by Kate Hill
Does he know I am with child already? She glanced to the side and looked at Filip. She had not even told her beloved. I didn’t even tell Maria.
He paused and all those assembled sang “Amen”.
I just wish I knew when. Before or after the curse was broken?
“Now, the Servant of the God, Filip Mircea marries the Servant of the God, Zolona, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” The priest said this three times as if God wasn’t listening the first time and then picked up a marriage crown and moved it in the sign of the cross in front of Filip.
Filip kissed the crown and then her father, acting as wedding godfather, and the priest placed it on Filip’s head.
The priest went through the same words again, this time picking up the other crown and making the sign of the cross with it in front of her face. Zolona kissed the crown and her mother stepped forward to help the priest set it on her head.
“Oh God our Lord, with honesty and grandeur crown them.” The priest took bread and wine, blessed them, and gave them to her and Filip. Picking up a cadenita of burning incense, he made the sign of the cross above their heads.
Filip rose and she stood with him as they began a procession around the altar called the Dance of Isaiah. She followed Filip, who followed the priest with the burning cadenita three times around the altar. Her father and mother followed behind her.
At the end of their third trip around the stone, the priest again asked the blessing of God upon Filip. At the end of his prayer, Filip made the sign of the cross three times and bowed his head. The wedding godfather and priest removed the crown and placed it on the holy book.
Zolona had to endure yet another lengthy prayer before she too was allowed to have the crown removed.
She breathed a sigh of relief when it was over and Filip kissed her for the first time as his wife. “I love ya, Zolona,” he whispered.
“Nu less than my love for ya, my shadow-time lover.” She gave him a hug. They followed the cobblestone path from the Wedding Chapel back to the castle and the beginning of the wedding feast.
Author’s Note
For centuries, Romania has been a battleground, a chess piece upon the table of political power and economical plunder for surrounding neighbors. It wasn’t until the Treaty of Trent at the end of WWI, and the Treaty of Craiova, at the end of World War II that the present-day Romania came into being.
In the early history of Romania, there were three main provinces—Valachia, Moldavia, and Transylvania. The majority of Transylvania was, after many years of bloodshed, controlled by Hungary/Germany. The remainder of Romania was sought after by the Ottoman Empire of Turkey and what is today Russia. Eventually, after years of paying tribute, Vlad Dracula broke Ottoman power over Romania in the 1400s. In 1477 Vlad Dracula was slain in a battle with the Turks.
This is a partial listing of the leadership history of Romanian Provinces:
Basarab I…1324-1352…Valachia
Bogdan I…1359-1365…Moldavia
Mircea the Old…1386-1418…Valachia (Grandfather of Dracula)
Vlad Dracul…1430-1477…Valachia (Father of Dracula)
Vlad Draculea (Dracula)…1448 (two months) He was overthrown and lived in exile in Transylvania and Moldavia until 1456 when he gained power and ruled Valachia until 1462. In 1462, he was imprisoned in Hungary. In 1476, Vlad was released to again rule over Valachia and fight against the Ottoman Empire. He was killed in battle two months later.
About the author:
Romance Author R Casteel retired from the US Navy in 1990. He enjoys the outdoors, loves to scuba dive, and is a Search and Rescue Diver. With twenty years of military service, which included experience as flight crewman, search and rescue, and four years as a Military Police Officer, it is of little wonder that his books are filled with suspense and intrigue.
As to his ability to write romance, Gloria for Best Reviews writes "I had thought Leigh Greenwood was the only man who wrote wonderful romance...I was wrong...Rod Casteel is right there too!"
Mr. Casteel lives in his hometown of Lancaster, Missouri, and would love to hear from you.
Mr. Casteel welcomes mail from readers. You can write to him c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.
Also by R. Casteel:
Mistress Of Table Rock
Tanieka: Daughter Of The Wolf
Texas Thunder
The Crimson Rose
The Toymaker
A Matter of Duty
Elizabeth Jewell
Chapter One
Piper woke slowly, a pale shaft of light touching her face. Today was the day.
Two years. As of today, she and Trey had been married for two years. Not perfect years, but she hadn’t expected or asked for perfection. She had asked only for love, and had not been disappointed.
It had been unexpected, but the best things often were. When he had appeared in her favorite bar wearing the face of her dead lover, she had gone home with him on an ill-conceived whim, hoping for little more than a quick, mindless fuck, something to take her mind off what she had lost when Billy had killed himself. Instead she had found Trey.
The ensuing weeks had been strange, frightening, and exhilarating. Discovering Trey’s true identity, his position in the secretive and highly organized shapeshifter community, discovering his gifts, seeing what he could do, what he was—she could now rate these as some of the most bizarre experiences of her life. And the most important, because they had brought her here. Here where she lay next to the man she loved, he wearing the face they had chosen together.
Two years. It was hard to believe, but it was true. She smiled to herself, treasuring the knowledge and the sense of comfort and safety it provided. Twenty-four months. 730 days. The warm bulk of him in her bed. His voice, his touch, the particular smell of his skin. Her Trey.
He moved next to her, rolling over to face her.
