The stone-cold fairy princess, who had sent hundreds of men to their deaths, crumbled. A tear leaked from her closed eyes.
She slumped to the floor in a faint, face-down. But her breathing pattern showed she was faking.
"I have no problem killing a lying, cheating, fake-fainting bitch," I said.
Ruby jerked and spun over, presenting her throat, trembling with rage. I pressed my bare right foot to her throat, resisting the urge to stomp and end her.
"Say the words," I crooned. "It'll be over soon."
Her mouth pursed like she had just swallowed acid, she said, "I, Princess Ruby, acknowledge Princess Luna of Luna Pack as my alpha."
Her body shook with tremors of hate and rage, and tears leaked from her eyes.
I pulled my foot from her throat and held out my hand to help her up.
She took my hand and rose to her feet, eyes downcast, unable to meet my gaze.
I pulled her close and said, "Welcome to Luna Pack, Ruby. Now give your sister-in-law a hug."
2
Shaking with emotion, Ruby embraced me.
Even she, a princess of the Fae realm, calmed at my touch, like all members of my pack.
She wasn't a were—hell, she wasn't even human—but the bonds of pack loyalty wrapped around us.
Would that be enough to keep her from betraying me? I didn’t know. This was uncharted territory.
My lips brushed her pointed ear as I whispered, much too low for the other fairies to hear, "If you ever betray me, your champion's death will seem a release into Paradise compared to what I'll do to you."
She nodded against my shoulder and wept silent tears. She must have really liked the guy.
For a moment, I considered how we looked—the silk-adorned teary-eyed princess hugging the naked, gore-covered werewolf—then I ignored the opinions of fucking fairies who had cheered on the group that had tried to kill me.
I released Ruby and turned to Princess Perla, my mother-in-law. As Ruby's clothes were of scarlet silk, Perla's robes were made of iridescent pearl-colored silks—of a much higher quality than her daughter's clothing.
The tiniest head-shake showed she wasn't ready for a hug yet. Stuck-up Tinkerbell bitch. She had the power to end this series of contests, but chose not to.
I turned to Mason, my pack-mate, my life-mate, the man who had stood by in the audience while I had been hunted by the insane fairy posse.
Still, his inaction wasn't because of a reluctance to help—those damned fairy laws bound him not to interfere. I hugged him tightly, eliciting an almost silent "oof" from him.
He whispered in my ear, too low for anyone but a werewolf to hear, "Only six more to go."
I reached up and gripped his chin to turn his head toward his mother, Princess Perla. "Seven," I said. I felt his nod against my palm, accepting that I wouldn't stop until his mother submitted.
Safe in his embrace, my mind flashed back to the day this had all started.
We had been having dinner in Tokyo—our core group: Mason; Naomi, our kitsune ally; her mate Kuga, who was also a pack ally; and Logan, my omega.
The rest of my pack was back in Wyoming, working with my old pack on training, hunting, and building a new home for us.
I missed my pack, but too much contact with them might lead to unwelcome revelations. The tiniest scent of my magical nature could send my pack into a killing rage. Alpha or not, I couldn't risk that.
I hoped to reveal the news slowly and avoid those complications.
The core group knew of my dual werewolf/magician nature. Well, Logan pretended not to know, but he had seen too many strange things in my presence to not be at least suspicious. He had a great capacity for self-deception. It was his most human trait.
Still, we made a strange group, full of secrets. And I had a big one.
I had been so full of my news that my heart was beating double-time.
Near the end of dinner, Mason had made his standard joke about one of our first meals, shortly after we had become intimate—the time he had joked about me "eating for two," only to be horrified when I agreed with him and said that it was true.
His horror had been followed by relief when I told him that "eating for two" was normal for a werewolf.
That night in Tokyo I had held my news until he recounted his favorite joke. I waited until he had given the punchline: "She's always eating for two."
Then I responded with, "No, Mason. I'm eating for three."
His wineglass hit the floor, spilling a sweet red over the carpet.
He opened his mouth to ask, and I added, "Or maybe four. It's hard to tell."
