Rachel writhed beneath him, spreading her legs as he neared her sex. Her pussy was wet, ready for his touch. She felt no inhibitions when she was with him. When Douglas caressed her, looked at her, moved over her with graceful intent, she knew she was safe. His smoldering gaze told her he wanted her, a deep and burning need that could barely be contained.
He nipped at her inner thigh, instantly soothing the tiny bite with wet kiss. Douglas licked his way towards the apex of her thighs. Warm, firm lips glided along her slit, as he parted the folds of her sex with his tongue. She moaned softly, knowing she should protest and demand he mind his wounds, but the pleasure of his mouth felt too great. Hair tickled her thigh. She watched his head move between her legs.
He stroked her with his tongue, rubbing the tight bud of her clit with the moist, hard pressure of it. She squirmed and threaded her legs over his back to pull him closer. When he growled, the dark sound vibrated her and her hips jerked violently. He did it again, rubbing harder. His nose skimmed the top arch. His tongue swept up and in, only to return to her clit once more. She grabbed his hair, vaguely aware of the incoherent pleas escaping her lips. She ground against him. Tension built, almost painful in its intensity. And then finally, sweet release. She came, jerking and panting, tensing and kicking. It was too much, and she pushed at his shoulders to back his mouth away. She couldn’t catch her breath.
Wickedly seductive eyes found hers as he finally released her clit from his kiss. He crawled over her. “I like you wet.”
Before she could protest, the unmistakably hard press of his cock found entrance. He thrust into her pussy, filling her trembling sex with the full length of his staff. Douglas began to strain, fucking her in long, gliding strokes. The smooth pull of muscles drew her eyes to his chest. Red had seeped into the bandages, staining the white with crimson streaks. He didn’t seem to notice.
Hips pounded her ass into the mattress. Grabbing a leg, he lifted it over and across his body so that both of her legs lay against one of his hips. The position tightened her pussy’s hold on his cock and he groaned. His words came in hard gasps, “Ah, there. Take me. Take it all.” He grabbed her wrists, pinning her down. As the pleasure built inside her once more, he found his own release. A subtler, gentler climax hit her the second time, building upon the one she’d just experienced.
With a groan, he fell next to her on the bed. Rachel’s heart pounded violently. A smile crossed her features as she straightened her limbs. Then, remembering the red, she turned to Douglas in concern. His eyes were closed and he breathed deeply. Reaching for the bandages, she pulled them back to see his injuries. Though there was blood, she couldn’t find any open wounds where it could have come from. The puckered marks which should have seeped were healed shut.
Douglas’s hand skated up to cover hers, stopping her exploration of him. He didn’t open his eyes. Rachel settled next to him, too drained to move.
Chapter Seven
“Did you look at that list I gave you?” Magda asked, taking her place by William.
William turned his attention from where he stared at the ceiling to the old shifter. “No. There is no need. I think we’ve made our decision.”
“The American?” she frowned. “I had hoped once you got to the United States you would see how distasteful the heathens there are. There is a reason they’re isolated from the rest of us. They’re a wild, dirty lot of half-breeds.”
“This isn’t the dawn of the American War of Independence, Magda. It’s not all peasant colonies and religious outcasts over there.” He frowned. Sometimes she was so old-fashioned that he wanted to drag her kicking and screaming into the modern age. Though, to be fair, he doubted Magda knew how to kick and scream. For a shifter she was very well reserved. Strangely though, she was somewhat of a computer genius. He guessed it came from her insatiable desire to be always informed.
“I’m well aware of the year,” she quipped. “The only thing worse than an American bride, is an Australian one.”
Instead of needlessly informing her that Australia was no longer a prison dumping ground but a thriving continent filled with interesting people, he sighed. “Rachel is special. I think she is up to the task of being queen of the clans.” He almost said she was an omni-shifter, but refrained. That one word would have probably quieted the old woman’s protests, but he would not betray Rachel’s trust. She clearly did not want her gifts to be part of the public record, and that is exactly where Magda would put it. Why else would she claim to be a trout instead of one of the most powerful shifters he’d ever seen?
