“Not at all,” he hastened to answer her as she approached the bottom step. He offered her his arm and felt mildly satisfied when she slipped her delicate hand into the crook of his arm. “I’ve been busy with kingdom issues since I arrived. I don’t think I’ve even stopped long enough to sit down for a single meal that wasn’t microwaved,” he mused and smiled when she laughed.
“I can’t imagine the time and effort it takes to run a complete Faction,” she observed and tucked her chin shyly. “I know your brother has acted as your proxy since you enlisted in the military, are you up to speed or is it not my place to ask?”
“You can ask whatever you like,” Wesley informed her pragmatically. “This is your Faction too after all and should everything proceed as I hope, you will reign at my side as my Princess.”
Beth’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” she confessed.
“It means that everything that is mine will become yours,” he informed her with a sly smile. “And that includes all royal business.”
****
Two weeks later…
Beth waited anxiously just inside the front door of the formal estate. Wesley stood on her right side, holding her hand firmly in his and Lance stood on her left. The trio managed to inhabit half the interior of the spacious entryway.
After everything she’d read, everything she’d seen and the things Henry had explained to her, Beth had no choice but to seriously consider converting. She couldn’t argue that the true Ancient Ways were barbaric. The version her parents raised her on was a very diluted depiction. But even that didn’t matter; she couldn’t see herself continuing to follow that path.
This consideration wasn’t simply because she’d fallen in love with Wesley; deep down she knew that he’d marry her regardless. He respected her enough to allow her freedom to pursue her own interests, dreams and even her own religious beliefs. Sure, could she remain a follower of the Ancient Ways, it would prove difficult for them, but she knew that together, they would make it work.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Wesley tightened his hold on their clasped hands and she accepted the small, almost invisible action as an enormous sign of faith. They hadn’t told her parents of the conflict of interests and even though it was technically a matter for the Prince to handle, Wesley had agreed to allow Beth a chance to speak with her parents about their failure to convert when the decree was instituted many centuries ago.
She wanted the truth as to why they’d virtually betrayed their leader for a way of life that seemed almost savage compared to the newer Modernism.
“What shall I tell them about the ceremony?” Beth whispered. She’d realized they hadn’t told her mother and father anything other than a few extra weeks were needed for preparations. It had been the only way to delay their trip to witness.
“Stick with our original story,” he responded. “Elder Seraphina has volunteered to act as an obstacle. Since ritual rites dictate that at least six Elders be in attendance, she’ll delay her arrival in order to give us an excuse.”
Beth nodded and inhaled deeply, steeling herself for the conversation to come.
Tires crunched across the pea-gravel drive as the car eased to a stop directly out front. She heard her mother’s low murmurs and her father admonishing her. Even though she’d lived in such conditions all her life, a fire sprang to life inside her at the mere thought of the things her mother had suffered through.
Lance stepped forward and pulled the door open before they reached it. Both parents looked up in alarm and Beth sought her mother’s eyes. Sadness filled her when she saw that she kept them firmly downcast.
Introductions were made and Beth stepped forward to embrace each of her parents but she felt no emotion in the gestures. It was as if her mother moved on auto-pilot.
“It is an honor to see you again You Highness,” her father bowed his six-feet-four-inch frame before Wesley, his large arms held firmly at his side. His pitch black hair was slicked back with enough hair pomade to cover the Atlantic. Both parents were dressed in casual attire, her mother wearing a rather modest sapphire blue pant suit and her father his normal black suit, white shirt and a matching black tie. Her mother’s dark auburn hair was pulled back in a perfect chignon, with not a hair out of place.
Wesley motioned for Jeremy to rise and extended his hand toward him. The big, boisterous Texan reciprocated with a frown of disapproval. Beth could only imagine the thoughts running through her father’s head.
Turning from the men, Beth took her mother’s hands in hers and offered a warm smile.
“I’ve missed you,” she murmured to the older woman. Instead of responding in kind, Emily merely smiled and gave a curt nod of her regal head.
