"Then that is what you will do," Alfred said. "You'll be the most progressive queen in history."
Oscar glowed with joy, and baby Aiden bounced in his arms, gurgling and giggling. Oscar nuzzled his tiny little nose, chuckling right along with him. Oh, how much he'd missed over the last year. How much he had to make up for.
AN AWKWARD HUSH FELL over the table as Oscar and Alfred took their seats. It had been an hour since Oscar had left his four relatives alone in the drawing room, and patchy cheeks and gleaming eyes revealed how that hour had been spent. Octavia's face was set to a hard neutral, but Oscar could see the muscle in her jaw jump every time she glanced at Ursula or Mrs. Winters. Mrs. Winters, to her credit, was beginning to look worried. Whether it was due to concern about her grandson's safety or the sense that her plan was unraveling, Oscar couldn't be sure. But when he'd dropped Aiden off with Helga in the kitchen, she had been in the process of regaling the cooks with stories about the two women, stories which painted them as criminally insane. He was sure she was exaggerating... but only a little. His mother and sister had never been the most down-to-earth people, and they would routinely fly into furies when the world didn't work the way they thought it should.
"How are the tests coming?" Mrs. Winters asked between bites.
"Progressing nicely," Alfred told her with a warm smile. "The physician should be finished with him by the time we're done here."
Mrs. Winters nodded sharply and nibbled at a melon ball.
"So, your highness," Ursula said, leaning toward the prince and batting her eyes. "How long do I have to woo you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I understand that you're obligated to stick with... that... mess... but if you just so happened to fall in love with someone else beforehand...?"
"My dear," Alfred said, patting her hand. "You're a... lovely person. But a female queen? What a tired fashion. It's been done. The kingdom needs someone new and exciting, like your brother."
"Exciting?" she scoffed. "He's never done anything but read books! What's so exciting about that?"
Alfred beckoned her closer and whispered in her ear. She turned bright red and promptly returned to her seat to stare straight ahead and occupy her mouth with food. Oscar sent Alfred an inquisitive look, and Alfred just shook his head. The luncheon dragged on interminably, with Gina and Alfred occasionally trying to start a conversation, and the rest of the table too nervous or upset to engage. The tension was finally alleviated by Burges sudden entrance. He moved to the head of the table to whisper directly into Prince Alfred's ear. A grin spread across Alfred's face, and he began to laugh uproariously.
"Very well, Burges," Alfred gasped, wiping a tear from his eye. "Ready a pair of rooms and extend the offer to our guest."
"Right away, sire," Burges said, bowing and backing out of the room.
"What did he say?" Oscar asked.
"One moment, love. I want to savor this."
His eyes sparkling with mischief, Alfred stood and lifted his glass.
"A toast!" he said. "To love, family, and short-sighted money-grabbing lunatics."
All at the table froze in shock, staring at the prince with open mouths. He grinned and drank, careless to the fact that no one had joined him.
"Mrs. Winters, Ms. Winters," he said when he'd finished. "You will receive the child support you pursued three months ago, along with a note of thanks for caring for the child for the year. Fortunately, his birth parent has been discovered and, in a fantastic turn of events the birth parent did not, in fact, elope with a rich widow. Nor did he die at sea. I will ensure that you are paid in full from my own coffers, and will have your request withdrawn from my cousin's office of affairs. If that was all you came for, I wish you an uneventful trip back home."
"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Winters snapped. "You should pay us for our silence, not for babysitting the brat!"
"Frankly, madam, I could not give a rat's tiny brown shit about your silence," Alfred said, gleefully. "When—yes when, poor Ursula—I marry Oscar, I will legally become Aiden's second parent. Seeing as the two of you made the mistake of registering Aiden under Oscar's full name, and then made the subsequent mistake of pursuing support from the king with that grand work of fiction, you haven't a leg to stand on."
Mrs. Winters closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Ursula examined her fingernails intently. Silence thickened and heated, vibrating the room with Mrs. Winters' unspoken fury.
