He brushes my compliments aside. “It’s tradition in my family that the men have one made for our future brides. I had it made a couple of weeks ago.”
“A little presumptuous,” I tease.
“I was hoping.” He clears his throat. “In any case, you could wear that under your clothes if you want. Then you won’t get so many questions. I’ll save the ring for another time.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help you fasten it on. The clasp is a bit tricky.” I turn around and lift my hair. His fingers lightly brush my neck sending chills down my spine. He fixes the clasp with a click and I drop my hair.
I face forward again. “How does it look?”
“On you,” he says, a gleam in his eyes, “everything looks lovely.”
“You exaggerate.”
“Not a bit.”
“What should I tell people about us?”
“What did you say to Mel?”
“I told her you worked for the government. Like the CIA. I didn’t give many details about how we met. I said we ran into each other.”
“I do work for a government. I’m on the Council of the Third Realm. It’s passed down from generation to generation. So you didn’t lie.”
“I still feel terrible. I haven’t ever kept details about my relationships from her before.” Although, even she doesn’t know the details of my childhood. Someday I’ll have to tell Monroe. My heart fills with dread. Very few people know about my aunt. She didn’t exactly care much for me.
Monroe moves closer. “If she’s as good a friend as you’ve said, she’ll forgive your silence and support you.”
The scent of sunshine mixed with desire overwhelms my senses, reminding me of all the delicious kisses he’s given me in my dreams. A shiver part anticipation, part thrill dances along my nerve-endings. How can a man I barely know be the embodiment of all my deepest fantasies? Caught between curiosity and fear, I dare to run my finger down his cheek. “You really are a prince of a guy.”
He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest. “Don’t reveal my secret. It’ll ruin my reputation.” He draws me closer. “I missed you.”
“Did you?”
“Bast makes poor company in comparison.”
The giggle dies in my throat as his lips find mine. I moan and he deepens the kiss as if he can’t get enough.
In his crushing embrace, my ribs press hard against my lungs and I’m forced to back off. “Enough,” I choke, “are you trying suffocate me?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”
He slowly regains control over himself and I wait for the end of the fireworks in my head.
“I was right,” he finally says.
“About what?”
His mouth quirks in amusement. “I once thought you were dangerous. This proves it.”
“I nearly die of suffocation and you’re blaming me?”
“Perhaps we should put aside kissing for a while, since it’s unsafe for both of us.”
“Speak for yourself,” I mutter.
He breaks into a roar of laughter and I hit him with one of the couch throw pillows. He ducks, putting his hands up.
“Cease,” he pleads between his chuckles, “I surrender.”
I struggle not to laugh. “You better.” I smack him one more time for good measure.
“Remind me,” he says, taking the pillow from my hand, “never to go against you. You don’t fight fair.” He tosses the pillow onto the recliner.
Under his gaze, tingles of pleasure spread through me. Reaching up, I trace my fingertips down his cheek. “Thanks for cheering me up.”
He draws me back into his embrace. “It is my pleasure to do whatever I can for you, my lioness.”
He believes in me. I’ve wished for someone who could believe in me. A person I could feel confident around. Perhaps with Monroe I can prove to myself my confidence isn’t only when I’m in front of my students, but other places, too. I toss him a grin. “Grr.”
He chuckles and begins tickling me. “Grr, indeed.”
Between giggles, I plead, “Stop! Please!”
“Surrender,” he says, “then I’ll stop.”
“After everything you put me through? Never.” I shriek as he continues tickling my ribs. “You talk about not fighting fair.” I try in vain to push his hands away. “What do you call this?” Another giggle bursts from my lips.
“Turnabout,” he says, “is fair play. Do you surrender?”
I stand and grab the throw pillow off the recliner and brandish it threateningly. “Why should I? First you complain I don’t fight fair, then you tickle me. I shouldn’t give in to a hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite? You wound me.” He throws himself backward on the couch clutching his chest.
I roll my eyes, then hold out my hand. Secretly, a part of me finds his dramatics cute. Maybe I decided to marry him because of my dreams and curiosity, but the little flip my heart does at his boyish expression makes me wonder if I could really fall in love with him. “How about a truce?”
He takes my hand. “Do me one favor.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t ever tell Bast about this. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“What will you give me in return?”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
I give him a sidelong glance. “Return one favor for another.”
“Name your price.”
“A kiss.”
“Yours.” He gently lowers his mouth onto mine. Far too soon he breaks our embrace. “I daren’t go further at the moment after what happened earlier.”
“Do you think I could see the Third Realm someday?”
“We’ll see. There are things I’ll have to do first. One, I must get your prom attire, two, I’ll meet with the Council.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Despite the fact that I’m on the Council, certain things rest in the other members’ hands.”
“Such as?”
“What they’ll decide regarding our relationship. I intend to marry you regardless.” A grin spreads across his features, then abruptly vanishes. “However, certain stipulations exist, which I can’t ignore. I’d rather not discuss those right now. Tomorrow the Council meets. Tonight, I enjoy your company.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“I had a rather large lunch. Feel free to have something, though.”
