And then the ice fog that had been making its way down the slope arrived. It was thicker than any mist Gina had seen before and it moved as if it was…alive. It enveloped the field of battle, shrouding the two tigers in mist as they battled. The magic of the ice fog sparked off Mitch’s fur as it rolled over the combatants locked in flashes of teeth and claws and blood.
The fog continued spreading, moving toward the onlookers. It enveloped Gina and her entourage in a gentle wave of fog that gave them some cover. But when it hit the other side of the field, a scream went up from the mage, drawing Gina’s gaze as he was physically imprisoned by tendrils of dense fog. It dragged him downward as she watched, swallowing him whole.
And then he simply disappeared. The fog had taken him and Gina didn’t even want to speculate on where or how. What mattered most was that he was gone. Out of the action. Unable to lob any more fireballs at her and her people.
To them, the fog was a benevolent shield of sorts. To the human mage who’d dared interfere with a sacred challenge, it had been a deadly form of justice.
There were ancient rules about challenges. No outside interference was allowed. Targeting others to distract the two champions was not allowed. Gisli’s pet mage hadn’t played by the rules, and somehow the ice fog had come to set that right.
“There’s powerful magic in the fog,” Gunnar said as he returned to his position in front of her. Now that the fireballs had stopped, her people were regrouping around her.
“It healed me,” Adele whispered loud enough for Gina to hear. “When the fog touched my wound, I could feel fire and ice, and then the pain was gone and the wound with it.”
Gunnar merely nodded as if he’d expected no less and returned his attention to the combat that was ongoing in the center of the field of challenge. The two tigers were upright on their hind legs, locked in an epic struggle.
And then Gisli roared in pain as Mitch scored a solid hit. Blood gushed from deep gouges on Gisli’s flank. The two tigers broke apart and went down on all fours, hidden mostly from view in the fog. It parted as Mitch made his next move. He crashed down on Gisli with all his power and Gina heard the snap of bones as Gisli cried out.
The fog dissipated and the two tigers remained. Gisli was on the ground broken beyond repair, while Mitch stood above him, prowling back and forth, his tail twitching with agitation. The most confusing part of all was that Gisli…had turned orange.
His dull fur was no longer the sickly off-white. He was no longer blanche. And as he breathed his last, it was clear that any magic he’d had once upon a time had left him for good.
Mitch shifted back to his human form and walked toward Gina. He scooped up his sweatpants and boots along the way, stepping into his pants as he went. He climbed the little rise in the ice on which Gina and her small group of Guards had watched the battle.
When he reached her, he simply opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace. They were both shaking with emotion, clinging to each other while the rest of the onlookers remained speechless.
Before long, Gisli’s supporters began to wake up and try to make a run for it, but the mountain wasn’t done with them yet. Without warning, a huge flood of water swept down the slope at an incredible pace. The source of the water was a new fissure that had opened up just below the peak of the mountain, lined up perfectly with the battlefield.
It all happened so fast, there was no time for anyone to get out of the way. Gisli’s body was swept away first, followed by the tight knot of his supporters. Within moments, they were gone from sight, lost to the torrent.
Oddly—or perhaps magically—the water just missed the small hill on which Gina and Mitch clung to each other, surrounded by their friends. Only a thin line of Royal Guards who had stood behind Gisli at the perimeter of the cliff had escaped the flood on that side of the field.
“What the hell was that?” Gina asked after the main force of the water died down.
“Jökulhlaup,” Gunnar answered from a few feet away. “When the volcano erupts, the heat melts a huge amount of snow and ice under the ice cap. It builds up in the caldera and can release all at once, sweeping away everything in its path. It wiped out a big section of the Ring Road last time it let loose.” Gunnar looked into the darkness, his gaze following the path of the water. “It is doubtful their bodies will ever be found.”
“I hope no innocents were caught up in that,” Gina whispered.
“Have no fear, princess,” Gunnar went on. “Only Gisli’s staunchest supporters were in that group. He kept his sycophants close to him at all times. The Clan is better off without them. They were as poisonous as he was.”
As they talked, the row of Royal Guards came closer. The waters were finished gushing and had gone as quickly as they had come.
“What happens now?” Gina asked Mitch, still held close in his arms. He was bloody, but she didn’t care. He was alive and that’s all that mattered.
“I’m not sure. I hadn’t really thought beyond the challenge,” he admitted, moving slightly away to smile down at her.
“You did it. Praise the Lady. You did it!”
He looked around, moving a little farther back from her. “Yeah, I guess so. Hot damn.”
The Guards neared, and one by one, they slid to one knee as they formed a semi-circle around Gina and Mitch. Gunnar joined them. Only the Old Guard friends they’d brought with them from the States kept their feet, watching intently, ever vigilant.
“Gunnar…” Gina stepped away from Mitch so that they stood side-by-side. “What’s going on?”
The younger man rose and bowed toward both her and Mitch. Then he winked and turned to address the people who were kneeling all around.
