by Jaymin Eve
Queen Heir
NYC Mecca Series Book 1
By: Leia Stone and Jaymin Eve
Table of Contents
Chapter One - The tolling of the bells, long live the Queen.
Chapter Two - Do or die. That’s the Summit’s motto.
Chapter Three - Never trust a bear.
Chapter Four - Power drunk is worth the hangover.
Chapter Five - Dangerous waters surround the Island.
Chapter Six - A bear load of trouble.
Chapter Seven - Two strikes and you’re dead.
Chapter Eight - The darkness in the deep.
Chapter Nine - The crown of mecca.
Chapter Ten - Never look a gift bear in the mouth.
Chapter Eleven - Revenge is a fickle stone to throw.
Chapter Twelve - The dead tell tall tales.
Chapter Thirteen - A bear’s den is no place for a wolf.
Chapter Fourteen - Fee Fi Fo Fae.
Copyright © 2016 by Leia Stone and Jaymin Eve. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced. Stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, live or dead are purely coincidental.
Stone, Leia
Eve, Jaymin
Queen Heir
For information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book go to www.leiastone.com or www.Jaymineve.com
[email protected]
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To the king or queen in all of us. May you leave behind a legacy that others will remember.
Chapter One
The tolling of the bells, long live the Queen.
The first thing my subconscious registered was the tolling of the bells, a distinct plucking twang which surged through my alpha bond. I’d heard it only a few times in my life, mostly during times of unease within the boroughs. It was a special form of communication the queen of the wolf shifters could use with her heirs and alphas. But this twang was different. Weaker almost.
Shaking off the last of my sleepiness, I finally registered the true nature of the call and surged upright, eyes wide and heart hammering in my chest. The mental bells finished their tolling then, dying off with one last clank, like that of a final nail into a coffin. My wolf rose up within me and both of us let out a long howl, echoing across the room. Pain strummed inside me, sharp and metallic. Every part of me felt it, the loss of power, the emptiness where there used to be a tie to my queen.
“Arianna!”
Calista’s voice cut through my howls as she burst into my room. I had to take many deep breaths to push my wolf down. Acting on autopilot, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rose, hurriedly crossing the room and meeting my advisor halfway.
“Arianna,” Calista said again, softer this time, more unsure.
“The queen has fallen,” I said. The words singed my tongue as they crossed it; everything would change now. The world as we knew it would descend into chaos if a new queen wasn’t crowned quickly.
Calista’s head fell to her chest then and I could feel her surge of emotion through our pack ties. “I can feel the emptiness … but are you sure? How has this happened?”
As an advisor to multiple heirs throughout her long life, Calista had been through a lot and had seen it all. She was one of the strongest women I knew and her voice still wavered.
Closing my eyes, I reached out through my alpha bond to my pack, the thousand-plus shifters of the Bronx borough in New York City who were at my command. It took mere seconds to double-check what I already knew. The bond that bound me to my queen was severed and the mecca power that had once coursed from her to me was leaking everywhere. The chimes … they must have been her last attempt to reach out to us. She had literally just taken her last breath.
Tears pricked the back of my eyelids, and yet I knew I would never let them fall. There was no room for my weakness today. I could already feel the dissidence within the packs. The power grid, which balanced our world, the mecca, was weakened.
Opening my eyes, my wolf rose again, this time in response to the unease of my people.
“How did this happen?” I said, unable to stop the low growl from leaking out. “Find out how this happened!”
Calista was used to me when I got like this, and barely blinked as she whipped out her huge tablet device and started scrolling.
“I have no details yet, Your Majesty. There’s literally nothing in the alerts.” She paused for a moment. “Wait … a summons has just come through. We have to leave immediately. Looks like you’re going to find out what happened from the council.”
My steps faltered at her use of Your Majesty. I had known Calista my entire life, she always referred to me as “Alpha,” Arianna, or “pain in the neck,” never “Your Majesty.” Yes, I was an heir, but the queen could theoretically live forever and there were only a few years I was even eligible for the crown, so we never took my lineage too seriously, never thought I would be queen. Now I was one of four in the running to be the next ruler of the entire wolf-shifter race and the three boroughs we controlled, and protocol dictated everyone refer to me as royalty. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but there was no time to ponder it.
My eyes shot to her tablet again. I hated that she had no details. The other three heirs would already be preparing themselves to take the crown, but my main concern was on what had happened to the queen. She was powerful, one of the strongest leaders we’d ever had. They said her lineage could be traced directly back to the time of the Tuatha de Danann, the fae who’d initially built the mecca millennia ago, before they all disappeared and were rumored dead. And now she had fallen. Could the bears have done this? Did they kill my queen?
Was war now coming for us all?
