What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1)

by Jane Cousins

  “That bastard wants to fuck you just to fuck me over.” He spat out the words from between gritted teeth, hating the idea of Welst even looking Stephanie’s way, let alone actively trying to seduce her. Not that he should worry, his Valkyrie could reject Welst even if she only had one digit free to call upon in her defence.

  Stephanie couldn’t help but grin. Bouncing a little on the spot absently in anticipation. “I know, right? It’s awesome.”

  Galen saw red. Stephanie wanted to fuck Welst? The desire to tear down the world hit him like a sledgehammer, and his inner Demon agreed, bursting forth, ready to rend, annihilate and destroy. First stop Welst, then this plane, then every other plane of existence.

  The only thing that saved Demon-kind and all of creation was an unknowing Stephanie grabbing Galen’s hand and squeezing it enthusiastically. “We are going to have so much fun tearing this place up together, we totally should have come sooner.”

  Say what now?

  Chapter Ten

  “Run that by me again? You’re happy about being kidnapped by some asshat Shaman, and transported to the Conflict Demon Realm? Where you are essentially being held prisoner? On top of that, you’re perfectly fine with the idea of fucking my cousin, the Prince of dickwads?”

  “Whoa, no one said anything about fucking your cousin.” Galen’s entire body went from red hot, annihilate the world, to a simmering wait and see setting at Stephanie’s words. “I doubt even those power hungry She-Demons you talked about are willing to go that route, once they’ve met him. No wonder your aunt is dangling you like a prized piñata in front of everyone. I’m guessing you’re like the political equivalent of a unicorn. Unless you have a brother?”

  “No. Seven younger sisters, though I do have over three hundred cousins.”

  Stephanie blinked, processing his words. “And of those relatives, how many are single and of marriageable age?”

  “About one-hundred and fifty. Roughly.”

  “And of that number, how many are dim, pliable, or would do anything for money?”

  “Excepting my sisters, my answer remains the same. Roughly about one-hundred and fifty of them.”

  “So, the question is, why is your aunt so desperate?”

  “Laynn doesn’t do desperate, trust me.”

  Stephanie frowned, shaking her head, suddenly realising she was still holding Galen’s hand. Dropping it quickly, she backed away several feet. “You don’t see it, do you? It must be because you are way too close to all this, and factor in your personal drama-”

  “Going through unmated Knustabber should not fall under the heading of personal drama.”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You’re right, I apologise. I spoke too blithely… but seriously, if you weren’t being such a drama llama, then you’d see that something seriously hinky is going on here. And I’m not talking about your cousin’s desperate and weird need to try and out-Galen you. Please, did you note the shoulder pads?”

  “He wears shou-… Screw that. What are you talking about when you say something hinky is going on?”

  Stephanie stalked around the suite, absently checking all the exits. Hmm, the windows had possibilities but that was a hell of a drop into boiling pools of lava below. “Look, despite you being a Prince and all-”

  “Do not call me that.”

  Oooh, hello hot button, Stephanie hid a smile, you’ll definitely come in handy at a later date. “Do you really think your aunt would waste all her time and resources on you, if something vitally important wasn’t going on here? If it was just about an advantageous political Royal marriage, then she has one-hundred and fifty more easily manipulated candidates to choose from, surely. No, this is about you, Galen. Your Queen had her Shamans searching for you, rather desperately from the looks of things. What, your phone was turned on for less than four heartbeats before that cloaked dude suddenly appeared? They have this suite waiting for you. Stocked with suitable attire.” Stephanie closed the armoire and continued her search of the large space. “They had a squadron of Palace Guards on standby just to meet and greet you in case you had gone full on stabby. Prince Wanker, he was personally waiting to check up on you. Though it’s hard to know if that is because he’s just an asshole or because he has a vested, political interest.”

  Galen ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, shit.” He cast Stephanie a mixed look of admiration and irritation.

  “Talk to me about how succession works for you guys. Is Wanker the automatic heir? Are you like second in line and chomping at his heels?”