“Is it settled?”
“Not yet. We have not asked her.” William turned his attention back to the ceiling. He knew what Douglas and Rachel were doing. They’d been up there all night. He tried to cool his jealousy, but it unfurled within him. He wanted to be with her. She should be in his bed. She should be in his arms. She should be his.
William was not born into royalty. He did not have the ease that Douglas seemed to carry when it came to sharing the beautiful Rachel. It had only been a short time and already he burned to possess all of her. What would happen when it came to marriage? When the months turned into years turned into decades? Would the jealous feelings lessen? Become some bearable echo he found other ways to ignore? Or would it eat at him, gnawing away at his heart and his sanity until he went crazy with it, feral? Shifters were not meant to share. Not like this.
“William!” Magda said, none too gently. He blinked heavily, looking at her. “This is what I’m talking about. You cannot afford to be distracted, and you cannot show that you are jealous of the other chief. It will be seen as a weakness. You have to be strong. Do you think the Duncanis chief will show such emotion? No. Listen to me. Find a bride, a lady that you can control yourself around. That is the way to be content in your role. You must suppress the beast within.”
“Lisbetha you mean.” He sighed heavily. The blonde was pretty and knew the aristocratic shifter ways, more so than Rachel. Lisbetha understood the customs and ceremonies. Rachel would have to be taught. William knew the logic in this. But still… He glanced to the ceiling.
“Or Ginger, or Margot, or Fai—”
“For the sake of my ears, please do not name them all again. Chief Douglas does not have such headaches, I am sure of it.” William moaned, rubbing his temple. “Let us first concentrate on who hired St. Joan, and then we’ll worry about the matter of my future bride.”
“She seems small. Are you sure she can give you strong children?” Magda asked in a last effort to dissuade him.
“Magda,” William warned, letting the beast into his voice. She instantly changed the subject.
“We assumed that it was someone wanting to stop you from taking an American bride, or someone wanting your throne, but word has come that the vampire king was not pleased at your swift departure and took it as a slight. He has expressed displeasure and his scorn towards you. The goblin queen is irked that she has not gotten a personal invitation to your court.”
“I thought the goblins were in hibernation.”
“They are, but they will wake up to spread their ill humor.” Magda frowned. “And, incidentally, the fairies have put forth bridal candidates for your consideration. I have already graciously declined and reminded them that the last pairing of shifter and fairy did not end well.”
“Didn’t the shifter…?” William cringed.
“Yes. He tore her asunder during the wedding night. Fairy lust is too potent for the beasts we carry.” Then, getting right back on topic, she said, “So, jealous shifters, vampire king, goblin queen, ah, oh yes, and the witches’ union.”
“The witches’ union?” His head throbbed harder. “What slight have I performed against the witches’ union?”
“The northern factions are generally discontent with everyone. Their attentions will turn from you in fifty years or so, or when word of another accession reaches their ears. Do not worry. All your food is tested and their hexes rarely take hold over ou
r kind. At worse, you can expect a rash.”
William arched a brow, not even wanting to delve into that last comment. Sarcastically, he drawled, “What, no death threats from the chupacabras?”
“No. I think they mostly take their frustrations out on goats and sheep.” Magda sighed. “If you are not going to take me seriously because you can’t turn your mind from the American, then go get her out of your system. I have a ball to plan.”
“A ball?” That got his attention. “I would think you wanted us to lay low.”
“I did. I didn’t ask you to come here instead of the safe house. But as you’re home and with the other chief in tow, it will be expected you show your face in public. Let whoever it is know you will not be intimidated. Security will be tightened.”
Normally, William would be all for confronting this issue head first. That was before he had Rachel to think about. He didn’t want her in harm’s way. This ball was an open invitation to trouble.