"Ursula," she said, quietly, though her voice resonated with thunder.
"Yes, mother?" Ursula said, weakly.
"Why... in God's name... were you pursuing support?"
"I... I just wanted enough to have nice things. I didn't have the baby; I didn't see why I had to live like a teenage mother when it wasn't even my fault."
"We had a plan, Ursula."
"But it was taking forever! I was mortified to be seen in public; everybody thought I'd thrown my life away. I couldn't get so much as a beta to acknowledge my existence. I needed something! He ruined my life, and he owed me!"
Rage darkened Mrs. Winters' face, but she kept her tongue civil.
"Will Helga be needing a ride back?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"No, we will take care of her," Alfred assured the miserable woman.
"Very well. Ursula, come."
"But mother, I—"
"Don't have what it takes to seduce an alpha prince, girl, now move!"
Ursula pouted and glared, throwing her silverware down with a ringing clatter. Ursula's whining echoed back to them as Mrs. Winters dragged her from the palace.
"Wait," Oscar asked. "What just happened?"
"You got your baby back!" Octavia squealed, clapping her hands. "And all because your sister saw some easy money and couldn't help herself."
"So Aiden's mine? Legally mine?"
"Legally, biologically, and in every other way that matters," Gina said, squeezing his hand.
Happiness bubbled through Oscar's soul, bursting out of his mouth in glorious peals of laughter.
Chapter 16
The next few days were a flurry of activity. The palace phone rang constantly as the populace demanded answers to the various contradicting rumors which were flying through the towns as quickly as tongues could flap. The nursery and Helga's adjacent quarters were positioned opposite Oscar and Alfred's rooms and, though Oscar was at the center of every rumor and question, he had checked out of the chaos entirely. He spent his days playing with his son, taking care of him, feeding him from his suddenly full and aching breasts. Aiden's mere proximity had triggered a surplus of milk, and Oscar happily spilled it for the child at every opportunity. He would read to his son as he fed him, filling the baby's mind with grand adventures and flowing language even as he filled his belly. The two of them rapidly developed a bond, and Oscar's torn heart finally began to heal.
Alfred watched them tenderly. He had almost expected to be jealous of the child and of his effortless closeness to Oscar; instead, watching them play together filled Alfred with joy. His own mother had been that way with him and Brennan. She had dismissed the notion of parenting by proxy, which was standard for the royal family, and had even gone so far as to teach them their letters and numbers before hiring a tutor. Alfred vaguely recalled his father resisting this sort of common family dynamic, but his mother quickly silenced him. It wasn't until after her death that he and Brennan were pitted against one another. His father had forced them to earn his affection and praise in a zero-sum competition in which the only winner was the king himself. Alfred swore to himself that he would never do that to his offspring. Now, as he watched Oscar crawl around on the floor with the baby, he expanded that oath to include children of his heart as well as his blood.
"Highness?" Burges said quietly, so as not to intrude on the happy moment.
"Yes, Burges?"
"The humans have breached the perimeter. Five scattered when our scouts approached. One did not. They are bringing him in now
."
"Do we know his status with the other humans?"
"He claims to be the Developer. We aren't certain what that means."
"Very well. I want him comfortable, but secure."
"The study, your highness?"
Alfred thought for a moment. His father's study hadn't been touched since the old man passed, but it was designed to be the most secure room in the house. The heavy doors had a steel core between two solid planks of oak, and the only other exit was a trapdoor beneath the heavy flint stone desk. It had no windows at all, and the walls were lined with towering, incredibly heavy bookcases. Approaching the door still made Alfred's stomach lurch and his blood run cold. That room had set the scene for innumerable lectures, dressing-downs and episodes of flat-out abuse. That room had been his father's true kingdom.
"Yes," Alfred said, defiantly. "Yes, the study."
"Very good, sir."
A flicker of pride crossed the old man's face, and Alfred couldn't help but wonder if he'd suggested that room for that very reason.