At a loss on how to proceed, Beth sought out Wesley and tried her best to convey the slip of panic coursing through her.
Snapping to attention, Wesley opened his arms.
“Beth, why don’t you take your parents up to the Library and catch up?” he suggested with a slight nod. Seizing the opportunity, Lance stepped forward and offered Emily his arm.
“I’ll take them up,” Lance offered. “Beth, perhaps you’d like to ask Ginny for some refreshments? I’ll keep Mr. and Mrs. Henderson company while you do.” Without waiting for her response, Lance led her mother through the foyer and up the grand staircase, her father angrily on his heels.
“Take a deep breath,” Wesley whispered into her ear and her nerves calmed in response. They weren’t even properly mated yet and his impact on her left her breathless.
“Lance and I will wait in the Music Room across the hall. If you need me, all you have to do is call out, I’ll be there,” he reassured her and bent to press a light kiss across her forehead. “No matter what, I’ll be there.”
Chapter 7
Beth entered the Library with a tray consisting of a healthy pot of steaming hot tea, cookies and the usual: sugar, cream, spoons, cups, saucers and napkins.
Lance excused himself and she moved across the room to place the tray on the coffee table. Her parents were seated by the fireplace, across from one another with the low-sitting table between them. She poured their tea in silence and then sat beside her mother.
“It’s wonderful to see you,” she began. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
Jeremy sat his saucer down abruptly, tea sloshing out of the cup and onto the polished wood table.
“You’ve made yourself quite comfortable,” he accused with a menacing glare. “You’ve also forgotten your place.”
Beth straightened her spine and decided to merely lay it all out.
“Why did you raise me under the Ancient Ways knowing they’d been outlawed?” she blurted. She saw her mother flinch from the corner of her eye but refused to break eye contact with her father. “What you’ve done is considered treason and were you not my parents, Wesley would have you both imprisoned.”
Jeremy barked in laughter and rose from his seat to face the fireplace. Beth searched her mother’s face for any sign of remorse or guilt but saw nothing but steely determination. It angered her to know that her mother would follow her father so blindly.
“Mother,” she urged. “Surely you knew?” Emily refused to respond.
“Of course we knew,” Jeremy barked and whirled to face her. “And in answer to your question, we’ve remained true to our heritage - as have many, many others. We betrothed you to the Prince because we needed someone to get close to him, we needed someone he’d grow to trust. If we’re to win this war, we have to take the Prince.”
He moved back to his chair and picked up the tea cup, knocking back the amber liquid in one quick motion.
“We needed a mole in the Prince’s bed. He wouldn’t allow anyone else into his inner sanctum but his brother. Face it dear,” he sneered. “You are our mole. And you’re here so we can kill the Prince.”
Beth stared at her father in mortified disbelief as his words sank in.
“You want me to do what?” she asked, proud when her question came out calmer than she felt on the inside. “This is why you betrothed me to Prince Wesley? This is why you never converted? Because you refuse Modernism? You’re part of Coffer’s following?” Her voice rose with each revelation. Emily’s eyes snapped to Jeremy’s and her healthy skin paled. Beth knew her mother feared her husband’s reaction to such vocal disobedience from their daughter.
Beth found a deep satisfaction in knowing she’d grown in the past couple weeks. In learning of the treason her entire life had been, Wesley had offered her much more than freedom. He offered her a new life - one of her own choosing and with each moment that passed, she realized she chose to live that life with him; at his side as his wife, mate and his Princess.
She’d never betray him, not even for the people who raised her. She was merely a pawn in their sick game of politics.
Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp slap to her face. Her eyes teared instantly and she gasped in shock; her mind reeling when she realized her father had struck her. She cupped her stinging cheek gently with her hand and turned back to glare at her father.
“That is the very last time you will ever lay a hand on me,” Beth declared and turned to head for the door. Her only thoughts were getting to Wesley.