“Go,” Magda ordered a little too harshly. Her annoyance was clear. “Take your turn at her.”
“I had thought that after my accession you would have become a little more respectful,” he muttered, pushing to his feet. He couldn’t deny he wanted to see Rachel.
“If you want someone to coddle you like a newborn, find a midwife.” Magda marched away before he could answer.
Sighing, William made his way up the stairs, turning once he reached the top to go to the wing reserved for the Duncanis chief and his traveling escorts. Though now, only two people occupied the hall.
His stomach tight, he hesitantly listened to the distance. With great relief, he didn’t hear sounds of lovemaking coming from Douglas’s room. He quickened his pace. A strange rolling noise sounded at the far side of the hall, coming from around a corner. Then, after a crash, the sound of laughter.
William quickened his pace. As he came to the end of the hall, he heard Rachel scream, “Watch out!”
He leapt back as a ball sped past his feet.
Rachel jogged towards him, looking guilty even as she laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming. We weren’t paying attention.”
When he glanced past her, he saw a grouping of old wooden bowling pins set up in the hallway. Douglas leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and an easy smile over his lips. William stepped aside as Rachel hurried past him to get the wooden bowling ball that had almost tripped him.
“Up for a game, ol’ chap?” Douglas asked.
“We found the set in a trunk,” Rachel said.
“We?” Douglas repeated, arching a brow.
“I found the set in a trunk while snooping through the guest rooms,” Rachel corrected. “He was asleep and I was bored.”
“You could have found me,” William said.
“I’m sure you were busy doing your princely duties. I didn’t want to be a bother,” she answered.
“She didn’t want to face your court,” Douglas corrected. Rachel laughed as if the two of them shared a private joke. William tried to swallow down his jealousy, but it would be impossible to miss the ease with which the other two conversed. What happened during the night they spent together?
“That’s too bad,” William answered, after a long pause. “A ball is being planned in honor of the visiting chief. Apparently, we can’t get out of it. It’s expected.”
“I forgot how much was expected when you’re new to the throne.” Douglas took the ball and hefted back his arm. Giving it a toss, he paused, watching as the old toy wobbled as it rolled towards the pins at a strange angle. Rachel laughed, hitting Douglas’s arm. Douglas’s hand slid over hers briefly. The ball managed to hit a couple of the pins.
William felt like an outsider intruding on a couple’s private moments. Still, he couldn’t force himself to go.
“Well, I think you two will make very handsome dates to the ball,” Rachel said.
“So you will come?” William asked, surprised at her easy acceptance.
“Oh no, I meant for each other. You two will make very handsome dates for each other.” Rachel lifted her hand to brush her fingers over his forearm. He clenched his fist, feeling a tingle erupt beneath his flesh. “I have no intention of going to a royal ball. In fact, I’ve been thinking I’d explore the countryside a little, perhaps London. I’m assuming, of course, if I get into trouble for being here without a passport, you’ll come rescue me.”
“You can’t,” Douglas said. “It isn’t safe.”
“That’s one of the things I’ve come to tell you. My people are working on narrowing down who the threat is.” William sighed heavily. His arms still tingled where she’d touched him. The beast in him wanted to demand its turn. The man in him held the beast back. He repeated the information he’d gotten from Magda about the possible attackers.
“I’m assuming the fairies have sent you bridal candidates?” Douglas asked. William nodded that they indeed had. “Send them on to the Vampire king with your apology. They will be willing and the offering will appease Kristoff’s bloodlust and anger. He has a fiery temper, but he would not hire assassins to do his dirty work. It’s a matter of pride with the vampires. The goblin queen is always irked. It is when she is happy that you have to worry. Do not send her the invite or you will have goblins crawling all over your court until the end of time. They are harder to get rid of than an infestation of spirits.”
“And the witches?” Rachel asked, her face a little pale.
