Suddenly a quiet voice rose from the back of the crowd. “She’s right.”
The noble turned, indignant. “Trivag, you can’t mean that. Dearg’s Will—”
“Was violated countless times by our king, Jetad, and we all knew it.” The man who had pushed his way to the front of the crowd was tall, and distinguished, still handsome as an archangel despite his obvious years. He looked sixty, which for a Sidhe must have made him old indeed. To Llyr he added, “It shames me I did nothing while you lost so much, Your Majesty.”
Llyr sighed. “Ansgar would have killed you and your entire clan, Lord Trivag. You could not have done differently.”
“Perhaps not, but I can now.” He sank to one knee. “You have my loyalty, King Llyr Galatyn, belated though it is. If you’ll have it.”
Llyr smiled and bent his head in a slight bow. “And you have mine. I will not forget your support.”
Jetad sighed. “Trivag, curse you, must you always be so bloody noble? I was hoping to be king.”
“Indeed?” Llyr drawled. “Are you prepared to fight a civil war for the throne? For with me gone, many of your fellow nobles would likely have the same thought.”
Jetad hesitated, clearly thinking that one over. Finally the calculation faded from his eyes, and he lifted his narrow shoulders in a sigh of surrender. “I suppose so. And I didn’t like the last war at all.” As Diana and Llyr watched, he, too, sank to his knee, followed by the rest of the Sidhe, including the palace guard. That they caved so easily probably said more about Ansgar than anything else.
“That’s one kingdom down,” Llyr murmured, soft enough for her Direkind ears alone. “Unfortunately, I’ll wager my bunch are not going to be this easy.”
“Are you nuts?” she murmured back. “They’ll kiss your boots.”
Llyr moved quickly to solidify his hold on the Morven throne. There was some grumbling, but Trivag and Jetad—the latter no doubt to score points—put a quick end to it. It helped that Llyr had the Dragon’s Mark flexing on his chest, silent reminder of both his power and status as Heir to Heroes.
Personally, Diana thought he’d established he was one of those heroes.
He then closeted himself with his new nobles, after first showing Diana to one of the palace’s chambers, then conjuring both clothing and a feast for her out of respect for her werewolf appetite. Transforming to human form, she attacked the food with joyous greed.
Diana had just finished off the crumbs and was considering a well-deserved nap when he returned. He was garbed once more in full court regalia, right down to velvet doublet, hose, and a truly impressive crown she’d never seen him wear before. “Nice hat,” she said dryly, eyeing it, as he closed the door behind him.
“It’s the crown of both kingdoms. Belonged to my father,” he said, dropping into a slipper chair and rubbing his eyes. He looked tired.
“Have you talked to the bunch back home?”
Llyr nodded. “They’re all here now.”
“How’d they take it?”
“Surprisingly well. They’ve decided I acted in self-defense.”
Diana grinned. “Told you. Your people genuinely love you, Llyr. There was no way they were going to kick up a fuss about your getting rid of that weasel.”
He snorted. “Speaking of whom, I’ve put my grandmother over the task of planning Ansgar’s funeral.”
“I’ll bet she’s enjoying that.”
“She is, actually. I don’t think she liked him very much.” Llyr’s tired smile faded. “I’ve also recovered the bodies of my men from your county morgue. Along, I might add, with all medical records. Your Doctor Garrison no longer recalls anything unusual.”
Diana sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Well, that’s one less giant aching pain in my ass. Have you checked on Gist?”
“Not yet, but I can arrange it.” His gaze met hers, searching and intense. “Along with seeing to it that your council and your people lose any interest in firing you. Though I would prefer to offer you an alternative post.”
Her heart began to pound. Did he want her to become his mistress? And if he did, what should she say? “What exactly did you have in mind?”
Then, to her astonishment, he went to one knee before her and took her hand in his. As she stared, he gave her a small smile. “Be my queen.”
“What?”
His beautiful opal eyes were earnest as he gazed up at her. “Diana, I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to have my children.”
“Llyr, I’m a werewolf. I can’t have children with a Sidhe.”
