From father to son, this law was respected and upheld throughout the generations and the world still turned in a happy and harmonious manner. But, as all good things must go, the era of grace and harmony came to an end. Into the seat of King, a bad man was born. This King of the LeKing Tribe was a Werebear who was envious of the humans. His soul burned for the money and fame the humans had. He couldn’t understand why the Were Tribes of the world didn’t overtake the humans for dominance. Dissatisfied with a life protecting the earth, the King rose forth and started a war on behalf of the Were Tribes.
Many lives were lost. The Were community had spent too long protecting the earth and existing in harmony. They didn’t see why they had to fight for a life in which they did not believe, For this reason, the Werebeasts turned against the King and he was killed in a battle against his own kin.
For a time, the LeKing Tribe mourned the loss, not of their leader, but of the era of peace they had shattered and the respect among the Werebeasts they had lost. In time, a council was created and they asked their gods to give them a new way to divine the King among their kind. They no longer wanted to rely on blood lineage, as it had failed to keep strong leaders on the throne.
The gods answered and it was divined that in each generation, there would be one male Werebear born with fur as pure and white as the snow. This way, the people of the LeKing Tribe would know that he was to be the Alpha of their Tribe. He would rule over the cares and concerns of his people with a just and steady hand. But to bring balance to the Tribe, there would also be a Werebear born with fur as black as night, with nary a strand or spot to blight its blackness. This Werebear would be the Omega and he would take care of the strategies and wars of the Tribe. In this respect, the two Werebears would form a system of checks and balances; therefore, no longer would the Tribe be beholden to a single man’s ideals.
The council was happy with this proclamation and rejoiced in its natural harmony. However, the gods were not done with their change. They explained that while the checks and balances would work in theory, it was also possible for the two leaders to work in isolation, losing connection with the important work of the other. They would need a third person to tie the Tribe together. Thus, the Alpha and the Omega would share a Queen. To each generation would be born a female with a coat perfectly divided between pure white and pure black. There would be no grey area on her fur, and yet, she would be the grey area for the Tribe. The Queen would be the mixing point that brought the strength of the Omega and the compassion of the Alpha together to ensure the future harmony of their race.
From that day forth, with each new generation, an Alpha and an Omega appeared in the ranks of the cubs. Five years after the birth of the male leaders, the Queen would be born. Over the years, tradition dictated that the Queen be brought up in isolation to be tutored with the very best education of the time and focused solely on the world of the clan and the support of her husbands. For hundreds of years, the situation remained harmonious until this modern age...
CHAPTER ONE
Lavinia dissected the perfect face staring back at her. Multiple professionals and laypersons alike had described it as symmetrical, apparently a high compliment, even if it sounded like something a mathematician might notice. The eyes she saw staring back at her were almond shaped and framed with the thick fringe of lashes that needed no mascara for enhancement. Their deep brown color was said to radiate compassion and inspire desire with the change of a glance. The nose was straight and it’s tip upraised and the lips beneath were full, and currently, stained a deep red. It was the one failing of the face that, naturally, it’s lips were of the garden variety pink color.
Moving on to the bone structure, Lavinia could see that the cheekbones were strongly defined, as was the jawline. Though, the entire structure was softened by the appearance of two dimples when the face smiled. Waves of a brown hair so dark as to almost appear black, contrasted with the lightest of skin tones. Lavinia supposed the woman could have posed as Snow White in another life. Perhaps, she would’ve made a good Disney Princess, greeting little girls of all ages and species as they entered that mythical park of hopes and dreams.
Alas, that was not the future for this face. Nor was a career as a model, a scientist or a teacher. Nope, this face was apparently destined for so much more and, Lavinia thought, so much less. It was a face crafted to be likable as well as to be desired. The woman behind it molded like clay from her earliest memories to be a very specific type of person.