A steely grip on her upper arm stopped her cold in her tracks. She turned to glare at her father again and demand that he let her go when her mother rose from her seat and pulled a small silver cell phone from her purse.
“Then you leave me no choice,” Jeremy Henderson declared and hauled her across the room, throwing her down onto the fancy sitting sofa. “You gave us the chance we needed. It wasn’t necessary for you to marry him, we merely needed a way into the main lair.” Glancing up at Emily, Jeremy gave a curt nod and she immediately dialed the phone and handed it to him.
“We’re in,” he barked into the tiny device. “I expect every soldier we have here in ten minutes.” He snapped the phone shut and tossed it back to his wife. “It’s all set,” he announced. “The war has begun.”
Chapter 8
Wesley paced the floor of the Music Room, carefully weaving in and out amongst the various instruments strewn throughout the spacious room.
“What’s taking so long?” he demanded angrily. “I can’t hear anything through these soundproof walls,” he ranted. “I’m worried about her,” he confessed a bit more softly.
Lance looked up from where he sat at the piano and offered his brother a small smile.
“Patience big brother, it isn’t everyday a person has to chose between one life and another. Her entire life has been muted with the darkest blinders. She’s finally had them removed, can you imagine the culture shock she’s going through?” he asked and went back to tinkering with the keys.
Wesley scowled at Lance and his logic. At least he hadn’t commented on Wesley’s admission. He’d been smitten from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, but the more time they spent together and the more he learned about her, he couldn’t help but fall hard.
She was smart, brave, kind and the strongest woman he’d ever met. She’d endured a hellish childhood and chalked it up to remaining loyal to her core beliefs. He couldn’t think of many who would do such a thing anymore.
He also couldn’t believe the Henderson family was only one among an entire community who’d refused to convert to Modernism. A vast number of his Faction still upheld and practiced the Ancient Ways. He couldn’t believe his father hadn’t known about this.
Lance’s cellphone rang, the trill interrupting Wesley’s inner turmoil. He sighed heavily and moved over to the large windows facing the back yard of the formal estate. He marveled at the grass and shrubbery covering the little oasis and wondered how his brother had managed to keep the greenery thriving in such a harsh, relentless environment.
“Wesley,” Lance called and he whirled when he noted the panicky tone in his brother’s voice. “You need to take this, it’s begun,” Lance said and shoved the phone into his brother’s hand. “We’ve yet to officially announce your return so everyone still thinks I’m your Proxy,” he explained and jerked his chin at the phone.
Wesley nodded in understanding.
“Yes, this is Prince Wesley Anderson,” he greeted the caller.
“Good to hear your voice again, old friend,” Jaxen Monroe, Prince of the Earth Elementals spoke on the other end. “I’m afraid I’m not calling with good news. As I’ve just explained to your brother, my estate is under attack. I’ve been told it’s the Rebels and the attacks are coordinated across the globe. You may want to get yourself and your Faction to safety.”
Wesley’s blood froze in his veins.
“Then what the hell are you doing making a phone call?” Wesley barked. “Get your ass out of there!”
“My guard has everything under control for the moment,” Jaxen responded and the line crackled with interference. “Since my mate is with child, I’ve already sent her to a safe house. I’ve already notified Axel and Damien so they’re prepared, I gotta go my friend, stay safe.”
Wesley pulled the phone away from his ear and immediately went into soldier mode. Tossing the device back to his brother, he began barking orders.
“Get Lieutenant Samuels on the phone, I need SIN in action yesterday!” he exclaimed and stalked toward the open doorway. “I need to get Beth and her parents to safety,” he called over his shoulder. “Once you do that, get your ass underground.”
Casting a quick glance back at his brother, he scowled when he noticed Lance directly on his heels. Taken aback by his brother’s quick metamorphosis from jovial to stern leader, he raised an eyebrow as Lance relayed a situation report to Lt. Samuels. Without noticing that his brother had paused in the hallway, Lance colliding with him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Lance protested and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “I’m right beside you no matter what,” he declared and pulled himself to his full height.