Mason had turned to Naomi, the kitsune shifter who was part of our group. She was the only one of our group with senses sharp enough to detect my condition. His look of betrayal was short-lived.
"I knew about her condition," she said. "But I would never reveal a friend's secrets." Then she held one hand in front of her mouth and giggled. "And the look on your face was priceless!"
Mason shook his head like a boxer who’d taken too many hits in a round. "Three or more?"
Naomi leaned over and stuck her nose between my breasts, taking a deep sniff.
She shook her head and said, "Sorry, Mason. I can't tell how many, or even what the sex will be."
I rubbed my tummy and mused, “My family is known for multiple births. I have a strong feeling I’m carrying at least twins. One feels different, maybe a boy and a girl?”
That comment surprised Mason, and he said, "Over ninety-nine percent of werewolf offspring are males, right?"
Then he gazed at the wall with a faraway look and said, "If it's twin boys, we'll name them Romulus and Remus. Those names have a lot of history—reared by a she-wolf, founders of a great city…" His voice trailed off as he dreamed of a future that would never be.
"Didn't Romulus kill Remus before the founding of Rome?" I interrupted. "Thank you, but I will not name our children after a fratricidal pair."
I took a sip of my Coke and continued with a smile. "Anyway, they might both be girls."
"Girls," whispered Mason in disbelief. "That would be bad news."
"Bad news? You don’t want girls?" My voice shifted to a growl and the rest of the restaurant went silent. I hadn't realized I had mated with a misogynist.
"Oh, no," he said in a voice that quelled any doubts. He would love our children, no matter what they were. "I would love to have girls."
"So what's the problem?" I asked.
"My mate having girls would affect the succession," he said.
"Succession? What the hell does that mean?"
Naomi was the first to understand, since she was a niece to the queen of the kitsune.
Naomi held up a hand to silence me, then asked Mason, "So you are of royal descent?" She leaned closer to Mason than I was comfortable with and took a deep sniff.
"Fae royalty?" she hissed. Was there some history between Mason's family and Naomi's?
Then it hit me. Mason was Fae. I was miffed he hadn’t told me, then remembered the glee with which I announced my pregnancy. We both had been keeping secrets.
"Half-Fae," said Mason. "And definitely not royalty."
Naomi tilted her head in a gesture of disbelief. She raised one forefinger to point at her nose, a gesture that showed Mason was lying. Her eyes flashed in anger.
"Well," continued Mason, "I guess technically I'm royalty. But as a male, I’ll never ascend to the throne."
Naomi opened her mouth to comment, but stopped when I held a hand up. I took a sip of the Coke, wishing it could be an umeboshi sour, and thought for a moment.
"So all your jokes weren't really jokes," I began.
"Jokes?" asked Naomi.
I gave Mason a sour look. "Your nickname for me is 'Princess Luna.' You said your father was the 'Burger King.' You gave me magic slippers and called yourself my 'Prince Charming.'"
He looked embarrassed, and said, "I can explain—"
I stroked my moonsto
ne amulet, the amulet that gave me more power than any werewolf in the world. "And when you gave me this amulet, you called it a 'gift fit for a princess.'"
"So," said Mason, "the truth was there in front of you all along. It's not like I really hid anything—"
"Idiot!" hissed Naomi. "Tell her the rest. Tell her why having girl kits will cause problems."
Mason's face turned white, then he nodded.
"Fae society is matriarchal," he said. "Much like the kitsune, they pass leadership through the female line. I'm a prince, practically worthless to the Fae. But if a prince has female children, the succession becomes complicated."
"Why should it be complicated?" I asked. "I have no interest in going to your moonless world. We can just stay here in the real world and not have to worry about fairy tales."
"That might not be an option," said Mason. "My family might insist on a visit. The aunts will insist on seeing the children."
"Aunts?" interrupted Naomi. "Mason, just how many siblings do you have?"
Instead of answering directly, Mason said, "My mother has seven daughters from her first marriage. I am the only progeny of her second marriage."