“Royal Guard!” he called out in a ringing tone that carried to all present. “The winner of the challenge is Mitchell Gustavson. He is one of us. A Royal Guard born and bred.” Those kneeling cheered. Mitch stood his ground though Gina knew he was uncomfortable with all the attention focused on him. Then Gunnar held up a hand, signaling for silence. “By right of combat, he is our new king.”
Gina felt Mitch tense at her side. The others seemed skeptical as well, even though Gunnar’s tone had held no doubt whatsoever. One of the Guard stood and faced Mitch.
“Gustavsons are always d’or. Were you born blanche?”
It was an older woman who asked the question. She had battle scars and looked as if she had served many years as a Royal Guard. Her tone was curious, not accusing, so Gina took her question as a good sign. These people wanted to know more about Mitch before they made any decisions. After living under Gisli’s rule for so long, she didn’t blame them one bit.
“I’ve always been golden,” Mitch admitted, clearly uncomfortable. “Until a couple of weeks ago. I was poisoned in battle and nearly died protecting another monarch, as was my duty. Princess Gina saved me and the first time I shifted fully, I…changed.”
“Goddess touched,” the same woman breathed and then sank back to one knee. “I will accept you as my king,” she went on in a firmer voice.
“Now wait a minute.” Mitch held up one hand, palm outward, already backpedaling.
Gina had a feeling he meant to renounce the throne, but she didn’t want him to be hasty. Her father wasn’t here, and if given a chance, she doubted her dad would want to come back and rule. He’d given up on being king of the Clan a long time ago, and she thought she knew him well enough to be able to say that he’d made peace with his decision. He wasn’t power hungry. He didn’t really want the throne. He just wanted peace and prosperity for the Clan and safety for his family.
Mitch had accomplished the latter by defeating Gisli in battle. The terror her uncle had imposed on her family for so many years was finally at an end. But what would happen next was unclear.
She put one hand on Mitch’s arm to halt his words. “Emotions are high,” she said in a strong voice that she knew would carry to the assembled Guards. “Let’s take stock of where we all stand before any mor
e decisions are made. We first must deal with Gisli’s defeat and the impact on the Clan. Everything else can be decided later.” She looked at the kneeling Guards. “For one thing, I understand that none of you have been given leave to be with your families in the village for weeks.” Many of the Guards couldn’t hide their hopeful expressions as they met her gaze. “Any of you who want to go home, should. Come back when you can. We will be sorting out the mess my uncle left behind. Anyone who can assist in that task is welcome. The Clan comes first.”
Gunnar rose, smiling brightly. “Spoken like a true queen,” he complimented her as the other Royal Guards stood as well.
About half of them didn’t wait another minute before shifting shape and running for the village. Their families were waiting, she was sure. And word would spread from them as to Gisli’s fate.
“Should we go see what’s become of the stronghold since your father’s time?”
Chapter Twelve
Surrounded by the core group of friends who had come with them from America and the rest of Gisli’s Guard, they entered the stronghold. Gina held her breath. She had been born here, but she wasn’t sure how the memories of her childhood would measure up to the reality.
She shouldn’t have worried. It was even more majestic than she remembered. The fissure in the ice wall created a narrow passage that went up for hundreds of feet until it met in the solid block of glacial ice far over their heads. They moved down the small corridor, heading toward the series of chambers that led eventually to the heart of the stronghold, deep inside the mountain.
Ice and sleek black volcanic rock blended to create something utterly unique in the world. As they moved deeper inside, the floors under their feet went from ice to basaltic rock that had flowed as if directed by the hand of the Goddess into perfectly flat, level sheets. The deeper they went, the more rock formed the walls of the chambers in fluted spires that joined seamlessly with the ice that soared high above their heads. Circuitous, winding shafts here and there allowed for air exchange, while the purity of the water let light to filter through the translucent ice and reflective snow to illuminate the halls deep beneath the surface.
In the great audience chamber—the largest room of the stronghold—the soaring arched walls were made of deceptively strong, delicate-looking columns of stone that had flowed into precise geometric shapes to mesh with the thick glacier in an arrangement that was nothing less than magical. Black and white, the room was a study in extremes and contrasts, yet somehow it formed a thing of intense beauty.
“This place is amazing,” Mitch whispered as he stopped short just below the dais where two thrones of obsidian and ice rose from the floor created of the same shiny black, volcanic glass.
The steps up to the thrones weren’t carved. They looked as if they had been created when some giant builder had poured sparkling obsidian in oval waves from above, each puddling an exact step higher than the last layer, decreasing in diameter as they rose to the final platform that was crowned by the two thrones made from spindly stalagmites of obsidian topped with even thinner spires of ice. Black and white. Like a Goddess-blessed white tiger’s fur.
“It’s just like I remember it,” Gina agreed, looking around in wonder. “I wasn’t sure. I was very small when we left. I thought maybe I’d over-romanticized the place, but this is even more than I remember.”
Mitch reached out and took her hand. She could almost feel the power of the Grim running through him. His golden eyes had glowed with the magic of the mountain and though he was still bloodstained, he wasn’t hurt. The Lady and Her sacred mountain had healed him even as it gave him strength. He was the most amazing man. If she didn’t already know him and love him, she thought she might be really intimidated.
