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  “I’m sure Meira and Rameranselot will be delighted by your sentiment,” the sorcerer says, smiling as she pulls me down the steps away from the throne. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our conversation, we really must be going.”

  We are a mere step past the throne room doors when Ethpeal giggles. It’s a sound that normally lifts my heart, but my rising anger—aimed at my poor grandfather—won’t allow me to smile.

  “He’s not exactly the subtle type, is he?” She pulls me against her side, arm around my waist. “And you’re such an old maid, my dear, can you blame him?”

  I turn my head to meet her laughing eyes. “You’re teasing me.” Sometimes I find it difficult to pick up the nuances of Syd’s family. Their constant prodding makes me shake my head.

  “Of course I am,” Ethpeal says, pulling me to a halt outside the front doors of the palace. “Listen to me, Charlotte.” Where once laughter bubbled, now serious worry looms, her blue eyes locking on my gaze. “If anyone knows the pressure of marrying for power and honor, it’s the Hayle family.” I nod as she goes on. “And the last thing you want is to endure what we’ve endured.” Ethpeal’s true love didn’t come to pass until after she spent seventeen years locked in insanity, after giving the majority of her life doing everything for the good of her family. Our lives are parallel, indeed. “You’re only twenty-seven, Charlotte. There’s no hurry.”

  “Convince my grandfather of that,” I growl, the wolf in me snorting agreement.

  Ethpeal laughs again, moment over, still holding me near. “Not my job,” she says. “I know you’ll figure it out.” She suddenly smells of mint and stone. “Just trust and believe in yourself. And don’t let anyone push you into something you don’t want to do. Ever.”

  I hug her, rush of emotion so powerful I can’t control it. I never know if I should embrace this oddity born of my association with the Hayle witches. There was a time showing what I felt to anyone meant certain ridicule and harsh punishment. It has taken me time to adjust, but this part of my freedom I enjoy most of all.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  She hugs me in return before turning to gesture into the night. The Steam Union agreed long ago not to use their sorcery inside the palace, a simple concession to our shed shackles under the yoke of the Black Souls. And though I personally consider it an unnecessary requirement, my fellow weres seem content with this show of their power, keeping sorcery outside the main palace. Werewolves so love to flex their muscles.

  I enter the black tunnel still holding her hand, the handles of the gift bag in my other. I hope Ethpeal doesn’t feel the sudden rise of heat in my skin, or mind the slick sweat I can’t hold back as we enter the dark hole in the air. It reminds me keenly of my near death, the pull of the sorcery inside the gap drawing at my very soul.

  The trip is over in a moment, but I’m as shaken as always. It’s one of the times I’m grateful for the Charlotte who learned to hide herself from the world, the mask of detachment sliding over my face as we step out and into the park behind Syd’s house. Ethpeal reaches for the bag in my hand, liberating me from its soft weight.

  “I’ll spare you the walk through the crowd,” she says. How well she knows me.

  I let her precede me, grateful she is willing to navigate to the center of the party for me, allowing me to remain in the outskirts, my favorite place now. There was a time when I guarded Syd I had to be in the middle of everything. But I had her as my focus. Now, alone and with my own title, I often found myself overwhelmed by the greetings and neediness of the coven who only wanted to be close to me while I just had to escape them.

  Ethpeal disappeared through the hedge as I squared myself for the next few hours. The moment I move to follow, I stop. Pressure builds on the back of my neck, the weight of eyes on me. I spin, tense and ready to fight. But there is no one, nothing there, only the quiet park, the silence of the trees and I shake my head at myself.

  Looking for trouble, maybe? The distraction would be welcome. If only to suppress my acceptance my grandfather is right. I’ve been shirking my responsibilities, putting aside the safety and well-being of my people in my longing for someone I can never have.

  Sage. How had I allowed things to go so far? My hands relax at my sides from the unconscious fists I’ve made in response to the perceived threat. The only thing standing behind me is regret I haven’t acted sooner and just let him go.

  Resolved to end things and finally move on, I step across the border into Syd’s yard.