Calista hurried off, ducking into my huge walk-in closet and emerging moments later with a pile of pressed and folded clothes in her hands. Official dress code was apparently required for this summons. She handed them to me, and wasting no time I dashed into the bathroom and struggled into the black leather pants, knee-high leather boots, and red silk shirt with crossed swords and star-shaped insignia denoting me as an heir to the throne of the red house – the same house of the fallen queen. The moment the true queen fell, the Summit began, and I needed to play my part or my entire race would weaken. After tucking the shirt in and brushing my teeth, I strode from the room to find Calista looking at me with pride.
“I’ve waited twenty years to see you wear that.”
I gave her a tight smile and turned my back to her so she could braid my long white-blond hair.
To be honest, I was hoping this day would never come. I liked my life. Being the Bronx alpha and heir to the queen afforded me all the power and luxuries I could ever need. I had no real desire to go after the throne and be thrust into the political arena, not to mention carry the burden of ruling tens of thousands of our kind. But if the queen had been killed, it was only a matter of time before the bears stepped in and tried to wrest our territory from us. The loss of power would be devastating to my people.
New York City, and the five boroughs inside of it, was a magical hotspot of power. Early shifter leaders had learned that whomever was strong enough to rule was strong enough to join with the mecca. They could then share this energy with their entire race and strengthen the shifters’ naturally occurring gifts of speed, healing, and strength.
My people ruled Manhattan, the Bronx, and Queens. The bear shifters ruled Staten Island and Brooklyn. Being at the seat of power in one of the five boroughs trickled out into the entire race around the world, and since we ruled three of the five we were the strongest. Although, even with two seats, the bears were a close second on the power grid. Over the years the bears had been our allies and our enemies. Depending on their king at the time. But right now they’d surely be gearing up to attack.
Without the bonds of a queen, we were vulnerable for the first time in a hundred years. The bears would be ready to claim another borough for themselves and tip the power scales in their favor. The only hope of stopping them was for one of us four females, all alpha heirs, to win the Summit, take the crown, and become the next queen.
“Where’s Finn?” I said, suddenly missing the presence of my white wolf familiar.
Calista didn’t reply. She knew Finn and I were bound and that I simply needed to calm my erratic energy and focus on our link.
The queen has fallen, I told him, and tried to sense where he was.
I know. I’m coming, he sent back, and I was filled with his warmth, power, and steadfastness. He was in Central Park, hunting. He liked to chase the birds and squirrels there in the summertime, while I slept. Finn had no need for sleep; he was a magical creature that none of our history books could explain. When a young shifter is born, their heir status and royal lineage is confirmed by the presence of a familiar. If they have the power to take the throne, a few days or weeks after that infant’s birth, an animal appears. For me it was Finn, the white menacing wolf who stood over four and a half feet tall and resembled a small horse in stature. In my age group, the other three heirs had a snowy white owl, a huge, thick and insidious snake, and a hawk.
Royal heir familiars stay in service until death. I rubbed the teeth mark scar on my right wrist, seeking comfort from the familiar shape and texture. That’s where Finn had bit me on my fifth birthday, the day we were bound. Ever since then we could share words and thoughts into each other’s minds.
If I died, so too would my familiar. It doesn’t work back the opposite way, but that didn’t really matter. His soul was bound to mine and if he died I would go crazy, unable to function. I would not be dead, but neither would I desire to live.
Thankfully, familiars were nearly impossible to kill.
“Ready?” Calista asked me when she was done braiding my white-blond hair into an intricate braid crown. Shaking off my thoughts of Finn, I nodded, facing her fully. For once she looked vulnerable, my fiercest advisor who had one time encouraged me to rip off a rogue wolf’s manhood for raping one of my females. Now she looked … scared. The emotion made me uncomfortable.
“There is no place for fear in the Summit,” I said, my voice low.
Her chin jutted up, jaw clenched, as she nodded. When I turned my back to leave, I allowed myself my own moment of vulnerability. I knew why Calista was afraid. She feared I would die. I’d trained my entire life for this series of tasks, battles, and tests of strategy, but the danger of death during the Summit of the four heirs was very real.
I never seriously thought I would get to this moment.
I left through the double doors of my master bedroom, striding across the hall and out into the main area of my top-floor penthouse. My dominants were waiting, all six of them already suited for battle, two females and four males. It pained me not to have Violet here, my best friend and the Bronx pack’s rare and only magic born. The Red Queen had sent Violet to London on official business and she would not be back for a few more days. There were only four magic-born wolf shifters in all the world, so Violet was often called on for help in other countries.
My dominants closed in around me. They were on high alert.
“You think we’ll have trouble on the way?” I inquired of Blaine, standing at the fore.
The husky alpha wolf with deep auburn hair was one of my oldest friends and the commander of my dominants. Squaring his shoulders, he said: “You have just become one of the most valuable women in the shifter world. We’re not taking any chances.”