"How long until they arrive?" Alfred asked.
"Half an hour or so, sire. They are traveling this way as we speak."
"Excellent. Any other news?"
"The people are still demanding answers, and the wedding planner has called half a dozen times today. I suggest you prepare a statement as soon as possible, as our population tends to be... violent when restless."
"Yes, good point. Riots breaking out right before a wedding wouldn't do my reputation any favors."
"Precisely, sire."
"Right. I will put something together. Thank you, Burges."
Burges bowed and went on his way. Alfred stepped farther into the nursery and knelt down on the floor beside Oscar and Aiden.
"Hello, little one!"
Aiden grinned and crawled over to him, climbing up into his lap without a second of hesitation.
"I think he likes you," Oscar laughed.
"Well that is wonderful, because I sort of like him too."
Oscar's heart fluttered as he watched Alfred play with his son. The baby brought a side of Alfred to the surface that Oscar never would have expected to exist within such a man. He was soft and gentle, funny and surprising, endlessly patient even when Aiden would tangle his little fists in Alfred's hair and pull; he was everything that Oscar had ever wanted in the moments when he played with Aiden. Without Aiden, Alfred was still imperfect. He was still impatient, occasionally petulant, controlling, demanding and had a mean streak. He wasn't the politest, or the gentlest, and he had very little capacity for romance. But, as Oscar watched him chatter nonsense back and forth with Aiden, he wondered if he couldn't overlook those flaws. He knew he had plenty of his own; he was no saint. He wondered if it was possible for two terribly flawed people to find perfection together. He didn't have an answer but, when Alfred looked at him with eyes full of laughter, he desperately wanted to find one.
"I will need to make a statement today," Alfred said, interrupting his train of thought. "I will need to clear the air and answer the questions for the good of the people. I would appreciate your help, if you can bear to be away from Mr. Aiden for a little while."
There was no acid in Alfred's tone; on the contrary, he sounded warm and more than a little indulgent, and tickled Aiden's fat, round belly as he spoke.
"It's about to be nap time anyway," Oscar said. "I'll fetch Helga, if you wouldn't mind staying here with Aiden for a minute."
"I wouldn't mind at all," Alfred said. "No, I wouldn't, no, I... my nose! He has my nose! Oh... my breath, he's stolen my breath... the room... it darkens...!"
Alfred flopped dramatically to the ground as Aiden squealed with laughter. Oscar grinned and stepped into the hallway, confident that there was no one in the world he would rather leave his child with.
AFTER A BRIEF DISCUSSION with Oscar about the details he wished to cover in the statement, Alfred left him alone in the library to tend to the human problem. Scouts had brought the man quickly, and he had been waiting for Alfred for more than twenty minutes by the time him was free to speak. He wrestled with his instincts as he approached the study door. Everything in him was telling him not to open the door, to stay outside, to let the human rot in there. He shook himself, dispersing the fear building up just under his skin, priming him to shift into a terrible beast. The guards outside the door cast curious glances at him, but weren't foolish enough to comment. Alfred inhaled deeply and pushed through the door as memories smashed into him. The scents, the sights, the feel of the place hadn't changed one iota since his father's passing. The only difference now was the middle-aged, overweight man in the expensive suit who sat in the chair normally reserved for disobedient princes.
"It's about time!" the man said as Alfred crossed the room.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Kingdom to rule and all that. Prince Alfred."
"Don Mulligan."
He shook Alfred's hand with his fleshy, sweaty fist, and Alfred had to force himself not to wipe his hand furiously on his pants the second he retrieved it. He smiled wanly and circled the desk to take his place in the oversized leather chair. It still contained his father's imprint; one still too large for him to fill. He sat up straight and looked the human in the eye.
"Mr. Mulligan. My scouts tell me that you and several other men were found within our borders."
"Borders? What borders? This land belongs to me, every last inch of it!"
"Oh?" Alfred asked neutrally, raising an eyebrow. "Where did you get that idea?"