Mitch turned around and stopped short. Gina followed, realizing quickly that they had gathered quite an entourage during their journey in from the cliff face. Their friends created a buffer of sorts between them and what looked like the entire population of the stronghold. Everybody, it seemed, had turned out to see what Mitch would do next.
“I think you’d better say something to them,” Gina whispered for Mitch’s ears alone. “Some of them looked worried.”
He tightened his hand on hers fractionally. “Some of them probably should be,” he mused low enough so that only she could hear. “But you’re right, my love.” He lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles before lowering their hands again. He didn’t let her go and she was glad. She needed the reassurance of his touch after everything that had just happened.
“For those of you who haven’t heard yet, my name is Mitch.” He raised his voice and it carried beautifully in the cavernous room. This near the dais, it was pretty clear that the acoustics of the room had been finely tuned by nature—or rather, by Mother Nature. “Much has happened here today and much will take place over the next few days as we take stock of the mess left behind by the former steward. Right now, I want everyone to cease all business operations until each section has been reviewed. We’ll start with the most mission-critical areas tomorrow morning at five a.m. local time. In the meantime, I want each section head to lock their offices and allow no entry until someone from my staff comes to check things over tomorrow. Any non-compliance will earn detention and questioning, in that order. Understood?”
“You’re really sexy when you get all businessy,” Gina whispered, bringing a small grin to Mitch’s mouth as he turned his head to look at her.
“Are you trying to make me crazy?” he answered back in the same low tone that kept the byplay between the two of them.
“Is it working?”
“They’re wondering who you are. Shall we inform them officially?” he asked, changing the subject without answering. She gave him a small nod, taking a deep breath for courage.
She hadn’t lived as a public figure since her early childhood, and back then she hadn’t even realized it. This was a whole different ball game. Her entire life to this point had been about staying hidden. Putting herself and her true identity on display for all to see went against the grain. But she knew she had to step up and stand by Mitch. He’d done it. He’d put himself out there. Now she had to do the same.
“The honor guard we brought with us from the States is made up of children of those loyal Royal Guards who went into exile with my lady’s father, King Frederick. They have my trust and you can regard them as acting for me. I don’t know you yet and you certainly don’t know me, but you should remember the rightful king and his family. This is Princess Gleda, my mate. You will treat her with respect due her as a born and bred tigre blanche. If you don’t, you’ll answer to me.” The little growl that came through in his voice on that last bit made her feel all tingly inside.
He was staking his claim in front of their people and her inner tigress absolutely loved it. When he’d named her as his mate, she’d wanted to purr.
Quite a few of the faces in the crowd showed surprise and dare she hope—happiness? Some of the people looked very familiar, but she’d been so young when she left here, she couldn’t be sure of her memories from when she was just a cub. Still, a little part of her hoped that some of the tigers here would remember her and her family with fondness and maybe feel a little more inclined to welcome her back.
She knew they had questions—probably more than she and Mitch could handle right now. He was still covered in blood and the sweat of the battle and she’d never seen anything sexier. Still, he needed to get cleaned up, and even with the power of the volcano running through him, it had been a long day.
“We should find one of the guest rooms and clean up a bit,” she whispered to him and he looked over and nodded slightly in agreement.
He might be the all-powerful volcano whisperer, but she was starting to drag. The intense anxiety of the past hours had definitely taken a toll on her. All she wanted was a warm bath and then to lie in Mitch’s arms for a few hours. To reassure herself that he was all right and with her. To be held in the
security of her mate’s embrace.
“Forgive me, love,” Mitch rumbled near her ear as he bent to place a small kiss on her cheek.
She smiled up at him as he retreated. “There’s nothing to forgive. Let’s leave them to mull over the changes and face this fresh in a few hours. Five a.m. is going to come quickly, and before it does I want to ravish you at least a few times.”
“You’ve just made me an offer I cannot refuse,” he quipped with a grin. He turned without explaining anything further to the crowed and, still holding her hand, left the massive chamber and its tigers behind. “Where are these guest rooms you’re so proud of?” he demanded in a teasing tone once they were out of the main chamber and back in the series of smaller hallways and antechambers that had characterized the majority of the stronghold.
“If I remember correctly, they’re down the next corridor.”
The Old Guard had followed them, she saw, stationing one of Gisli’s Guards at the door to the audience chamber to keep curious cats from following them. The guest quarters were just where she remembered and they picked a suite at random.
Mitch tried not to become impatient when Paul insisted on searching the guest suite for any dangers before he’d allow them inside. Mitch understood the sense of it and silently approved of Paul’s caution, but it felt distinctly odd to be on the other end of such precautions. Usually, it was Mitch clearing the way for the Nyx.
Finally, they were alone. Paul and some of his brethren would be guarding outside the chamber, but inside, it was just the two of them. As it should be.
As the door closed behind them, Gina turned into his arms and just held him for a long, long moment. He could feel her trembling and he hugged her tighter.
“It’s okay. It’s all over and we both made it through,” he whispered, trying to reassure her.
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