Lavinia always thought it was a shame that the woman hadn’t had the chance to find out what role suited her on her own. Perhaps she could’ve made a few mistakes to add character to the perfect skin covering the long sleek limbs. Maybe a love bite or tattoo to cover the soft inside of her breast or over the creamy expanse of waxed, buffed and polished skin one might find a tiny scar to announce a personal history. Something...
“Lavinia?...Vinny? Hellooo? Earth to Lavinia. You’ve got to shed that old robe my friend, don’t you want to meet your husbands in something a little more flattering?”
Lavinia blinked at her reflection and looked down from the mirror, pulling herself from her depressing self-criticism and taking in the faded velvet robe she’d loved since she was fourteen. Yes, it was ugly, but damn it, it was so soft!
Turning to her handmaiden and best friend, Callia, she stood to get dressed. “Alright, I’ll change into the dress, but the robe is coming with me. You promised. So did Tutor. Will you make sure it goes to the royal suite? I want one thing in there tonight that I recognize.”
“Of course, though, you have to promise me you’ll wait to put it on till after the men get a glimpse of the goods...you don’t want their first impression of your wedding night to be of that stained thing. Would you at least consider wearing some of the stuff that’s been pulled for you? There’s a few lace numbers that have my mouth watering.” Callia looked over at the wardrobe racks with longing. “This is all totally wasted on you,” she said, giving Lavinia’s butt a little tap. “Now, head over behind the screen. Your wedding dress and undergarments are all laid out.”
As Lavinia walked around the antique screen, painted with scenes of French fairy tales, she reminded herself to be more positive. In truth, she loved all the clothing, too. For the last few months, designer duds had been flown in from all around the world. Lavinia even had her own group of royal seamstresses to fit and alter each piece so it fit as though it was made for her. Soon, she’d be on the radar not only of the LeKing Tribe, but of all the Werebeast communities. Even if the idea scared her shitless, she figured the least she could count on was being fashionably dressed.
On the other side of the screen, a set of blue lace bra and panties was spread out. The sheer demi cups left little to the imagination and the panties may have covered her ample behind, but they too showed everything. Lavinia looked into the mirror as she put them on and looked down with a blush. Yup, that was definitely everything! Turning around, she faced a mannequin made in the exact proportions of her body. The hourglass curves of the form were draped in beaded lace fitted in a snug mermaid style. Once Lavinia stepped into the dress, she called out for Callia to come and fasten her in.
Lavinia looked in the mirror as the handmaiden turned the corner of the screen. Short for a Werebear, the woman couldn’t have been less outwardly like Lavinia. Where Lavinia was aesthetically a traditional beauty, Callia was an edgy punk. Her friend was covered in tattoos, a bouquet of flowers blossomed from between her breasts and continued in vines down her arms. Her hair was long on one side and shaved on the other with the whole thing dyed a cherry red. When she’d shown up last week with the new do, Lavinia had been flabbergasted.
But Callia had only laughed and explained that it was very trendy right now and that as soon as Lavinia was approved for WiFi access, she’d show her pictures of some human named Rhianna. That was one thing Lavinia was looking forward to: the freedom to study and search for whatever information interested her. Wit
h the wedding today, her years of government-mandated education would end. Bring on Google!
Callia knelt down and gathered the sides of the dress. “Alright, let’s get you into this thing,” she said with a smile.
“Ha. Let’s all pray I didn’t gain an ounce or we’re going to have to sew me into this thing. Gods hope that the Alpha and the Omega come to their wedding bed with a pair of scissors!”
“Nah,” Callia said expertly buttoning the long row of satin buttons up the back of the dress, “We all need to pray they don’t rip the thing off you in haste. I’d be very sad if these buttons met their end that way. The dress is far too pretty to mar.”
