly what she needed, and she almost felt like herself again. She wrapped herself in the plush terrycloth towels and made her way out of the bathroom to find some pajamas in her bigger-than-life closet.

  As she walked back into the bedroom, she saw Storm sitting on the edge of her bed. He had evidently showered and wore a black track suit.

  As soon as he laid eyes on her, he bit down on his lower lip. “Wow. You look stunning.”

  “Thanks,” she answered, feeling self-conscious that she was only wearing a towel.

  “Do you want to meet me downstairs? Or I can come back when you’re dressed?”

  Lilith thought for a moment, but she definitely wanted him to stay. She dropped the towel and it slid down her body before landing on the floor, leaving her naked before his lustful eyes.

  In a flash, Storm rushed over to her, picked her up, and laid her on the bed before kissing her with such intensity she could hardy catch her breath.

  Immediately, a burst of sensation traveled down to her core, making the area between Lilith’s legs glisten with her nectar.

  He pulled away and stared at her with eyes that were gentle and full of kindness, yet had an animalistic passion behind them. She grabbed his face between the palms of her hands and pulled his lips to hers once again.

  Not wanting clothes to get in her way, she peeled off his hoodie and lifted his t-shirt up and over his head. His skin felt warm against hers, and the fire between them had been ignited. There was no turning back.

  Storm kissed her neck, then slowly trailed kisses down to her chest. Taking an erect nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirled around the pink bud making Lilith moan out loud. Storm kissed lower and lower until his teeth grazed her inner thigh.

  Grabbing the sheets in both hands, she inhaled deeply as Storm grabbed both hips and moved her center of femininity closer to his eager mouth. The shockwaves of ecstasy pulsed through her body as she writhed beneath his touch.

  She felt the pressure building and building as he expertly applied pressure to her most sensitive spot, until with one quick movement, Storm ripped off his pants and thrust into her, letting out a primal growl.

  His huge erection moved in and out of her over and over as their bodies rocked back and forth in a primal dance.

  She couldn’t take it anymore as she felt herself let go and shudder around him. Storm’s hot juices shot into her as he released simultaneously.

  He rolled off her, and she placed her head on his chest while nuzzling closer to him.

  “That was amazing,” she confided, stroking his ego. She meant it.

  “It was even better than my dream,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.

  Lilith never believed in fate or love at first sight. She did however believe that she never wanted to be with another man—or beast—ever again. Storm was hers, and she liked the feeling that she was his.

  “I know that you said we’d be together for eternity, but you have to realize, I will grow old. Will you still want me when my skin sags and I start losing my memory?”

  “I’ll always want to be with you,” he said, stroking her cheek. “But if you decide to stay and start a family with me, that’s when you’ll become immortal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If we choose to have a baby, your body will take on a dragon form so you can carry my child. That’s when you will take on your immortal form.”

  The thought scared her, frightened her, and excited her at the same time. The Slayer tattoo between her should blades stopped tingling, and Lilith knew that the charmed ink had disappeared, releasing her of all ties to the Slayer world.

  “I think you should stay here in my room,” Lilith said.

  “I would love to stay with you tonight,” Storm said.

  “Not tonight,” answered Lilith. “Forever.”

  THE END

  Part IV

  Shifter Scandal

  By Juniper Hart

  Prologue

  How can a city of this magnitude be so suffocating?

  The blackness of the subway tunnels did nothing to calm her racing heart. She willed herself to stare straight ahead as if the slightest movement would attract attention. She hoped her dark sunglasses and headscarf would protect her from
potential scrutiny, but she had low hopes.

  She was Gabriella Medina, after all. Her face would be recognized from Maine to Alaska and everywhere in between. There was not a place on earth where her smoldering eyes would not spark a second glance. For the first time in her twenty-four years of life, she rued her sensational good looks. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide.

  How could I have let this happen? I don’t know what to do, she told herself mournfully. How did this get so far?

  It was a question she had asked herself many times over the past weeks, but the answer did not manifest itself easily. She had no part in what had happened, not really. She wished she had been more outspoken, though, louder in her protest. It was too late now; it had escalated beyond control, and all Gabby could think to do was run.