"You have seven stepsisters?" I asked. How many more secrets did Mason have?
"Seven evil stepsisters," said Naomi. "Seven spoiled princesses who won't like a half-human bringing werewolf cubs into the royal family."
"Evil?" I asked. "Why do you say they’re evil?"
"Because they're fairies," said Naomi. "They're all evil."
"They're not all evil," said Mason. "I have fond memories with two or three of them."
"And the rest?" asked Naomi sharply.
The look on Mason's face was enough to convince me.
"If it’s going to cause problems," I said, "we'll just go no-contact with them."
"If we have boys," said Mason, "that should be no problem. And since it's ninety-nine percent certain that these children"—he reached over and held my hand—"our children will be males…"
Naomi's grin presaged a zinger. "Yeah, but I thought that ninety-nine percent thing was only when the father was a werewolf. What happens to the odds when the father is a magician?"
I pulled my hand from Mason, crossed my arms, and said, "And if we have a girl, or girls?"
"That would be wonderful," he said. "And terrible. Tradition would have us present the new contenders to mom and my sisters for their approval."
"And if they don't approve?"
"Exile, execution, or entropy," said Mason.
"Entropy?"
"Time in the Twilight Lands is variable," said Mason. "In some areas, time moves so quickly that those who are sent there age and die in seconds of normal time."
"And if I choose none of the above?'"
"You could swear fealty to my mother," said Mason. "That would protect you and the children from attacks and put them out of the line of succession."
My wolf growled inside my head. The thought of begging for protection from a fairy mother-in-law didn't sit well with her.
Or me.
Naomi was shaking her head. "That's not the only option, is it now?" she asked Mason.
"The Challenge is not an option," said Mason flatly. "It's much too dangerous. And it must be completed before the children are born."
"Challenge?" I asked.
Ignoring Mason's stern look, Naomi said, "If you can kick the asses of these fairy sisters, they will have to swear fealty to you." She frowned, then added, "Or at least swear to not interfere in your lives."
"Then I choose door number three," I said. "I will not put our new family at the mercy of strangers."
"You can't," said Mason. "I won't let—"
My finger on his lips halted his statement before could finish. "You weren't about to forbid me from doing this, were you?"
"It's dangerous," he said. "Too dangerous."
Dangerous? Of course it was dangerous. But Mason had never tried to protect me like this before. We had fought side-by-side against alpha werewolves, magicians, and demons.
"You know I had to fight a werewolf to become the leader of my pack, right?" I asked, nodding at Logan. "All those fights were dangerous, and you never objected."
"And that time he left you in that Arctic prison," added Naomi. "Caged in with a bunch of horny werewolves. That was dangerous." She sniffed and added, "For them."
Why was Mason staring at my belly? Oh crap—he wasn't worried about me not being able to fight; he was worried about our children. I suddenly felt embarrassed that I hadn't thought of that sooner.
I rubbed my belly and said, "This won't impair my fighting skills." He gave a shake of his head, and I added, "Well, at least for a few months. Until then, I'll be able to handle myself."
3
The waiter brought the dessert cart over and we spent several minutes selecting sweets. Naomi chose fruit, commenting that the American-style desserts served here were too sweet for her Japanese tastes.
Mason took a bite of his chocolate mousse pie and savored the flavors for a moment. Then he said, "We have a lot to talk about, lots of decisions to make."
"Tell me about this Challenge," I said. "It sounds like all I have to do is beat up your sisters to win. All at once or one at a time, I'm ready."
Mason took a sip of his Irish coffee. The scent of the expensive brandy wafted across the table as he spoke. "It's more complicated than that. The princesses will nominate a champion or champions to fight at their behest."
"Not that she needs it," interjected Naomi, "but can't you be Luna's champion?"
"That's not possible," said Mason.
"Because you're scared?" asked Naomi, "or reluctant to beat up your sisters?"
I snorted at the thought of Mason fearing a challenge. He had faced down and defeated an alpha werewolf to save me. Then I saw the glint in Naomi's eye as she fought back a grin. Her teasing nature would get her in trouble one day.