  ***

  Chapter Four

  This location is so familiar to me, I finally crack a smile through my disorientation. Ethpeal is long gone into the crowd through the worn path in the hedge and into the yard beyond. Lights flood over me, hung from the trees draping themselves across the property. Mixed scents hit like an assault, overpowering perfume from some of the gathered witches, dirt taste from the deep magic of the Wild Hunt buried under the ground. The tang of bodies and the sharp zing of the bowl of punch I pass make my mouth water and my stomach churn in equal measure.

  The sun has just set here in this part of the world, the air shuddering shadows as vampires appear. I glide the edge of the gathering, nodding to Sunny Wilhelm, the queen of her clan, but avoid her as she smiles and waves to me. I’m in no mood to chat with the beautiful vampire leader, nor with anyone else. I only wish to find a quiet corner and contemplate the method with which I will break two hearts over a love affair that should never have been.

  I find a quiet place to perch and observe, a chair pulled to the corner near the mouth of the drive, allowing the false face of calm to slip over me, the well-known embrace of old training hiding the churning worry hiding behind its walls. I observe everything with my wolf-sharpened senses, more habit than out of need to protect the ones gathered here. Doing so makes it easier for me to focus on what I have to do, rather than on what I wish with all my heart I could do.

  Sage’s engaging smile warned me the moment we met. Syd believed my animosity toward her martial arts teacher came from my irritation at her demands to learn to protect herself. The contrary was more the thing. The instant Sage’s green eyes met mine, the rich, flavorful scent of him carrying through me on a wave of deliciousness, I felt myself tumble into emotions I’d never harbored before and, terrified by what they could mean, I only showed him coldness and flat annoyance while my true self’s curiosity drew me back again and again.

  One time too many, long after Syd stopped working with him, in fact. My hands twitch in my lap, the only outward sign I give my mind is engaged in memory, as I play over the moment I finally understood what I was feeling.

  He was alone in the dojo that night, cleaning up behind the last of the customers. And I was drawn to that place, to observe him as I had been for weeks. This time he noticed me, beckoned me inside, and some strange need carried me to him.

  We ended up sparring, though I don’t remember why and, when the fight fired the wolf in me to different passions, I released my fear of what my feelings might mean and took him to bed. From the very first night, he was gentle and loving, as demanding as I when the need arose, but thoughtful in every act, in each touch.

  My heart quivers as I pull myself from the thrall of memory. Love. That’s the new emotion I felt that night, and every night I spent with him since. No wonder I felt so afraid. And still am.

  Her summery scent breaks my concentration, the rippled feeling of her magic perking my wolf and lifting my head. Syd sits down beside me on her own appropriated chair, turning sideways to hug me tight. I squeeze her as gently as I can, fearing if I give in fully to my longing to embrace her I’ll crack one of her bones. She might be immortal and practically impervious to harm, but I still feel the protective drive to keep her from hurt, especially from me.

  Syd pulls away, blue eyes bright with happiness. “I’m so happy you made it.” Her hands hold mine tightly, keeping me tied to her physically even as her magic winds around me. So familiar, the touch of her energy, I
growl softly in my own joy.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Thankful to her for snapping me free of my melancholy, I finally skim the crowd with my gaze and find Meira a few rows of chairs distant, already opening gifts, her bulging belly protruding over her lap. She looks radiant, full of hope and love, her human form all grown up from the little girl I used to know. “The baby is coming soon?”

  Syd nods, fingers still laced through mine as though she fears I might leave her if she doesn’t keep close contact. “About two weeks, we think. It’s hard to know.” She grins at me, a kid herself again, the part of her I adore showing her face. While the woman she’s become impresses and awes me almost every time we meet, the girl she used to be is the impulsive, kind and temperamental soul I willingly linked my life to. “Demon pregnancies run about three months longer than ours, but since she’s part witch…” Syd shrugs. “Could be any second, I guess.”

  A pair of scampering children spot us as they wind their way through the oohs and aahs rising from the gathering, focused on Meira. The girl squeals her delight and runs headlong for me and, unable to resist her beaming smile, I bend with my arms wide, scooping the tiny, dark-haired bundle into my arms. She hugs me around the neck, planting an enthusiastic kiss on my cheek before leaning away, earnest happiness in her deep blue eyes.