  This will blow over eventually, she reasoned, but the words were little comfort to a girl who wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. There must be somewhere I can go in the meantime.

  Slowly, she lowered her too-large glasses and peered about the cesspool that was the A train heading into Manhattan. Her wide, chocolate eyes scanned the torn advertisements above the doors, hoping for inspiration.

  Eyeglass store, therapist hotline, Mr. Chang’s Chinese and Wings… Oh!

  Forgetting her need for anonymity, Gabriella fully pulled the glasses from her face and scooted toward the rear of the car, where an ad had caught her attention.

  She stood before a drunk homeless man and a tightly wound businessman, staring in awe at the glorious colors of the picture before her: an endless blue contrast against a grassy sea of emerald green while horses roamed about with mountains framing the shot.

  “How can you have any worries in big sky country?” the caption read. A slow smiled formed on Gabriella’s generous mouth and she nodded agreeably.

  Perfect, she thought, exhaling slowly.

  “Hey! Aren’t you Gabriella Medina?” the homeless man demanded, jarring her from her reverie.

  Gabriella eyed him suspiciously. He was the last person she would have expected to recognize her, but within a second, she knew why he had. A newspaper lay open on the seat beside him, her picture in black and white accompanied by a full-length article.

  She shook her head quickly, covering her face again and backing away from the man, turning her head so her silken chestnut strands covered her partially.

  “No,” she muttered. “You’re confusing me with someone else.”

  The homeless man pointed, his voice raising an octave as he waved his finger in excitement.

  “Yeah! Yeah, you are! You’re the chick who’s having an affair with the mayor!”

  Color draining from her face, Gabriella watched as the entire car turned to stare at her, their mouths agape. The train began to slow at Cathedral Parkway, and a din erupted as people reached for their cell phones and iPads to document their encounter with the fallen woman in their midst. Without hesitation, Gabriella bolted onto the crowded platform as soon as the doors slid open.

  I have to get out of New York, she thought, hyperventilating as she rushed toward the surface of the city. She shoved the glasses back onto her face, willing herself not to cry.

  It was the same thought that had crossed her mind dozens of times since the scandal had emerged, but this time was different. This time she had a plan; she was going to the Treasure State.

  I will lay low and stay out of trouble, wait for everything to settle for a while. Then I will return to civilization. My only problem will be not dying of boredom in the middle of nowhere. After all, what the hell can happen in Montana?

  1

  “Yes Mrs. Giberson, I understand your complaint. You have the same one every week.”

  The raised pitch of Mrs. Giberson’s voice could be heard through the police station, and the officers exchanged a bemused grin as Sheriff Cameron Lapin rolled his cerulean blue eyes skyward, his face pained as he jolted the phone from his ear to keep from being deafened by the irate neighbor.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the sheriff conceded. “I know what you think you saw, but—”

  He listened as the old woman continued to howl in his ear as the other men watched in amusement. It was always the same complaint from Mrs. Giberson: coyotes were on her property, scaring and eating her chickens.

  “I will have an officer investigate as soon as one becomes available,” Cameron promised, hanging up the phone with a sigh. He peered around the room at the five idle policemen, and they all promptly averted their eyes.

  “Who’s up?” Cameron demanded. A complete silence fell over in the room. “Come on, ladies, don’t be shy.”

  “I went last time,” one officer said quickly, and his words were met with a round of grunts.

  “Sure you did,” another officer murmured, knowing the deputy’s aptitude for dismissing what he considered to be worthless calls.

  “Fine. Brewer, you go. Take Collins with you. After you’re done with Mrs. Giberson, head up Vaughan Road and keep an eye out for the Potter’s renegade horse. Someone said they saw him heading toward Emerson Junction.”

  Officer Brewer stifled a sigh but did not object, gesturing for the rookie to follow. James Collins jumped eagerly from his chair, happy to make an impression with his superiors. He had only been on the force for three months and was still trying to prove himself.

  The novelty will wear off, the sheriff thought cynically. When he realizes that Great Falls is boring as sin, he’ll stop looking for excitement.