  “Whoa, you can discard the idea that anyone considers me a candidate for the throne. I don’t want it and have been very vocal about it. The line of succession is bloodline related. Add another two hundred distant relatives to my immediate three hundred cousins and any of them could rise to the throne if they wished to challenge for it. Including Wanker, I mean Welst. Upon the Queen’s death, or at any stage really, if you want to rule, you declare your hand. If there is more than one candidate interested, then there is a test of strength to determine the outcome.”

  “Are all your relatives in good health? No mysterious deaths?”

  “They’re fine. Look, our Monarchs rule for a very long time. My aunt has been on the throne for over eight hundred years and probably has another four or five hundred good years in her. Yes, she can be a superior, controlling bitch, but ruling over Conflict Demons is no picnic. Everyone would agree that when it comes to the prosperity of our Realm, Laynn has done an outstanding job. She has kept the Morghdorn Horde at bay on our Western Front. Our ability to come and go unfettered by summoning circles, to any plane we wish, has never been more easy and accessible. Taxes are light.”

  “So the question remains, what does she need you, in particular, for so desperately?”

  “Yes, it certainly does raise that question.” Fuck, bloody Knustabber really had knocked him off his game. Why hadn’t he questioned his aunt’s interest in him? In his condition? Probably because she’d been poking her nose into his business for the past few decades and he’d come to expect it.

  Grrr, what the fuck was going on here? Galen’s hands were clenched so tightly into fists he swore he heard his bones creak.

  “Hey, calm down.” Stephanie strode over to Galen, placing a hand lightly on his shirt covered chest in a bid to calm him down. Though there was something about this new, darkly grim side of Galen that was totally revving her lady parts. “Between the two of us we can work this out.”

  Galen unclenched a fist, bringing a hand up to cover Stephanie’s, holding it in place. His cock leaping at the knowledge that she’d reached out and touched him readily, naturally. “I’m kind of surprised. I thought you’d be straining at the bit to find an escape route from this plane and head back to the battlefield.”

  “Please, we both know we have just swapped one plush prison for one with Guards. Besides.” Stephanie found herself smiling. “Just imagine all the fun we can have here discovering what your aunt’s plans are and fucking them up.”

  Galen found himself matching her grin for grin. There was nothing he’d enjoy more than working with his Valkyrie to cause mischief and mayhem. Besides sex that was. Unfortunately, since they had a cocktail party to attend in less than twenty minutes, he didn’t think that was a viable suggestion to make right at this moment. Pity. Though maybe not. Because when they did fuck, he wanted hours to explore all those bodacious curves. “How do you want to do this?”

  Stephanie’s grin, if possible, broadened. She really liked that Galen was asking for her ideas on this. “Okay, first we get ready for this party. Can I take the bathroom?”

  “Absolutely. I’m not changing anyway. I don’t intend to pander to my aunt or any of her hangers-on.”

  Stephanie considered Galen in his current state, a surly expression having settled over his features. What a sweet idiot. If he thought his jaw darkened with stubble would deter the lady Demons, then he had another think coming. It, in combination with his me
ssy, finger combed black hair, made him look entirely disreputable. There wasn’t a female alive of any species who wasn’t a sucker for a bad boy with sinful black eyes that promised to devour good little girls down in one gulp

  By Freyja’s Sword, Galen looked all things brooding and bad right now. The navy, red and white checked shirt clung to his muscular frame, drawing attention to the broadness of his shoulders and with the sleeves rolled up, those powerful forearms of his were on display. The navy trousers highlighted sturdy long, long legs, not to mention that tight, gorgeous ass of his. His strapping six-foot-four frame should have looked incongruous in such an outfit but there was something about the way he wore clothes, he reeked of arrogance and confidence. It made a woman instantly think that he would be hell on wheels in the courtroom and if you were to ever unleash him the bedroom? There he would prove masterful, taking whatever he wanted but giving unforgettable pleasure in return, because he was just so damned skilled at everything he tackled.