I head for the fridge. Selecting some leftover tuna salad and pita bread, I close the door and grab a glass of ice water. I bring my dinner to the table. Monroe pulls out a chair for me. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he answers and then sits across from me. “Is it good?”
“Yes. I got the recipe from a friend.”
When I’m done, Monroe holds out a hand. “Come, you’ve had a rough day. Let me ease your tension.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“A massage,” he says, “followed by a hot bath with bubbles. I promise not to peek,” he adds with a seductive smile.
“I’m not sure whether or not to trust you.”
“It’s sorely tempting, but I won’t.”
“How gallant of you,” I say sarcastically.
“A gentleman must always behaves nobly towards his lady.”
“Your tutor’s words?”
“No, my mother’s.”
I duck my head.
“What’s wrong?”
Memories of my own mother flash before my eyes. A hollow feeling enters my heart. “I’d rather not go into it. How about that massage instead?”
He starts to say something, then stops as he glances at my face. “Of course.”
He rubs my shoulders as my eyes close. I lean into the pressure of his hands. The weariness and stress overcome me and I feel myself getting drowsy.
Monroe chuckles softly and picks me up. I cuddle up against his chest, feeling as though I finally have come home. He carries me down the hall t
o my bedroom and sets me on the bed, tugging the covers over me.
“Sleep well, my love,” he whispers in my ear. Then, he’s gone.
I’m about to drop off to sleep when I jerk awake.
What will the Council say?
Chapter 15: Monroe
The Hall of Council doors loom before me. Trepidation washes over me. I hate Council meetings. However, it’s my duty to carry on the Dubay legacy, and maintain our position on the Council.
Resigned, I enter the cavernous foyer and push through the second set of doors into an enormous room. High, vaulted ceilings and thick, stone walls house a gigantic smooth granite table. I stifle a shiver. No matter the weather, the room is always cold. Even a suit jacket doesn’t keep out the chill and I wonder why we disbanded the use of ceremonial robes. At least we’d be warmer.
Despite the wretched location, everyone here has an equal vote. Every time we meet, a General is assigned for that session. This time the dubious honor falls upon Neru Vytale, the eldest member.
I find my seat and wait for the others to arrive.
The doors swing open, and Minuet Benay Randolph comes in. At eight months pregnant, she struggles to maneuver about the room. I pull out a chair for her. Even with the awkwardness, she maintains the trademark beauty of a siren, with long, shimmering platinum-blond hair, silvery eyes that change from blue to purple, and radiant pale skin.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Think nothing of it. You all right?”
“Except for the discomfort, yes.”
As General, Neru sits at the front of the room. Wrapped in thick robes of an elder Thirdling, he hunches over in his seat. I’m not deceived by his appearance. We’ve been acquainted for many years. He’s energetic and active. Also a flirt. Although he’s harmless for the most part, I’ll watch him carefully if he’s ever around Sasha.
My teeth grind when Lily enters. With catlike grace, she settles into her place at the table. By the Third Realm, she best keep her distance.
Curiosity replaces annoyance when Loralyn Xavier glides through the door and finds her seat next to me. She brushes back her white hair from her face and lifts her eyebrow regally in greeting. Again, I wonder if there is any credence to the rumors. Is she truly a sun-nymph?
There’s a whoosh as the doors burst open and Bast strolls in. He tosses me a grin and takes his seat.
The rest of the members file in and Neru calls the meeting to order. “Anyone have a matter of personal business for the Council?” His stare falls on me.
“Members of the esteemed Council of the Third Realm,” I begin. “I’ve a particular matter to present. In the First Realm, I met a woman named Sasha Brighton. I’ve asked her to marry me and she accepted.” Carefully I assess each member’s expression. “I ask the Council’s approval for me to join the Firstlings or for Sasha to become one of us.”
Murmurs fill the room and Bast’s grin widens. I shoot him a warning look.
Lily raises her hand.
“The General recognizes Lily Tygress.”
“I urge the Council to deny Monroe’s request. He shouldn’t marry outside our kind.”
“Interesting point,” Neru says. He turns to me. “Your answer, Lord Dubay?”
“The Council should remember the other instances of Firstling and Thirdling marriages.”
Minuet shifts nervously.
“Minuet Randolph is one such case. The other is the General’s grandson, Zeke Vytale.” I sit back down and throw Minuet an apologetic look. She’s been one of the few people in the Third Realm I respect. Plus, for a human male, John isn’t so bad.
“This is true,” Neru answers. “My grandson did marry a Firstling. Let’s hear Madame Randolph’s story. You may remain seated, my dear.”
Minuet looks down at the table and says softly, “Eight years ago John Randolph followed me here through a rift in the Third and First Realm boundaries. I requested the Council’s permission to wed him and make him one of us. It was granted.”
“You see?” I interject, feeling triumphant. “Minuet’s situation rendered a satisfactory end. We all know Neru’s grandson happily wed a Firstling and they live in her world with a child. Minuet bore a son seven years ago. She will have their second before long. If all these people can marry a Firstling and adjust with satisfactory results, why can’t I?”
Lily raises her hand again.