His lush mouth tightened with cool determination. “I know, but I think I can come up with a spell to fix that. Marry me.”
“What, fix my infertility or fix me being a werewolf?” Her head was spinning.
He gestured impatiently with one elegant had. “The infertility. Being Direkind is part of what you are, and I love everything about you.” His gaze searched her face. “The question is, how do you feel about me?”
Diana huffed in bewildered frustration. “Well, I love you, of course. But that’s not the issue.”
“It’s the only one that counts. Marry me, Diana. Be my queen.”
She gazed at him, feeling helpless. “You’re nuts. You can’t make a werewolf Queen of the Sidhe.”
A fine muscle worked in his jaw as his eyes narrowed. “Watch me. And marry me, Diana.”
She sighed. “I love you, Llyr. Of course I’ll marry you. But you and I both know it’s not going to work.”
“I’ll make it work. I want you. I love you. And you’ll make the greatest queen the Sidhe have ever known.”
“You’re insane!” Oriana exploded as the nobles of both kingdoms gaped at Llyr in astonishment. “You can’t make a werewolf Queen of the Sidhe!”
“I can.” Llyr sat in regal splendor on his massive throne, a magnificent ermine cape riding his broad shoulders. His black jeweled doublet and boots were so thickly encrusted with gems and gold embroidery, they weighed as much as his armor. “She fought for me. She saved my life time and again. But more than that, I love her, and I’ll have her for my queen or no one.”
Oriana wrung her hands. “Then make her your consort. None of us will object. But Llyr, she’s mortal. She’s a werewolf. Her children will be werewolves, assuming you can create a spell to make her fertile with you.”
“Yours is a line of heroes,” Lord Trivag agreed, his quiet voice as steady as his eyes. He’d supported Llyr before, but it was obvious he felt the king had stepped over the line. “You can’t taint it with non-Sidhe blood.”
A murmur of outraged agreement rose. Another man stepped forward. “I have advised you for sixteen centuries, Your Majesty. Listen to me now. Make her your consort if you must, but you can’t marry her.”
Diana stood frozen by his throne, her cheeks hot with humiliation. That’s what I get, she thought, feeling sick. I knew this was going to happen, but no, I had to ignore my common sense.
Llyr’s gaze met hers, anguished. She fought the rise of tears. “They’re right,” she choked out. “I’ll be your consort. But not…I’ll get old, Llyr. I’ll die.”
He squared his shoulders with the the same iron determination she’d seen there when he’d come into the execution chamber to save her from Ansgar. Rising to his feet, he shrugged off his ermine cape as if to do battle. “I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I watched Diana London fight for me with a courage I have never seen in anyone, male or female, mortal or Sidhe. She protected me when I lost my powers, even though it meant endangering both her life and the job she loved. She protected the people of Verdaville with the same ferocity. And she would have been a queen such as the Sidhe have never known.” Slowly, deliberately, he took off his crown, turned, and placed it on the seat of the throne. “And I will have her for my wife, even if it means the Sidhe must find a new king.”
Oriana’s gasp of horror was echoed by every Sidhe in the room. “You’d give up your crown for a handful of years with a
rapidly aging mortal? Have you run mad?”
Llyr took Diana’s shaking hands as she gaped at him. “No.” He lifted his voice until it rang. “I watched four wives and ten children murdered without lifting a hand to claim the revenge my heart screamed for. I made that sacrifice because doing anything else would plunge both kingdoms into war when my father’s curse struck me down. I endured my grief and rage, though there were times my life was one black, aching void.” He turned a hard gaze over the assembled Sidhe. “I have suffered enough for you. Fifty years, ten years—each day she is my wife will be precious.”
“You can’t!” Diana breathed. She tugged her hands free from his. “No! I won’t allow this. You can’t do this to your people, Llyr. There’ll be a war!”
Llyr had never looked more remorseless, not even when he’d killed Ansgar. “Yes. And I think they deserve it. They did nothing while my children died, even though they knew Ansgar violated my father’s will.”