  Little shivers of anticipation feathered up and down Stephanie’s spine. Because she finally had something to do, and even better, she and the big lug would still be sharing a large, comfy bed. Surely, amidst all the intrigue and devious plotting, she would catch Galen at a distracted moment and could have her wicked way with him. She just had to stick close to his side and let him know through her actions that she was available anytime, anywhere, for some hot, hot, stress relieving, boot banging fun.

  Feeling a little overheated as her imagination kicked into high gear, Stephanie headed for the bathroom to wash her face, use the facilities, and try and come up with the perfect outfit for this evening’s cocktail party. It was vitally important she set the right tone.

  Galen sat on the edge of the large bed and took several deep breaths. Intent upon re-capturing that state of calm he’d managed to find in the cavern whilst he pursued his Valkyrie. But damn it, either his Knustabber symptoms were escalating. Or the idea his aunt was, for some mysterious reason, trying to use his condition for some as yet undefined nefarious purpose, it was seriously testing his control. It couldn’t just be about having her nephew form an advantageous liaison, could it?

  Sure, he knew Laynn was a political animal first and last. The carefully selected families with eligible daughters invited to his wedding party was proof of that. He suspected those same players would be present at the events over the next few days. All powerful families with either political connections or lots and lots of money.

  But Stephanie was right. There was an inexplicable level of desperation about her actions. She must have had her Shamans scrolling for him constantly day and night, for one of them to arrive so quickly at the cavern to scoop him up. It was obvious this suite had been upgraded specifically with special security features to keep him prisoner. That had to take planning and money.

  It begged the question, why was his aunt so determined to have him present here at the Palace right now? He’d committed to turning up to his wedding party, where he’d promised he would choose a bride an allow the Shamans to magically force a meld upon him. What was so important about a bunch of meet and greet lead up social events?

  Galen’s brain stuttered to a halt as Stephanie exited the bathroom. Bloody hell. No little cocktail dress for her. No, instead the Valkyrie had chosen to wear a tiny, tight black business suit. The cropped jacket snug and fitted, revealing lots of cleavage and a glimpse of a black lacy top. The skirt, a micro mini, displayed those athletic, long legs to perfection, and they looked even longer tonight given she was wearing sky high black stilettos. Hell, every male was going to imagine her wearing those fuck me heels and not much else. It was the way they were wired, no matter their species.

  Her blonde hair was up in its usual sleek, high ponytail. But what really drove him wild was the black wire spectacles she had donned. The clipboard she was holding, was the final piece in the puzzle. She looked so fucking hot, and all he wanted to do was stay in this suite and fuck her. Though he highly doubted the security escort stationed outside the door would allow that. Damn it.

  “I have a sudden overwhelming urge to order you sit on my lap and take a memo.”

  “I’m always up for trying something new.” Stephanie really liked the idea of playing out the fantasy he was suggesting.

  Galen grit his teeth, standing up, looking at his watch, knowing that if they didn’t leave soon, the squadron of Guards lurking outside their door would happily barge in to collect him. A black scowl settling over his features. His interfering aunt had changed the playing field. Stuck here in the Palace, basically a prisoner. Forced to attend ridiculous time wasting parties. He needed to adjust his plans for winning over Stephanie and he needed to do it fast.

  “I suggest you don’t stray too far from my side tonight. Conflict Demons have a tendency to play with newcomers, they won’t be able to help themselves, so watch your back at all times.”

  Stephanie nodded, totally on board with that plan. Because they were stronger as a team, not because she wanted to be in close proximity to take the measure of any Demoness that was contemplating sinking her claws into Galen. She blanked her expression and fluttered her big blue eyes, adjusting the spectacles. “Whatever you say, Mr Darvyn.”

  Fucking hell, and his cock just went supernova hard. This new, agreeable Valkyrie would be the literal death of him. Forget turning stabby. His constantly hard cock was going to give him an aneurysm.