Neru nods and she stands.
“You forget,” she says, “you and I were meant to be each other’s mate.”
“That was always your desire, Lily. Not mine.”
More murmurs from the other members of the council. Lily’s jaw tightens. Warning bells go off in my head. She’s got something up her sleeve. The Creator help me prevent her from getting in the way of me and Sasha’s marriage.
Neru rises. “Monroe Dubay has made a reasonable request and we must vote. Lord Dubay will abstain. Those who approve his request, please indicate by a show of hands.”
Acting nonchalant, I watch the procedure. Inside, my heart rams in my chest.
Neru, Bast, Minuet, Quin Erone, and Loralyn raise their hands.
A small, trembling hand pokes up.
“The General recognizes Samson Wyki,” Neru promptly says.
“I’ve a question,” Samson begins, his beady, rodent-like eyes flit around the room. “What will be done about the thin line between the First and Third Realms? Obviously Firstlings and Thirdlings mating has become more common.”
Bast snaps to his feet. “For goodness’ sakes, Samson, this is only the third time! What’s your real problem, man? You afraid us predators will outnumber you further?”
Bravo, Bast. He hit the nail on the head. Samson’s species aren’t exactly comfortable around us hunters. Of course, his fears aren’t unfounded. He’s aware the regulations protect him and his family. Otherwise, he’d run from the room.
“N-no,” Samson stammers.
Bast’s teeth glitter in the light. Samson cringes. “Interesting.” Bast resumes his chair.
Samson cowers in his seat.
Neru raps on the table again. “No matter the motivation,” he says, “Samson presents a logical concern.”
“We’re not done voting,” Lily roars.
Neru shoots her a scathing look. “Very well. All those against Lord Dubay’s request?”
Lily, Samson, and Delton raise their hands. I glare at Delton. He ignores me.
Neru raps the table. “The majority has won the vote. Monroe Dubay, your request has been approved.” He gives me a probing look. “I expect the rest of the Council would like to know where you two intend to live.”
“We haven’t decided. I’m leaving it up to Miss Brighton.”
Neru nods. “All right. Now, for Samson Wyki’s question.”
Relief and elation washes over me. In spite of Lily’s protests, and Samson’s worries, the Council won’t stop me from marrying Sasha. As the realization sinks in, the rest of the members argue over whether to strengthen our borders or not. I vote against the strengthening of the borders, and the results end in a tie. I remind people if it hadn’t been for the thin boundary lines Minuet, Neru’s grandson, and myself wouldn’t have found our mates. Lily shouts over me and Neru almost breaks the gavel restoring order.
The meeting continues for another hour until Neru breaks in. “It seems,” he says once the room quiets, “we cannot make a decision at this time. We’ll reconvene at a later date. I appoint Loralyn Xavier as next meeting’s General.”
Loralyn stands. “I accept. The date of the next meeting will be announced soon.”
“Is that all?” Neru glances about the room. “I declare this meeting adjourned.” He raps one last time on the table.
I get up and stretch. Bast comes over and claps me on the back. “You don’t have the Council to worry about anymore.”
“Except perhaps Lily.”
Lily catches Bast’s expression and bares her teeth at him. He salutes her.
“She�
��s rather volatile, isn’t she?” he says.
“Unfortunately.”
“You never thought of marrying her, did you?”
“Bast, do you think I’ve lost my senses? The Creator forbid I marry the harpy!”
“She’s not a harpy, she’s a tigress,” he reminds me. “Although, I agree. I pity the poor clod she ropes into being her mate.”
“I pray he tames her.”
“Amen,” he answers. “What are you plans, now?”
“Can’t you guess?” I give him a nudge. “I’ll visit Sasha.”
Bast chuckles. “Tell her the good news, if it means anything to her. Perhaps she knows Neru’s grandson.”
“I doubt that. Texas is over a thousand miles from Massachusetts.”
“Yes, a significant distance.” He checks his watch. “I best return to Alexia. This meeting lasted longer than I thought it would.”
“I should punish you,” Minuet says as I approach her chair, “for calling me out. You know I quit seeking attention when I gave up being a siren.”
“My humblest apologies, madam.”
Her laugh echoes off the walls. “Oh, Monroe, it’s impossible to be truly angry with you. I understand why you did it. When I asked to marry John, you encouraged me.” She squeezes my hand. “You’re a good man, Monroe. I’ve always thought so.”
My lips quirk. “I’m a foul-tempered beast.”
She playfully swats my shoulder. “Not so much anymore. I think this Firstling has improved you. I’ll have to tell John. He’ll be happy to know he might not be the only Firstling here anymore.”
“Tell him he owes me a game of chess.”
“Will do. Take care of yourself, and Miss Brighton. No matter where you end up, it’ll be an adjustment for you both. Have faith. These things can work out.” She pushes through doors.
I follow her out. “Of course.”
She gives me a quick hug before she disappears.
Closing my own eyes, I return to my castle.
Upon entering my home, I enter my bedchambers to change out of my formal attire into something more comfortable.
Closing the door, I freeze. “Lily.” My blood simmers. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Waiting for you.”
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