Seeing his brother’s steely resolve, Wesley nodded once and approached the Library door. He grabbed the knob and scowled when he found the door locked. Raising his fisted hand, he beat on the solid wood.
“Beth,” he called. “I need you and your parents to come out here, we have a situation.” He kept his voice calm not wanting to panic her or the Hendersons.
The door swung open and Wesley found himself facing the business end of a .40 cal handgun. Jeremy Henderson smirked at him and jacked the slide, putting a round in the chamber.
“One more step and I’ll kill your brother,” Jeremy warned and swiveled to aim the weapon at Lance’s chest.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Wesley growled as fresh lava burst to life inside of him. He felt the raging inferno explode in the pit of his stomach and jet into his bloodstream. His fingernails elongated into viciously curved talons and teeth morphed into lethal fangs.
“I’ve set a centuries old plan into motion,” Jeremy bragged with a sneer. “Elder Coffer’s little kidnapping incident was merely a diversion.”
Wesley glared past Jeremy to see Beth sitting in front of the fireplace with her hands bound and a gag across her mouth. His vision went red with rage. Suddenly it all made sense. The betrothal, the reason they’d never converted, the secret society in Texas. It was all part of a coup and Beth had been the pawn.
“Let her go and I’ll consider letting you leave in one piece,” Wesley offered, his voice already guttural with the oncoming shift. Every fiber of his being wanted to rip the snide asshole to shreds. The only thing that kept him from it was the stark fear in Beth and Emily’s eyes. He couldn’t kill her father in front of her.
“You arrogant pretender,” Jeremy scoffed. “You act as if you actually have a chance.” The older man laughed. Wesley took a step forward only to freeze when an explosion rocked the entire estate.
“Ah, seems my backup has arrived,” Jeremy bragged and motioned Emily to his side. “Bring Beth,” he remind
ed his wife. She dipped her head and took Beth’s bound hands, hauling her daughter to her feet and moved to her husband.
“She’s not going with you,” Wesley snarled and ripped his shirt over his head. Throwing his head back, he opened his growing maw and roared so loudly the ceiling cracked down the center. Jeremy’s eyes widened in horror as he watched the horrific transformation.
Instead of a calm, peaceful shifting, Wesley’s skin exploded from his body, his bones crunching and snapping as his human body morphed into his Dragon. Red hot scales burst from underneath the sinewy muscle and Wesley embraced the pain. He used it to fuel him.
His eyesight shifted from three-dimension to all-encompassing. He saw heat, energy and particles no human could without special equipment. With one hard whip of his head, he knocked Jeremy aside and advanced on Beth and Emily. The latter shrieked in terror and released Beth in order to scurry toward her unconscious husband.
A loud crash from downstairs prompted Wesley to whirl in the direction of the stairs. He was pleased to see his brother had also shifted and was currently headed toward the railing. In one fluid motion, small bat-like wings burst from Lance’s back and he glided over the balcony down into the foyer.
Gunshots and human wails rang out in tune with Lance’s roar and snarls.
“What do we do now?” Beth’s sweet voice rang out below him. Titling his head down, Wesley lowered his head until they were eye-to-eye. He couldn’t shift back and protect her at the same time and he couldn’t communicate with her in Dragon form. They needed to complete the mating ritual now or he risked losing her. Yet, he didn’t want to force himself on her if she didn’t want him.
Throwing his head back, he roared in pain and anguish. He simply didn’t have the energy to shift to human and back to Dragon.
The air grew heavy and rippled around him and suddenly he found himself being thrown across the hallway, his large scaly body colliding with the piano Lance had been playing only minutes ago. He clambered back to his feet and snarled angrily. However, time itself ceased to exist when he gazed at the bronze Dragon Goddess before him.
Cowboy's Barmaid: A Small Town Military Romance (Lucky Flats Ranchers Book 2) Page 63