My heart stilled. That really put it into perspective for me. The entire shifter world would be watching, waiting on this outcome. If one of the four heirs didn’t rise to power, then the wolves around the world would weaken and the bear king would certainly leave Staten Island and invade our territory, stealing our power. I wouldn’t let that happen. No, the Red Queen’s legacy would live on.
Some of the panic must have crossed my face because Blaine reached out then, before catching himself. Touching me as an heir had never been a problem, but protocol dictated that no one touch the queen. She could touch them but not the other way around. I fell under this royal banner now, so I closed the distance, squeezing his hand.
“You were born to be queen,” Blaine said as he leaned in closer to me. “None of the other heirs even have a chance. Just think back to all the times you kicked my ass in combat, and in mecca chess. You got this.”
I smiled and, with a nod, pulled my hand back, feeling more grounded. He’d reminded me that I was still the same shifter I had been twenty minutes ago, before the entire world changed. I had trained for this and I was ready.
Calista was at my side, so I quickly asked: “Is Winnie accounted for?” My little sister was only five, and since the death of our mother I’d taken over the role of her protector.
“Still asleep,” Calista said. “I have given instructions for her to be locked in with her advisor and royal guard until further notice.”
I nodded. Winnie would hate the house arrest, but it was for the best; she was a vulnerability for me now. I let my eyes linger on her closed door before shutting a steel trap over my emotions. I couldn’t think of anything else except the Summit.
“Let’s get moving,” I barked. I knew Finn would meet up with me no matter where I was. Nothing kept him from me when he wanted to be at my side. As we passed through the door and into my personal elevator, I caught my reflection in the mirrored doors.
I look like a queen.
The red silk collar of my shirt was so prominent against the white-blond of my hair, done up in Calista’s braid crown. The bright shirt also contrasting against my alabaster skin, inherited from my Danish and Norwegian mother. I never knew my father, but I was told his heritage was Polynesian islander. Which explained my dark lashes and brows, and what some have called disconcerting turquoise eyes. Right now those turquoise eyes were pinched in anxiety and my alabaster skin was washed out. I might have been dressed like a queen, but I didn’t feel like one.
Calista followed me closely as we took the elevator down to the ground floor. My home was in the penthouse of an eight-story high-rise with over 160 units that housed my most dominant wolves and their families. Although it was built in the early 1900s, it was completely modernized. It was one of the first things I’d insisted on when I inherited it at my rightful age of sixteen.
“Talk to me, Calista.” My voice was brisk as I strode from the elevator and out into the underground car park. “What should I expect? Have you been briefed at all?”
An heir’s advisor lived for this moment, to coach an heir through the Summit. They trained their entire life for it. I glanced down at her. I was five foot ten and she was at least five inches shorter, petite and pretty, with short, pixie-styled brunette hair, and large dark brown eyes. She held nothing in her hands, and was dressed simply in jeans and a tank, but underneath the cute packaging my advisor had ninja skills and a brain like a supercomputer. Her photographic memory stored information in perfect and precise order, so I knew any data would be relayed to me succinctly and with a hundred percent accuracy. Which was important in this situation. The slightest slip-up would be viewed as weakness and used against me. I needed a sharp advisor who could make life or death decisions in a second. Calista was the best in the five boroughs. Over a century old, though she looked barely twenty-five, she had advised many past heirs, and out
of the four heirs of this age she had chosen me. She came from a long line of royal advisors and I was grateful to have her in my camp now.
“The alert just said that the queen has fallen and all alpha heirs are called to the Summit. Time is of haste.”
No doubt the old farts on the queen’s council were being deliberately obtuse. They were powerful but at the constant whim of a queen who would always be stronger. They had to take their little shows of dominance where they could.
“Well then,” I said to my people, who were all standing at attention, waiting for me to enter the sleek vehicle first. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
As we traveled the three miles to the closest magical teleportation area, the vortex, I tried to focus my thoughts. I had been trained for pretty much anything I could encounter in the Summit. Combat. Magical studies. Etiquette. I even knew which damn spoon and fork to use in a setting of fifty. If I was the victor and took the crown, it would be my duty to rule all wolf shifters and to mate with a strong alpha.
Heirs were only eligible for the crown between the ages of sixteen and thirty. If you were over thirty and the queen fell, you were exempt from the Summit and you would never rule. This order was put in place hundreds of years ago by the council as it was thought to be the prime age for breeding and best age of cognitive function. After thirty, the wolf-shifter miscarriage rate tripled. Personally I felt like it was just the council’s way of controlling the heirs, to get them young and manipulate them to their way of thinking. There were more than a few heirs in the Bronx right now who would be disappointed that they were either too young or had passed the age of thirty.
Of course, once you started to think about the Summit itself, they might actually be the lucky ones. At least they’d always be heirs, afforded plenty of rights and luxuries as their royal blood dictated. The heirs who went into the Summit ended up as queen, dead, or a failed heir.