“Could be a problem. Julianne and Bella, known generally as the ‘cursed sisters’, have a thing for causing royal trouble. I don’t see them hiring assassins, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities. Anyway, I’m expecting a call from my people. I’ll have them check into it. The northern factions have festival grounds about seventy-five miles from my home.”
“I think I need to go lie down.” Rachel slowly moved down the hall.
“Rachel?” William asked, not liking the worried look on her face.
“I’m just feeling a little out of it. I just found out that not only are there fairies and vampires, but goblins and witches. I’m assuming they’re magical witches and not, well…”
“Yes, they do practice the old magic,” Douglas answered.
“I guess I spent so much time trying not to act like a shifter, I never stopped to think about what other different things might be out there.” Rachel ran her hands through her hair. “So this is really happening. I’m stuck here with a target pasted to my forehead.”
“No harm will come to you,” William said.
“We promise,” Douglas affirmed.
“Until you find a wife. I can’t imagine the new chieftess will take kindly to your protecting a mistress,” she said, slowly backing from them. “I’m sorry. I need some time alone.”
“Don’t leave the manor,” Douglas said. The words sounded more like an order than a request. Though, to William, much of what Douglas said had a kind of condescension to it, a tone born of his rank and privilege.
Rachel gave a quick salute before turning the corner. William listened to her footsteps. When they faded, he asked, “When should we tell her? I don’t want to wait.”
“I don’t think she’s ready to be asked. She seems fairly certain we will choose another.” Douglas frowned. “When I tried to take her to breakfast, she insisted we hide out instead. I don’t think she’s ready for the attention that such a position will bring. I don’t think she’s ready to admit to our kind that she’s one of us. I don’t want the idea of a future with us to chase her away.”
“A shifter who doesn’t want to be a shifter,” William said, “and with the power she possesses.”
“Perhaps your ball is a good idea. We will introduce her to the court.” Douglas leaned over to pick up the pins. “As our future queen, she’ll need to get used to the limelight.”
*
Rachel stopped, tilting her head to the side. By the sound of the male voices, it was clear they didn’t realize how good her hearing w
as.
As our future queen, she’ll need to get used to the limelight.
Did she hear that correctly? Future queen? From living a private life she loved, to becoming the single, most powerful female shifter on the planet?
A shifter who doesn’t want to be a shifter and with the power she possesses.
They wanted her because of her powers. Didn’t Elvie warn her never to tell her secret? Then again, they were talking about marrying her, not turning her into an experiment.
“Marriage?” she whispered, as the thought fully hit her. Maybe an experiment would be better than that.
She took a deep breath. They both wanted to marry her. Two husbands. Two chief husbands. A small thrill worked through her at the thought of spending her life with William and Douglas. She never expected to want two men. But then reality came crashing around her. What would happen after the fairytale was over? If the fire she felt inside her died? Or their eyes wandered? Shifters generally mated to one person. How exactly did a three-person marriage work for them? Would she bond to one and not the other? The idea of hurting either man didn’t sit well with her. What would happen when the honeymoon ended and she was trapped as some celebrity? Every move would be examined, photographed, watched. She’d never be able to run completely free again. Gone would be the wild dashes through the mountains. Could she take such a leap? Could she give up her privacy and her life?
Her eyes wide, she looked around the empty hall. The Elizabethan style was beautiful and old and reminded her of a museum. People weren’t supposed to live in museums, at least not in real life—maybe in fiction novels, or epic movies, or in historical dramas, but not real life.
She felt the people around her, filling the halls and rooms, walking the gardens outside and running just beyond the fences. It was an energy that pulsed, reminding her of her childhood when Elvie’s home was surrounded by shifters. There was comfort in the sensation, but also a fear.
Everything was happening too fast. She hadn’t known these men long. It was too soon to start thinking about marriage and forever. They were just getting to know each other. They were just having fun. They couldn’t really think to make her choose marriage right away, could they?
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