  “Auntie Charlotte!” Ethie’s breathtaking beauty always makes me sigh over her, my protective instincts firing immediately when she and her little brother are around. She looks so much like her mother, though I can see her father in her, too, Quaid’s darker skin and wide-set eyes just adding to the girl’s attractiveness.

  Her shyly smiling brother comes to stand between his mother and me, hazel eyes sparking with green points blinking under long lashes, strawberry blond hair almost down to his shoulders.

  “Hi, Aunt Charlotte.” Gabriel’s sweet voice is maple syrup and fresh cut grass, his magic divine to my wolf side. I bend and kiss him, still holding his sister, offering my other knee though he’s almost too big to share my lap with her any longer.

  Syd laughs as the two crowd in, making me their seat, two little heads on my shoulders. I rest my chin on her son and meet her eyes, contentment rumbling like a purr through me. I wink slowly to her and she pats my shoulder.

  “Don’t let these two monopolize you,” she said.

  “Momma.” Ethie glares at her mother. “Auntie Charlotte loves us.”

  She bends and boops her daughter on the nose. “Bed time in a half hour.”

  Ethie groans while Gabriel smiles his sweetest. “Okay, Mom,” he says.

  Could any children ever be so precious as these? I hug them tight and shoo Syd away. “I’m perfectly happy to stay right here,” I tell her as she crosses her arms over her chest. “If you don’t mind, we have catching up to do and you have a party to get back to.”

  Syd sighs and grins at me before turning her back. “Half hour, you two.” I watch her leave, knowing I can wrangle more time than that.

  “Missed you, Aunt Charlotte.” Gabriel’s eyes look right through me, into my heart, and I tighten my arm around him, kissing his forehead.

  “I missed you, too,” I say, choking up over the fact. I see them so rarely now, and accept my visits will be even fewer and further between when I mate at last and take the throne from my grandfather. How terrible gloomy and depressing to know I’ll likely only see my two darlings on official occasions and the few times I manage to get away.

  Is it worth it to me, taking the throne, to miss out on all the benefits I’ve won from gaining my freedom? I don’t mean to waste my time with the kids thinking this way, but haven’t I simply traded one cage of control for another?

  “You missed the big treasure hunt.” Ethie’s blue eyes are wide, her four-year-old soul aged beyond her time in this world thanks to the influence of her great-grandmother’s adopted magic. I feel and see Ethpeal in the little girl regularly now and wonder if Syd is aware of the scope of the sorcerer’s influence.

  “I’m sorry I did,” I say, fixing my attention on here and now. Later would take care of itself. “Who won?”

  ***

  Chapter Five

  Ethie spins out the story, Gabriel gently interjecting when she gets a detail wrong, though content, as always, to allow his sister the limelight. His quiet kindness and pure spirit make me think of his father and the loss of Liam. Which only brings me back to Sage.

  No, I will not allow him to distract me. Not when I have these two darlings to watch over. I feel guilt, knowing my place should be here, protecting them as I did their mother. It is what I was raised to do. It’s the person I am, not a princess, but a bodywere as Syd calls me. I can’t help but feel my destiny has been skewed, misdirected by some odd twist of fate not meant for me.

  A large ball of silver fur glides toward us, leaping up to settle on Gabriel’s knee. I’m feeling like a sofa at this point, but I don’t mind, especially when Sassafras stands on the boy, leaning in to touch my nose with his pink one.

  “Should have known you’d be hiding in the corner with the kids,” he grumbles. “Took me a while to find you.”

  I don’t have a free hand to pet him, though I know he understands. A large, black shape joins us, towering over Ethie’s dark head as Galleytrot sits on his haunches, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.

  “Hey, Charlotte,” he says.

  I nod to him, my own little party filling me with all the contentment I need. “Ethie was telling me about the treasure hunt.”

  Her huffing ends as I return my attention to her.