When she was finished with the buttons, Callia stepped back and both women examined Lavinia’s reflection in the mirror. Damn, the dress really was stunning. The ivory lace skimmed Lavinia’s body, falling just short of too tight. The built-in corset lifted her already generous chest to epic heights and she reminded herself not to breathe too deeply during the ceremony or celebration that followed. Real pearls and crystals decorated the bodice. One of the human designers had been secretly commissioned, knowing that the dress would never make the tabloids. It was the work of hours upon hours of hand stitching. Lavinia was scared she’d do something horrible, like trip on her way into the cave and rip a big hole in the delicate design.
Looking up at her friend’s awed expression, Lavinia felt hope blossom in her chest. “Do you think they’ll be happy with me?”
“Oh honey, how could they not. You are literally perfect,” she said with a hug.
Lavinia hugged her friend back, trying to strengthen herself on all of the support and love her friend was giving to her. She was about to step into the unknown; it was a whole new world of husbands, politics, sex, and celebrity-hood. Lavinia could only hope that her tutor had known what he was doing over the years, because at that moment, Lavinia felt as though she was about to jump off a cliff blindfolded. Her heart raced as she realized It was equal parts exciting and terrifying.
If he had to answer one more email, he was going to scream. Parker LeKing stared at his iPhone and sighed. He accented the feeling of frustration with a flip of his golden blonde hair and the maid in the corner of the room nearly swooned in response. Parker barely noticed. His entire life he had been the object of women’s affections – men’s too. Parker was the Werebear women wanted and men wanted to be. In theory, this was a good thing but it could also be exhausting.
It wasn’t that he wanted to be any less attractive or charming. He had to be, as the Alpha of his Werebear Tribe. It was just that at times, he wished he didn’t have to live his life. If only just for a moment... As Alpha, he was in charge of the political realm of the leadership. It meant he fielded emails, phone calls, meetings and parties that included everyone from foreign dignitaries to the people of the LeKing Tribe.
It was a role he took seriously and one that for the most part, he enjoyed. But sometimes he wished he could be like Thearon and claim some national crisis like “threat of war” to beg off tea with the Queen of England. Not that she wasn’t a nice lady, but if he had to hear one more story about her dogs, he was going to toss his crumpets.
Parker started rereading the latest in a series of “urgently flagged” emails from the New Orleans Werewolf Tribe, Loupbrun, about the appearance of a small, mixed band of Werebeasts entering the territory. Paulette explained that she found the group to be threatening and vicious, though she couldn’t provide an example in the present or past, of a time when any of the men had broken Were law.
Given that it was close to Mardi Gras, Parker thought her paranoia a little extreme. Both the LeKing and Loupbrun Tribe were going to see a lot of visitors, both suspicious and pedestrian, over the course of the next month. The two weeks of Mardi Gras were always insane and they never left the celebration without at least one casualty and multiple arrests. Thearon was going to have a field day disciplining everyone. Parker was pretty sure the man lived to crack the whip.
Finally handing off the phone to his assistant, Thomas, Parker had no desire to see the little electronic device until he was free of the traditional marriage ceremonies. Nodding at his latest in an army of assistants, Parker smiled and said, “Under threat of bodily harm, don’t hand me that thing until after the wedding ceremonies are finished, unless you suspect doing so will save a life.”
Thomas looked gravely at the electronic device in question, “I will do my best sir. You only want me to notify you if there is a matter involving life or death.”
Slapping the man on the back, Parker verified, “Yup. Life or death.” Turning toward the mirror he had a thought, “Except if it comes from Paulette Loupbrun. Those threats are not urgent at the moment.”
“Understood, sir.” Parker eyed the serious young Were as if the man were going to salute him. He didn’t know where Thomas took his etiquette cues.
Parker strived to be a leader that knew everyone’s name. He studied books containing pictures of his Tribe, had an app on his phone that reminded him, via facial recognition, who people were, and generally aimed to be friendly with the masses. Yet, Thomas treated him as if he was someone to be revered. In fact, he treated Parker as if Parker were Thearon: strict and unyielding.
“Thomas, are you planning on attending the party later tonight?”
