by Juniper Hart
“Yeah?”
“If you were a lesser being, you would have razed that place to the ground.”
“I wanted to,” Orion reminded her. “You’re the one who convinced me not to.”
“Actually, it was Vera,” Harmony corrected him. “And she was right. This is so much better.”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? I’ve never set up a shelter before.”
“Consider it broadening your horizons,” Harmony chuckled, but there was a strain in her voice.
“Are you worried about Grace?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “Grace is the last person I’m worried about. She’s proven time and again that she can take care of herself. She’ll be amazing at running the Enchanted House.”
“I think you’re right.” He paused. “But don’t tell me something isn’t bothering you.”
Harmony sighed. “I’m just wondering if any more of my DNA is floating around out there. If it should fall into the wrong hands—”
“It won’t,” Orion interjected flatly. “I have someone working on that day and night. If there are any more of those drugs, we’ll find and destroy them.”
Harmony nodded and grinned weakly. “You’ve got a guy hunting down those illegally adopted babies. You’ve got a guy looking for my DNA. You’ve got lots of guys.”
“Frees up my time to do what’s important, Harmony.”
She grinned up at him coyly. “And what’s that?”
“You, of course.”
She felt her heart melt at the sincerity of the words, and she leaned in to kiss him again.
“Thank you for finding me,” she murmured. “I had no idea how lost I was without you.”
“The feeling is more than mutual, my dear,” Orion replied returning her kiss. “You have no idea.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“I guess this means I’ll be looking for another assistant,” Orion commented ruefully as he stared affectionately at Vera. She chuckled and swatted at him playfully.
“I thought you had finally learned to let loose a little,” she replied, raising her champagne goblet in toast. “But it’s always about work with you.”
Orion shook his head and stared across the banquet hall.
“Not always,” he said quietly. “Not anymore.”
Harmony stood against a wall, lighting up the room in a flowing green ballroom gown, and even from the space between them, he could see the blazing emerald of her eyes.
That’s a perfect color for her. She looks as truly magical as she is.
“You should go to her,” Vera suggested. “She looks vaguely uncomfortable. Probably because weddings have a bad connotation with her.”
Orion grunted at the reminder.
For the most part, they had managed to put the horrors behind them, Harmony’s resilient nature keeping her from slipping into a depression, but that didn’t mean that some things were slight triggers for her. Vera was right.
“You make a beautiful bride,” he told her earnestly. “My brother is a very lucky man.”
“I know,” she quipped. “I keep telling him the same thing.”
Orion placed a kiss on her pale cheek before excusing himself to join Harmony.
“Are you all right?” he asked her quietly as he reached her side. She nodded quickly and forced a smile.
“There are a lot of people here,” she murmured. “More than I’ve ever seen in my life.”
He put his arm around her waist and drew her near, kissing her neck softly. Instantly, she melted against him, and Orion felt a recognizable pull in his groin. The simple nearness of her was intoxicating.
“Vera is a beautiful bride,” Harmony said, a wistful note in her voice. Orion inhaled the scent of her dark red hair.
“I confess, I never noticed how close she and my brother had become over the years,” he told her guiltily. “I have been blind to many things over the years, I suppose.”
“Like what?” She turned to fix her bright eyes on him inquisitively.
“Like the idea of finding my mate, for one,” he answered. “Like experiencing anything other than work. Like opening my eyes to the things I take for granted, like my ability to love who I want. And taking advantage of that.”
She stared at him, unspeaking before turning away. The melancholy in her remained, but the doctors all agreed that eventually, she would be able to overcome the trauma of her situation and live a full, happy life.
“I miss them sometimes,” she murmured, and Orion felt a strange pang in his heart. It was a combination of worry and compassion.
“It’s to be expected.”
Orion embraced her tightly, wishing he could take away her sadness but not knowing what else to say. He was accustomed to these seldom bouts of melancholy, and he knew all he could do was be there for her.
Unwittingly, he found himself reliving the memory of the day he had found Harmony in the flesh. He had burst into the glass room, sure that she and Grace were dead. They lay unmoving, Harmony on the bed, Grace barely breathing on the floor. In slow motion, he picked up their near lifeless bodies, carrying them, and Orion was sure Harmony had tears in her eyes.