  “As I was saying,” she rolls her eyes, “before I was interrupted.” And off she goes again into a detailed and excited explanation.

  It’s hard for them when you’re not here, Sass sends, mental voice soft. I am still becoming accustomed to speaking to others this way and falter before I answer.

  It’s hard for me, too. There was a time I wouldn’t have admitted such to anyone. But I am a different woman than I was when I first met the Hayles, no longer broken and in need of the focus on the job to keep me together. They have taught me trust and loyalty, the real meaning of love. I would be here more if my life allowed.

  I know, I’m sorry. His demon power sizzles along the edges of my wolf and she wriggles in response. How are things back home?

  Fine. I do have a line, and he’s touched on it. I’m in no mood to share with him my troubles.

  I see. He sinks into Gabriel’s lap, amber eyes firing with magic.

  It’s just… did I not just decide to leave him out of it? Sass has a way about him that disarms me, even more than Syd. I should be here, Sassafras. Taking care of the family.

  His tail twitches as he thinks my words over. It’s not that, he says.

  Not entirely. I bow my head, inhaling the scent of Ethie’s shampoo and her perfect little girl smell. I know they have you and Galleytrot to watch over them. They don’t need me.

  He laughs in my head. They will always need you. Sass’s mental voice sounds whimsical, as though he’s in his own memory a moment. And we could use the help, with this one, especially. He’s staring at Ethie now, and I do my best not to laugh out loud at the implication. She’s a handful.

  She’s her mother’s daughter, I say. You expected something else?

  Sassafras sighs. I’ve raised so many Hayle girls, he sent. But this one is something else entirely.

  Syd returns with a drink of water for me, taking Gabriel into her own arms. He’s half asleep, snuggling into his mother’s neck as Ethie winds down her story and begins to drift off, too. Sassafras takes Gabriel’s place on my knee, purring while the big hound lies at my feet with a groan of pleasure, dark eyes closing.

  Impulse, fed by the girl dosing in my arms and my proximity to the people I loved the most, drives me to speak words I never intended.

  “Syd,” I say. “If I were to step down as heir, would there be a place for me here?”

  I’m shocked by my words, so much I can barely dr
aw a breath once they have escaped me. Sassafras’s purr goes silent a moment before it starts up again, louder than ever. I feel him trying to comfort me and allow it, the red flare of fire in Galleytrot’s eyes letting me know he’s listening carefully.

  Syd reaches out and takes my hand again. “Without question,” she says. “Any time, come as you are, you betcha.”

  I laugh, unable to stop myself, while she watches me with a sad smile.

  “And hell no,” she says.

  I sigh, giddiness passing.

  “Yes,” Syd says, “because I miss you and love you and it’s not the same without you. The kids adore you, life is better when you’re here.” She looks away from me, up at the star-filled sky. Her sorrow is a living thing between us, my wolf snuffling at it and whining. “And no, because you are so much more than a servant to anyone. And if you came back, I’d worry it was for the wrong reasons.”

  I nod. “You’re right,” I say. “It would be.” At least, for now. And since the near future means taking on fully the role I was thrust into, I can’t see what’s coming for me any other way.

  “I understand, Charlotte.” Syd’s voice barely carries, free hand rubbing Gabriel’s back in absent circles. “The pressure. The responsibility. But it gets easier.” She laughs then. “Okay, I lied. Not easier. But you do get used to it.”

  “I’m just a soldier.” What is it about tonight that has freed my tongue? I feel completely open to her, wanting to talk about it where normally my old way of being held me back. “I’m not meant for this, Syd. I wasn’t raised to lead like you were. And the longer I’m in this, the more trapped and hopeless I feel.” I sag around Ethie’s sleeping body. “I’ve watched you for years, in awe of what you’ve accomplished.” I meet her eyes, see her modesty firmly in place. “I just don’t think I have the capacity to commit like you do. Like you have.”

  Fear of failure? Is that what holds me back? Of course, it is the most clear and precise answer to my standoff with my grandfather. My whole life, failure has never been an option, punishable by beating or death. Or worse. And yes, there has been worse, times I wished I could just die and be done with the pain.