  Cameron could barely remember what it was like to be a rookie. Was I ever really excited about this job? Not likely, he thought. Even if he had been, it had obviously not lasted long.

  “Brewer!” Cameron called before the men disappeared from the building. The seasoned cop turned to look at the sheriff, barely shielding the displeasure from his eyes.

  “Yeah?” answered Brewer.

  “Do me a favor and swing by Angelstone Nurseries and see if they have any Monkshood. Maybe Mrs. Giberson would also like some for her farm.”

  The men stared at one another for a long while. Cameron noticed the other officers trying to read his non-verbal communication to Brewer. Of course they had never been able to understand the undercurrent flowing between them.

  Brewer nodded almost unperceivably and left without a word.

  “What else is on the books for today?” another officer asked.

  Cameron shook his dark head, his perfect crew cut not shifting by the move.

  “Well then,” the officer said, sitting back and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just another day at the office.”

  “Would it kill you to patrol the town?” the sheriff asked, scowling. “At least pretend to do some work around here?”

  The officer’s mouth became a fine line of defiance, but he slowly rose to his feet. Cameron Lapin’s temper was infamous, and the officer clearly wanted to stay on his good side.

  Cameron eyed the remaining officers as they sauntered out. No words were exchanged and he smirked slightly in his silent win.

  He had been the sheriff of the small town of Great Falls, Montana for ten years. It was more or less a desk job, but upper management had its perks. Telling people what to do was one of Cameron’s strongest qualities.

  It was not his fault that his six-foot four, two hundred-twenty-five-pound frame inspired awe and submission. He relished in the fact that people cowered in his presence.

  The phone on his desk rang again, eliciting a sigh from him. It was shaping up to be a busy day—two phone calls before nine o’clock in the morning.

  Damn, it’s almost like the big city in here, he thought sarcastically.

  “Great Falls Police Department,” Cameron answered the phone.

  “Uh, sheriff?” An uncertain man’s voice flittered into his ear, and Cameron tried to place it. It didn’t instantly register.

  “Yes, this is Sheriff Lapin,” he answered. “Who is this?”

  Suddenly, he could hear the shrill voice of a woman yel
ling in the background.

  “It’s Bob Jacobs,” the man said. Cameron recognized him now: he was the owner of a grocery store. The phone became muffled, but he could hear Bob telling the woman to calm down.

  “Bob?” he called. “Hello? Is everything all right?”

  A moment later, Bob returned on the line.

  “Yeah, listen, I just got into a car accident on Second Street, across from Gibson Park, with this broad. The woman is hysterical and turning purple.”

  “I am not turning purple, you idiot!” came the screeching response.

  I wonder if she’s related to Mrs. Giberson, Cameron thought. Same wretched pitch of voice.

  “Is anyone hurt, Bob?” he asked, reaching for his radio and speaking into it. “Car 112, come in.”

  “No,” Bob replied. “But our vehicles are damaged pretty bad and we’re blocking traffic.”

  “Get off the street and wait for help,” Cameron instructed. “We’ll be there soon.”

  He replaced the phone and waited for his officers in the field to respond.

  “Car 112,” an officer called back through the radio.

  “What is your location?” the sheriff asked.

  “Eighth and Willmont Road.”

  Cameron glanced at the clock in surprise. How fast was he driving? He didn’t have time to worry about the officer’s infractions. Cameron was much closer to the scene of the accident than anyone else. He jumped up from the table and called out to Jeannie at the front desk.

  “You’re on dispatch, Jeannie,” he told her, grabbing the keys to his car. “Call out a couple tow trucks to Second Street across from Gibson Park. There’s been an accident.”

  “You got it, boss,” the amiable redhead replied, winking flirtatiously at him.

  A few years back, they had shared a night or two of drunken passion, but it had fizzled as quickly as it had begun. The novelty of an inter-office romance caused more problems than it was worth. That was fine with Cameron; he had neither the time nor the interest in a relationship. He was a lone wolf. But that didn’t stop him and Jeannie from remaining friends and continuing with the sexual banter. Sometimes Cameron wondered if he was missing out on something by dismissing the women he briefly dated, but his common sense overrode his moments of weakness.