“Grace is thriving at the Enchanted House,” he said gently. “I’m sure she’d love a visit sometime.”
Harmony gave him a half-smile and bobbed her head.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her fingers. “I’m so emotional these days.”
“Weddings do that to the best of us,” he assured her, his eyes falling on his brother. He thought of the last conversation they’d had before his wedding.
“I never realized how much you have done for me,” Orion told Sirius. “I always thought that you left me to do your own thing.”
Sirius had laughed. “It would be no fun having you know that I’ve been breathing down your neck from afar. You don’t work well that way.”
Through all this, our family bond grew stronger. Strange as it is.
He knew his father was off hitting on the bartender somewhere, too.
“You know your friends are safe,” Orion assured Harmony, wondering from where her sudden apprehension had stemmed. “And together still. They’re just a plane ride away.”
“And Rachel’s baby? Is she well?”
Gently, Orion turned her to face him.
“What’s with all this sudden anxiety?” he asked her quietly. “What’s happening?” She darted her eyes away and inhaled sharply. “Harmony, I think we’ve established that you can talk to me about anything,” he said. “What is going on?”
She raised her head and bit on her lower lip. When she opened her mouth to speak, Lane Aldwin appeared at her side. Orion’s eyes bugged at the sight of her.
“W-what are you doing here?” he heard himself ask, taking in her fine dress.
“I was invited,” Lane said. “Or, rather, Henry was invited, and I insisted on coming along because I just had to have a word with Harmony.”
Harmony’s brow shot up.
“About what?” she asked.
“First, how is your pregnancy coming along?”
Orion snorted.
“A little tasteless, Lane,” he snapped, rolling his eyes. To his shock, Harmony’s lower lip quivered. “Y-you’re pregnant?” he choked, anger filling his face. “By whom?”
“The child is yours, Orion.”
He blinked and stared at Lane skeptically.
“How did that happen?” he demanded. “Did you put a spell on me? Because you know that vampires can’t reproduce.”
“This has nothing to do with me,” Lane replied flatly. “Which is why I’d like to speak to Harmony. How is this possible?”
Harmony’s eyes widened, and she shook her head miserably.
“I have no idea!” she proclaimed. “I-I… I don’t know.”
Orion’s jaw tightened, and he glowered at Lane.
“This is a personal matter,” he told her grimly
. “You had no right to confront her like this.”
Lane was unperturbed.
“I do when it involves me,” she retorted.
“Not everything involves the Council,” Orion shot back.
“No,” she conceded. “But now that I’m pregnant, too, I think we have something serious to discuss.”
Taken
Enchanted Foxes
Prologue
Henry was more concerned about it than Lane, it seemed, his brow furrowed into an uncomfortable looking crease as he stared at his mate. The worry on his face was unmistakable, even though she pretended to brush it off.
“I still don’t understand how all this is happening,” he muttered, and Lane stifled a sigh, turning away from the mirror where she had been examining her growing womb with interest. It was odd to see her body in such a condition, her tiny form expanding to allow for the new being.
This is a sight I never thought I’d see, she thought with a combination of affection, awe, and horror. No matter how many months passed, she couldn’t seem to get used to the idea that she was with child. It defied everything she’d ever been taught about the Enchanted and their prophecies. Whether I can believe it or not, it’s happening, and I need to get on board with it. This isn’t a dream, no matter how much it feels like one.
“You’re looking a gift horse in the mouth,” Lane said softly, but her words were lighter than she felt. She, too, had been asking herself the same question since learning of her pregnancy.
“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” Henry growled. “You have a vampire baby growing in you. That’s—it’s unheard of.”
“Well, it’s heard of because it’s happening,” she chuckled, placing her hands over his wary face. “You’d think after all these months, you’d be used to it by now.” She wondered if he could hear the uncertainty of her words. Probably. He knew her better than she knew herself.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it,” Henry replied. Lane’s eyes narrowed.