“Yes sir, but did you need something else from me?”
My gods this new assistant was so eager to help, thought Parker. “No Thomas, in fact, what I’d like you to do is have some fun tonight. Forget about me and find yourself a girl.”
Thomas’s eyes furrowed, “But Alpha, the party is in your honor…”
“Yes Thomas, it is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t use it as an excuse to have a night off. It would please me very much if you took advantage of the situation and just had some fun. I think you need a little more fun in your life.”
Thomas studied his reflection and Parker’s own image in the mirror before reflecting, “I think you might need to have fun tonight too, sir.”
Parker started at the suggestion. What did Thomas mean? Parker had fun. He had lots of fun in between all of the official appearances, lawmaking and hours of study needed to understand the world. He had quite a history as a ladies’ man and he was sure Thomas would blush if he only knew. It might have been awhile since he’d given into the urge to be wild, perhaps before his coronation...but he didn’t need a night off for fun, that was for sure.
Turning to face the mirror, Parker held out his hand for his ceremonial jacket. It was a stiff affair from the turn of the century of two centuries ago. It was a jacket that the last three generations of Alphas had worn for their wedding. . Thearon had tried to fight the tradition by suggesting they have suits made on Savile Row in England, but Parker had been steadfast to the traditions set forth by their forefathers. If they had all worn the sharply cut red jacket with the epaulets then so would he. Thearon, however, had remained stubborn to his point of view and had gone to a tailor to design a new outfit. Parker had yet to see the monstrosity but just thinking about the break in tradition made him angry.
Taking in his tall form in the gilt mirror that had been a gift from a Russian Czar in the nineteenth century, Parker was proud of the traditions of his clan. He was even more than happy to share a wife with Thearon because he could see the beauty in the trinity they would become; each holding an important part in the hierarchy of the LeKing Tribe.
What Parker tried to ignore as he fixed the cufflinks on his shirt, was the fact that he was not only marrying a woman he’d never met, he’d also be marrying his best friend who also happened to be the most frustrating man he’d ever met. Parker wasn’t sure what was worse, knowing what he was getting into with Thearon, or not knowing what he was getting from his new Queen. He was pretty sure Thearon was the worst part.
Parker trusted in the Tribe’s tradition that the two men spend their wedding night and the following day together as a threesome with the Queen, but he wasn’t sure wha
t it was going to be like to have sex with a man in the same room. Obviously, it was important that they participate in the act together but how was that supposed to go? What would their roles be? What was he supposed to...touch...
Parker snapped his jacket together and forced himself to focus on the image in the mirror. He looked as all Alphas had on their wedding day: handsome, formal and sure. Keeping in the traditions of his Tribe had always served him well. Parker just had to trust that they would continue in leading him to a life of health and happiness, and that the gods had chosen the right three people to bring together in holy matrimony.
Sighing again, Parker realized he needed a little time to clear his head and remove the weight of stress from his shoulders. “Thomas, what time is it?”
“You have fifteen minutes till the wedding, sir.”
Hmm, fifteen minutes. He could get around the garden easily in ten, more than enough time to arrive at the entrance to the ceremonial cave for the ceremony. It would be perfect timing as, at the moment, he wasn’t sure he could stand next to Thearon without feeling anxious. Parker wasn’t ready to show weakness in front of his other half.
“Alright, Thomas, as your last act of assisting for this evening, I would like you to escort me to the gardens. I think I’ll take a loop around them before heading to the wedding.”
*
Thearon LeKing checked his watch for the fifth time. It was official: everyone else was late. The first time he’d checked the time, Thearon had admitted that he was early. The second and third times he’d checked the watch had been within the realm of “on time” and the fourth instance, had shown him a clock face that was popularly referred to as “fashionably late.” At twenty minutes after his wedding was to have started, however, it couldn’t be called anything other than “late.”
Simply Bears: A Ten Book Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance Collection Page 67