“Morning,” he said, his voice languid and sultry. “Happy Anniversary.”
She smiled back. There was nothing quite as beautiful as Trey in the morning, tousled and golden, with that bleary, not-quite-focused look in his eyes. She moved a little closer to him and leaned in for a kiss.
“Happy Anniversary.”
She kissed him, slow and sleepy, taking her time. His tongue traced hers gently, without demands.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth, and she smiled and kissed him again.
“Love you, Trey.”
He put an arm around her, pulling her close. Content, she nestled into his chest and closed her eyes.
He didn’t quite smell human. She had noticed this about him early on; there was a prickly tanginess to his scent, rather like a citrusy deodorant soap. It was subtle, she had barely even noticed it until they had moved in together. Now it seemed to permeate everything from the bed to his clothes to the very air of the apartment. It didn’t bother her—it was just different. It was Trey.
She nestled into the familiar embrace, the familiar smell. She could honestly say she had never been so happy. Trey shifted, holding her closer, his hands sliding down her body.
“So,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “who do you want this morning?”
“Trey. I want Trey.”
He laughed. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, thumbs toying with her rising nipples. “We talked about this.”
“I know we did. I wasn’t really listening, though.”
He slid firm, flattened palms down her belly until they lay nestled against her hipbones. “Anyone,” he said. “Anyone you like.”
“I like Trey.” She was being deliberately stubborn; she knew it annoyed him.
“And Trey is glad for that.” He snuggled her closer. “But today Trey wants to gift you.”
Piper smiled. Trey’s hips were tight up against her now; she could feel the ridge of his erection prodding into her groin. “Then Trey can start by gifting me with Trey.” Before he c
ould protest, she added, “We can see where it goes from there.”
He nodded and kissed her again. His mouth was warm and firm and he explored her, lips and tongue moving rhythmically against hers. She opened to him, let him in. He tasted like early morning lust. Her fingers laced into his hair, shifting his head so that his mouth slanted against hers.
She delved into his mouth for a time, tasting the planes and corners. She loved the way he kissed, with enthusiasm and something almost like curiosity, though he’d kissed her a thousand times since they’d met. His hands moved over her body as if he were learning her, as if he’d never touched her before, the tips of his fingers drifting over her skin, leaving trails of longing in their wake. She looked into his eyes, into the clear, crystalline blue, the tiny mole on his lower left eyelid.
Every once in a while it still occurred to her to consider the artistry, the care, that had gone into the construction of this face. His true face, the raw, unformed Trey, was blank, hairless, blunt. It was second nature to them, though, to reconstruct a human form in every imaginable detail. Shapeshifters did it as easily as breathing.
He bent toward her and kissed her again. Perfectly detailed, down to the pattern of the taste buds on his tongue. He was perfection, but with all the necessary flaws to make him human. His mouth perhaps a little too small for his face, the lines across his forehead a bit deeper than one might expect in a man his apparent age. His hands were square and solid, his touch confident and sure.
She surrendered to that touch, letting herself go lax under his skilled ministrations. He knew exactly how and where to touch her—he always had, another skill inherent to his race. It was a kind of surface mind reading, the same skill that had allowed him to recreate himself as Billy when he and Piper had first met. It hadn’t been quite enough, though, for him to discover that Billy was dead. Otherwise, he never would have worn the other man’s face.
It had forced them together—the ancient rules of the shapeshifter community demanded that Trey basically give himself to Piper, once she understood what he was, and that he had approached her in false pretenses.
She didn’t mind that he’d lied to her. She hadn’t even then, because she’d known full well he wasn’t Billy. She wondered from time to time what it might have been like if Billy hadn’t been dead, if he had approached her in the guise of another lover, one who had only broken her heart. But if that had been the case, they wouldn’t be together now.
He cupped her breast, his thumb pressing gently into her nipple, rolling it. Heat burgeoned in her at the touch. She shivered, warm, slick heat growing between her legs. She opened under him, embracing him with her legs. He settled down between her thighs, the hard ridge of his erection rubbing into her. God, but she wanted him inside. Now. Hard and fast.
Bending his head, he tongued her nipple, toying with the erect bud, scraping it gently with his teeth. He kissed down the side of her breast, to the valley between, then back up, until his tongue touched the other nipple. She closed her eyes as his tongue curled around her, feeling the soft friction, the slightly rough texture of his tongue. He sucked, laved, and fire flooded her, shooting down her body, straight to her groin. She pulsed there, her labia thick and heavy, her sex opening, ready. So hot, so deep…
He lifted his head from her breast and lifted himself over her, his tongue trailing up her neck, over her chin. His lips brushed hers, ever so lightly. At the same time, his hand slipped down her stomach, moving her nightgown out of the way, his fingers moving under the elastic of her panties. She pushed up toward him, drawing his fingers down, almost into her. He opened his eyes, sapphire glinting from between golden lashes. A smile curved his mouth.
“I want you,” she murmured. “You.”
He smiled a little. She knew she perplexed him in her insistence that he maintain his usual form when they made love. He could be anyone—the Hollywood hunk du jour, her greatest fantasy, the man she’d had a crush on in college… He didn’t understand why she so rarely took advantage of that.