She stared up into those beautiful, coldly determined eyes. He was giving up everything for her. “What kind of life can we have, knowing we caused a war to get it?”
“Listen to her, Llyr!” Oriana pleaded.
Llyr turned and lifted a brow. “But she’s only a werewolf. Isn’t that what you keep telling me?”
“All right, enough.” The male voice was powerful, rich, and not one she recognized. There was a rustle as everyone turned to look toward the entrance of the throne room.
A man strode through the double doors, his strides long, yet with a smooth grace that was more animal than man. He wore full court garb, but there was something odd about the shape of his face, the tone of his skin, the long fall of his hair. His eyes glowed as brightly as blue candle flames with the power of his magic.
Llyr realized before any of them. “Cachamwri!” He sank to one knee in reverence.
The stranger was the Dragon God? Shaken, Diana went to her knees, too. He was no god of hers, but there was no point in pissing him off.
“On your knees!” Llyr ordered his people hoarsely, lowering his eyes. “Cachamwri walks among us.”
There was a rising, startled murmur, but with a mass rustle and collective thump, the Sidhe obeyed en masse.
Holding her breath, not daring to lift her eyes, Diana listened to the click of approaching boots. The sense of power grew the closer Cachamwri came, until by the time he stood before them, it felt as if magic was crawling all over her body like thousands of invisible ants. Every hair on her body rose to quivering attention, and her heart thudded in a combination of excitement and panic.
As he stood looking down at them, Diana’s senses insisted that he was much bigger than the six-foot male he appeared. His voice rumbled when he spoke. “I have not taken this form in six thousand years, and I am not pleased to take it now.”
“My apologies, Bright One.” Despite Cachamwri’s overwhelming presence, Llyr’s voice was so steady, Diana couldn’t help but be impressed. “If you had something you wished of me, you had only to ask. You need not have made such an effort.”
“Actually, this time it was necessary. I’m not pleased.”
Llyr stiffened. Diana winced, silently praying he resisted the impulse to do something that would get himself killed. She dared a quick peek upward as the Dragon God braced big fists on his hips. “I have taken a great deal of trouble to put the Galatyn line on the Sidhe double throne. Do you mean to discard my gift, boy?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Llyr lift his head and meet the Dragon’s gaze. “It is not my preference, but I will not give up Diana to keep it. She’s my love, and I want her for the mother of my children.”
“Of course you do. You’re not a fool.”
Startled, Diana glanced up to find Cachamwri’s gaze on her, a quirk of amusement in the corner of his mouth. “I knew you were the mother I wanted for the next Galatyn hero when you buried your knife in Ansgar’s balls,” he told her in that awe-inspiring voice. “When you offered to eat any Morven traitor who raised a hand to Llyr, I was sure of it.” The Dragon God turned toward the bowing Sidhe, his cloak belling behind him with the movement. “If you don’t want her for a queen, you’re all fools.”
“But she’s mortal!” Oriana whispered, her voice strained and anguished.
The Dragon made a dismissive gesture that was thoroughly human. “Pah, that’s nothing. Who do you think gave the Sidhe immortality to begin with?” He turned and looked down at her. “Would you become immortal to stay with your handsome king, then? Would you bear his children, and give birth to the next of my heroes?”
Diana swallowed. The implications were terrifying. Not only was the responsibility overwhelming, but she’d outlive her family and friends. But she’d also have Llyr. “Yes. To stay with Llyr. Yes.”
Cachamwri nodded. “I knew you were a sensible child. Stand up, then.”
Diana obeyed. Her knees were shaking, and she fought to steady them. Wide-eyed, she watched Cachamwri step closer. His skin was tinged with blue. Looking closer, she saw a faint, ghostly pattern of scales lay over his high cheekbones. His glowing blue eyes had tight-slit pupils, and on closer examination, his long hair was actually a fall of rich iridescent feathers.