"I paid two million for this stretch of wilderness," Mulligan said, with a scowl. "And I intend to develop it."
"Right, and by develop you mean...?"
"Shops! Houses! Factories! Highways! Civilization!"
"Surely you didn't miss the existing civilization as you were brought here, did you?"
"What civilization? A handful of hovels, a cluster of farms? This isn't civilization, it's barbaric! You are trespassing on my land!"
Alfred laughed softly.
"You are claiming that we—a kingdom more ancient than the oldest human city—are trespassing on your land."
"I bought it fair and square! No one said anything about a hippie cult when I signed the papers, ancient or not, you gypsies have got to go."
"Hm," Alfred said, tapping his mouth. "I'm told the men you were with scattered. Why didn't you?"
"Why would I? A couple of lunatics in bad werewolf costumes jump out at us, and that's supposed to scare us? I don't know why those lily-livered lunatics ran away, but your theatrics don't scare me, mister!"
Alfred squinted at the man's face. Deep lines were carved into either side of his eyes, deeper than one would have expected for a man his age. Alfred thought for a moment; the man was all pride and bluster, a straight question would be useless. He turned to look over his shoulder, and got an idea.
"Our right to this land is clearly expressed in that document, there."
He pointed to a sign on the wall which stated, in rather large print, that food or drink in the study was a punishable crime. Mulligan squinted at the document, then turned up his nose.
"Send it to my lawyer," he said, dismissively. "I don't read legalese."
Alfred grinned.
"Right, I'll be sure to do that, but first... there's something I want to show you. Do you know why our kingdom has secluded ourselves from the likes of you for so long?"
"Because you’re ignorant unpatriotic hippies who hate capitalism!"
"No, son. It's because we made a decision long ago..." Alfred pushed himself out of his chair, letting the pent-up fear and adrenaline from the last several days course through his body.
"That humans," he continued as his arms and legs extended and his chest swelled to rip through his silk shirt. "Were just too intelligent to continue hunting..."
His snout extended and razor-sharp teeth lengthened within it, even as claws sprouted on the ends of his long, hybrid fingers.
"For food."
&nb
sp; He growled and snapped at the man, close enough to see his own terrible reflection in the man's terrified eyes.
"Wh–what are you, you freak?!"
"The rightful owner of this land," Alfred snarled.
"W–well we'll have to take that up with the law," the man stuttered, stubbornly. "I s–sank too much money into it!"
Alfred sighed and dropped his massive, monstrous head in frustration. He marched to the door, snapping his elongated fingers and pointing at the chair when Mulligan tried to move. He opened the door and stuck his head out, making his guards jump in surprise.
"Burges!"
"Sire?"
"What is the shifter equivalent of two million, human?"
"Approximately one-point-six, highness."
"What would that do to our gold reserves?"
Burges thought about it for a moment, and finally shook his head.
"I will have to consult with my human contact," he said. "I believe the price of gold has inflated for the humans in recent years."
"Go check. Then call me on the study phone."
"Right away, sire."
Alfred slammed the door and sighed, returning to the desk.
"Now then," he said. "How does a soft, juicy walking steak like you make it clear to adulthood without developing a healthy sense of fear?"
"Oh, I haven't," Mulligan said, dabbing at his brow. "No offense, but my investors frighten me a hell of a lot more than you do."
"Their teeth are bigger?" Alfred quipped.
"Ha... no... but they would bankrupt me."
"You say that as though you value money more than your own life."
"If you handled as much of it as I do, you would too."
Alfred threw back his head and laughed, his vicious teeth glistening in the low light.
"I trade with wolf packs from here to the southern tip. I am directly responsible for thousands of lives. I move money, and people, like pawns. Money is nothing but a shell game. You appear to be laboring under the delusion that money is an actual thing worth protecting, when in reality it is nothing but a symbol. An I.O.U., an assertion of potential power. You humans will kill yourselves chasing it. My kind has been waiting for that day for a long time."
Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 73