  Ooohh Goddess above, as Galen’s scowl turned thunderous those little flickering shivers returned to race up and down Stephanie’s spine. Discreetly she clutched the clipboard to her chest to hide her suddenly hard as rock nipples. Heavens, if possible, the more time she spent with the perplexing Demon, with more facets than a diamond, the more she found herself wanting him… purely on a physical level.

  Hmmm, she watched him stride towards the double doors, Valkyries might always lead from the front, but damn, with such a tight, gorgeous ass to follow, Stephanie found herself happy to be bringing up the rear. Though disturbingly, she still found she kind of wanted to take a bite out it. Not to be territorial, no way. Just as a means of testing whether it was as tight as it looked. The Valkyrie curse of curiosity striking again.

  * * *

  “Possible potential. But listen to that whistle when she breaths. You’d be smothering her in her sleep before your three-month anniversary.” Stephanie didn’t bother to modulate her voice, or be in any way discreet. Turning slightly, pointing, she drew Galen’s attention to a Demoness in a scarlet, strapless dress, that was closing in on their position fast from the right. “No, you were specific about wanting attractive children and that nose…” Stephanie made a brief note on her clipboard. The She-Demon’s face flushed the same colour to match her dress as she choked on a wave of embarrassment, abruptly ducking and disappearing into the crowd.

  The last thing Galen had been expecting was to enjoy himself at his aunt’s cocktail party. However, thanks to one gorgeous Valkyrie he was having a grand time. Although it was taking all his will-power to keep the expected surly expression on his face and not laugh himself hoarse.

  His poor, blinkered brethren saw nothing but prey when they assessed Stephanie. Oh, they knew she was some kind of supernatural. And the males of all ages couldn’t help but cast constant admiring glances at her cleavage or those long legs. But to a one, they had dismissed her as any kind of threat. Idiots.

  Luckily, Stephanie seemed nothing but amused by his kinds snooty dismissal of her. Continuing to fire off sharp, critical comments like a Gatling gun, spraying the room with bullets. Not just limiting her attention to the wannabe bridal candidates.

  Anytime a pushy, politically motivated parent approached Galen, within seconds his Valkyrie would be peering over her spectacles at some real or imaginary genetic defect she appeared to have found. Issuing loud, officious, tsking sounds, before proceeding to diligently record her findings. The longer the Demon remained near Galen, the more the Valkyrie wrote. As if cataloguing a plethora of
never ending faults.

  The Demon gradually became so distracted by Stephanie’s antics they began to lose the thread of the conversation. Until the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of her pen, and the faint, but clearly audible clicking sounds of disapproval she was making with her tongue. At first the Demon would just begin to shift from foot to foot. Before too long though they would be trying to peer over the top of the clipboard in a vain attempt to see what was being written beside their name. Two minutes later they invariably muttered some inane excuse and rushed away.

  Stephanie was no doubt hell on the battlefield but she was a one-Valkyrie-blitzkrieg at a party. He adored her. The more time he spent with her, the more things he found to admire. Tonight proving she wasn’t just smart, she was devious. Pushing hot buttons all over the place. Getting under even the most hardened of Conflict Demon’s skin effortlessly. Until everyone at the party was twitchy, self-conscious and kind of piss off.

  It was turning out to be one hell of a party.

  He’d been keeping a mental tally. Impressively, she never repeated a defect twice, and was proving remarkably creative in her assessments. For instance, Jasmyn Hyack was, according to Stephanie; too flat-chested. She squinted. Was pigeon-toed. Her left shoulder was an inch and a half higher than her right. And her back left molar had a cavity. Galen assumed Stephanie was only guessing about that last one, but given Jasmyn’s pale face and anxious expression he bet she would be making an immediate appointment with her dentist to double check.

  Sometimes Stephanie liked to give a candidate faint hope, before pulling the judgmental rug out from underneath them. Chastelle Mangor, for example, had received a grudging – pretty – which had caused the Demoness to smile smugly as she zeroed in like a torpedo on Galen’s position. She’d gotten to within four feet of Galen before Stephanie tacked on the words… in the right light. Well, in very, very dim light.