As she stared at him, hypnotized, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers in an avuncular kiss. Frozen with a kind of dizzy terror, she didn’t move. Then his lips began to heat. Power blasted into her, pouring from his mouth in a hot torrent that flooded her mouth, her nose, foamed its way into every cell of her body until she felt stuffed and glowing.
When he stepped back, her knees gave out. Llyr caught her as she fell.
“There,” the Dragon said. “She’s both immortal and cross-fertile with Sidhe. Her children will be Direkind, but they’ll be magic users, too.” He looked out across the kneeling Sidhe. “You were getting inbred anyway. A little genetic diversity will do you good.”
Then, as the Sidhe watched, hardly daring to breathe, he swept out.
Diana scarcely noticed. She was staring, entranced, into Llyr’s handsome, joyous face. As the door closed behind the Dragon, his mouth descended on hers in a kiss that was scarcely less powerful than Cachamwri’s.
TWENTY
Diana was still floating the next day when they gated to Verdaville County General to play a visit on Gist. He was in intensive care, having spent several hours in surgery the night before. Doctors had told his wife it would likely be a long, painful recovery.
That prognosis changed, however, when Llyr rested one big hand on the sleeping police chief’s injured belly. Magic poured from his palm in a wave of dancing light.
Gist’s eyes opened wide as strength flooded his debilitated body. “Jesus!” he gasped, his gaze meeting the Sidhe’s. “What’d you do?”
Diana gave him a happy grin. “Just making sure you can attend the wedding.”
“Wedding?” The chief looked dazed. “What wedding? Would somebody tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Ours. Llyr has asked me to marry him in two weeks.” She extended a hand, where she wore the impressive diamond Llyr had conjured in a nod to mortal custom.
“Some rock.” Gist’s eyes lifted to hers, going sharp as his mind began to catch up, thanks to the new strength of his body. “But I thought you said it wasn’t going to work, since Legolas here is supposed to be some kind of king.”
“I changed her mind,” Llyr drawled with a smile, looking almost as lovesick as she did.
“I’m happy for both of you. But what about Vampire Bitch?” Gist glowered. “I’m nursing a grudge.”
The amusement drained from the Sidhe king’s eyes. “She’s dead,” he said shortly.
“Good.” The chief eyed him shrewdly. “I don’t suppose there’s a body so I can give the families some closure.”
Llyr hesitated, considering it. “I can probably arrange something convincing.”
“That’ll help.” He turned his attention to Diana. “What are you going to do about the council? They think
you’re still missing, by the way. My wife said they’d be meeting around noon or so.”
Diana smiled coolly. “Sounds like a good time to hand in my notice.” And she planned to thoroughly enjoy it.
When Diana and Llyr walked into the council chamber, all seven council members turned toward them with varying expressions of amazement.
“Diana!” City Clerk Tammy Jones said, jumping up out of her seat, an expression of joy on her face. She sank back down when Thompson shot her a narrow look.
“Where have you been?” the mayor demanded. “We’ve had every cop in the county out looking for you. All anybody found was a circle of singed ground and splattered blood out in the woods.”
“Did you catch the killer?” Councilwoman Carly Jefferies’s eyes shone with avid excitement.
“Yes,” Diana said. “And no, you don’t need to know what happened.”
The council was still gaping in offended astonishment when Llyr cast his spell.
“So,” she announced, as they stared at her, bewildered, “I just dropped by to give my notice. I suggest you promote Tammy here to interim manager while you find someone else for the job. In fact, offer it to her. She knows the job better than anybody you can afford to hire ever would.”
There was a shocked pause before Thompson drawled, “Well, I surely do hate to hear you’re leaving us. You’ve done an excellent job as city manager. You’ll be missed.” He frowned. “I hope this isn’t about that business last night.”
“You know,” Jefferies said, “I don’t know why we all got so upset. In hindsight, it’s obvious Diana was perfectly justified in what she did.” She sighed. “We were just under so much stress. It’s been a bad time for us all, with all these killings.”
“I don’t suppose you’d consider staying on with us?” the mayor asked.
Diana shot Llyr a veiled look. “I’m afraid not. I’ve had another offer.”
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