She wasn’t even sure she could have given him a coherent answer, if he ever came out and asked. It seemed wrong to her, though, to want this man and that man, and not the man—the face he chose to present to the world—when they shared these intimate moments. It was like cheating on him. Except with him…
No point puzzling it all out, because it would never make any sense. Instead she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation of his fingers gently invading her, separating the lips of her sex, dipping into the deep, hot core of her. She pushed her hips against him, drawing his fingers inside her. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her against him as she rode his hand, pounding herself down on him. He added a third finger, filling her deeply. Fire flooded her; he curled the tips of his fingers just so, finding the exact place inside her that made her entire body fill with harsh stilettos of desire.
“Trey—” she managed, but even the single syllable was lost as her body suddenly clenched, leapt, then flew, orgasm ripping through her from cunt to fingertips. She let out a deep, ragged moan.
She heard him laugh, then suddenly his fingers slid out of her and he pressed in hard and deep with a cock that felt thicker, more blunt, than it had last time. He always did that. She didn’t ask him to change his face, or his body, so he altered his cock. She’d had it long, slim, curved, straight, thick, blunt… She actually hadn’t thought penises could come in such great variation until she had been exposed to Trey’s remarkably imaginative shapeshifting ability.
It was short suddenly, short and thick. She pressed her calves against his ass, urging him closer, deeper. He thrust hard, and as he did so, his cock changed shape, lengthening with each stroke, until it was lodged deep and firm inside her, filling her completely. He pressed into her a few times that way, so big she could barely contain him. The deep, intense friction drove her near to the heights again, enflaming her, until finally she keened out her pleasure, digging her fingers hard into his shoulders as he fucked her.
He changed then, the bulk of his shaft slimming until he slid easily in and out of her, still filling her, but not overwhelming her body. She moved with him, working herself on him, her inner tissues sensitized now from the too-bulky shaft that had just invaded her. The combination drove the sensation to a nearly unimaginable peak, higher and higher—then he reached between them, and touched her…
His finger brushed over her clit and she fell apart, shuddering and crying out, her body caught in a long, slow pulsation of ecstasy. As her body arched, he slid an arm under her, supporting her, his mouth finding hers, taking in the sounds of her climax. She was lost, open beneath him and falling to pieces, but he held her together, cradling her in her vulnerability.
She let out a long, slow breath, shivering. He kissed her one last time, then slid deep into her. She felt him pulse inside her, felt his body coil and then relax slowly, as he, too finished.
“I love you,” he whispered, touching her face as the last of his climax was wrung from his body.
She smiled. “I love you, too.” Looking down, she touched him gently, tracing his flagging erection with her finger. “Again?”
He grinned. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Preferences?”
“Surprise me.”
The expression on his face was more than worth it. He loved using his skills to please her, loved showing what he could do. She couldn’t help returning his enthusiasm with smugness, though, because what she’d asked him to do would benefit her more than it would him.
Trey leaned back in the bed, resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes. Piper rolled onto his chest and kissed him, his nipples, the concavity between his pectoral muscles, down onto his belly, to the soft smatter of light brown hair there, down to his navel. Her fingers massaged his cock as she moved, feeling it soften, easing around the shaft as it lost turgidity and slowly deflated.
And changed.
It shrank back into his body, changed sha
pe, widening, opening, the sensitive tissue reconfiguring into soft lips, an open channel, a hardening clit. Piper kissed him, low on his abdomen, at the crease where belly became groin, right above the brown triangle of hair.
She’d done this before, and more than once, but she still always found it hard to begin. He changed so much when he shifted, not just the shapes of his body, the transformation of his sex from male to female, but the texture, the smell—everything was different. Turning her head, she nuzzled the rough hair against her cheek, closing her eyes, taking in all the different sensations. Her lips brushed Trey’s skin as it softened, feminized. When she looked up, she saw a different body, breasts bulging up from a narrower chest, and Trey looked down at her with the face of a woman she recognized.
He’d chosen an actress again, someone Piper had seen on TV recently, and had commented the woman was attractive and not overly thin, like so many actresses and models. Piper liked a fuller-bodied woman—and that was something it had never ever occurred to her to think about, at least in sexual terms, until she’d met Trey.
His—her—hand came down to caress Piper’s hair, and Piper obligingly dipped her head, pressing Trey’s now-female legs open to slip her tongue between the warm, salty labia.
Even his voice had changed, gasping in a thoroughly female range as Piper explored the newly formed, perfectly textured cunt with her mouth and tongue, sliding her fingers along the smooth, hot skin, pushing two inside to feel the depths of a channel that grew and widened as she penetrated it, both from arousal and from Trey’s purposeful transformation.
Licking and thrusting, Piper worked Trey’s newly transformed body, feeling thighs, belly and cunt shiver under her ministrations, absorbing the by now familiar scent of his female arousal. But she’d learned how to work him, and while it had never occurred to her before she’d tried it that she might enjoy pleasuring another woman’s body, she enjoyed this immensely. Of course, the fact she knew the body beneath her was Trey helped, but didn’t change the fact that she was going down on a woman.