"I'm not afraid of my stepsisters," said Mason, emphasizing the 'step.' "But the rules prohibit Luna's mate from being her champion."
"Can't you just break up to avoid that silly rule?" said Naomi. "You can always get back together later."
Mason and I both shook our heads. Break up with Mason? Unthinkable.
"I won’t lie about our relationship," said Mason.
"Sure you can," said Naomi. "I've heard you lie a dozen times."
Mason raised an eyebrow in disbelief and Naomi continued, "Like that trip we made together to retrieve Jorōgumo's sword. You said eating fairy food would kill you."
"No," corrected Mason, "I said that humans eating Fae food get addicted and never want to leave. For me, fairy food is like home cooking; it's nice, but not that important."
I remembered Mason hauling a huge backpack stuffed with food on that trip. He had gone to a lot of trouble to keep his half-human nature a secret.
I realized that his fairy nature wasn’t a huge surprise. Why was that? My inner wolf sniffed loudly inside me head. She hadn’t been fooled. I realized that on some level, I had already known.
"Okay, you didn't lie that time," said Naomi. "But I'm sure you can. If not, I'll teach you how."
"Naomi," I said, "we will not lie about our relationship."
Naomi looked disappointed, then clapped her hands in glee, "I know! I'll be Luna's champion."
She reached down and stroked a dessert knife on our table as if it were a lover's hand. She turned to me and said, "Please make me your champion. The queen would reward me greatly if I killed some fairies." She hugged herself and wriggled in her chair. "And the prize for killing a fairy princess would be even greater."
In the chair next to Naomi, her partner Kuga shook her head violently. She didn't want Naomi risking her life so soon after their reunion.
Mason saved me from turning her down by saying, "We appreciate your offer, but a kitsune champion fighting the Fae royal family could lead to war."
Naomi opened her mouth to argue, then clamped it shut. "As long
as it involves no civilians," she said, "my queen won't object."
"There's no way to guarantee that," said Mason.
Naomi crossed her arms and looked angry. "Damn fairies refuse to fight fair." Her brows furrowed in concentration, then she brightened up.
"I can be your bodyguard," she stated. "If any of those sneaky fairies try to pull anything, I'll be there to watch your back."
Kuga shivered and opened her mouth to object, then closed it, saying nothing. She gave me a tiny nod to show her reluctant agreement to Naomi's role as bodyguard.
Oblivious to our silent exchange, Naomi leaned forward and crossed her hands on her knees. "And if my protection entails a murder or two, so much the better. If I can get a few sets of pointy ears…"
The smile on her face as she contemplated murder and mayhem would have chilled the heart of a serial killer.
Then she tilted her head back and started singing an a cappella version of an old Whitney Houston song, from a movie about a bodyguard.
Her voice was so pure, so enthralling, that everyone in the restaurant stopped eating to listen.
If anyone else had sung about eternal love for another in front of her girlfriend, that relationship would have ended. But besides being an amazing vocalist, Naomi had an incredible talent for convincing others. Despite a sour look from Kuga, Naomi turned toward Kuga as she sang and made the song about them.
The song ended to a smattering of applause from the crowd. Naomi stood and took a bow. Then she covered her mouth in fake shyness and said, "I love karaoke."
"Okay," I joked as she sat, "you can be my bodyguard. But if there's a singing contest, I'll make you my champion."
"I can also translate for you," she said.
"Translate?"
"You don't think those stuck-up fairies will speak English, do you?" asked Naomi.
"But Mason speaks English," I said.
"Oh, they all can speak English," said Naomi. "They're talented with languages. Not as good as kitsune, but pretty good. But they will insist on you using their language. You'll need a translator."
"Why? Mason will be with me."
Instead of answering, Naomi turned to Mason. "Will you be able to translate for her? Isn't there some fairy rule about 'non-interference' in the Challenge?"
Lycan Legacy - 4 - 5 - 6: Princess - Progeny - Paladin: Book 4 - 5 - 6 in the Lycan Legacy Series Page 2