“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say that you’re unhappy about this baby.” Henry balked, his pale skin waxing more, and he shook his head vehemently.
“On the contrary,” he insisted. “I’m over the moon that you’re pregnant, Lane. I can’t wait to be a father, but…” He trailed off, and Lane darted her own light eyes away, knowing exactly what was weighing on his mind. She wished he wouldn’t say it aloud. She didn’t want confirmation of her own fears.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she interjected quickly. “The doctor says the baby is developing just fine. I’m fine. Let’s not dwell on what might happen, all right? We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” She winked at her mixed metaphor, but he didn’t look appeased.
Henry would never really be comforted until he laid his own eyes on the baby.
“I’d feel better if I had some guarantee,” he grumbled. Lane smiled patiently at him.
“When are we ever guaranteed anything?” she asked him softly. “We’re always winging it. You know that.”
“Not reassuring,” Henry added dryly.
“At least we’ve gotten to the bottom of how it happened,” she offered brightly.
“Did we really?” he wondered sourly. “The more we learn about the fox shifters, the Vulpes, the more questions I have.”
Lane silently admitted that he was right—there was a lot going on with the foxes that she didn’t claim to understand, no matter how much she searched and researched them. Every encounter was a new, startling experience. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t wonder what else they could do. Only time would tell.
“They’re trouble,” Lane said. “I knew that from the minute I found Samantha Jagger. She has some kind of mind power that I’ve never seen, and her sister—Harmony—she’s telekinetic. And that’s only what we’ve seen. I feel like we might have to put them under surveillance or something, just in case.”
Henry eyed her. “That’s a little fierce, isn’t it? I mean, they’re just Enchanted beings like the rest of us. We all have weird traits that might alarm some of our peers, but we co-exist… for the most part.”
“You know as well as I do that isn’t true, Henry,” she retorted with more anger than she’d intended. “They have qualities that don’t suit anything we know. We don’t have a fox representative on the Council, and they’ve been in hiding for a millennium, at least. What are they hiding? What’s their deal?”
“What is your fascination with these sisters?” Henry asked quietly. “So they’re mystical—a lot of us are. That used to be an endearing quality, not cause to call in the Army.”
“They’re more than that. They drive their mates to do strange, uncharacteristic things. Harmony Jagger’s blood causes fertility. Sam Jagger’s children are—”
“I know you think that they’re different, but they’re just unknown. Once upon a time, every species had the same feeling about the others,” Henry told her gently. “Once, we were all wary of each other for the same reason. Your fears are based on not knowing, not the fact that the Jaggers have done anything to warrant them.”
“Fears?” Lane scoffed. “I’m not afraid. I’m concerned about what they’re capable of doing. You have to admit, their sudden appearance is daunting.”
“Lane,” Henry sighed. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you have. My only concern is for our unborn child. Trust me when I say that the Vulpes are likely no threat as a species. You need to worry less about the Jaggers and the like and focus more on us.”
Lane’s mouth curved into a half-smile.
“Have I been neglecting you?” she teased. “I’m sorry. You know me, always investigating something.”
Henry gave her a fake pout and shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess I’m used to it by now,” he grumbled. “It isn’t easy being mated to an Aldwin witch, but I suppose I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this.”
Laughing, Lane pulled him closer and relished the feeling of his body against hers and their child.
He’s right, she told herself. I have more important things to worry about than the Vulpes. And maybe I am being too suspicious of them, even given the circumstances. After all, if not for Harmony, I wouldn’t be having this baby right now, would I?
It had taken some time to understand how the fertile content in Harmony’s blood had been released into the air at Eden, but now that she knew, Lane realized that perhaps the foxes had abilities of which even they weren’t aware.
“Are we in agreement, then?” Henry pressed. “No more talk about foxes for a while?”
Reluctantly, Lane pulled her head back and stared at her mate, nodding slowly.
“Fine,” she agreed. “No more discussing the Vulpes.”
Henry was happy with her concession and kissed her lightly on the lips, but Lane didn’t add the part that she was silently thinking.
At least not for now.
1
“Hey, you got yourself a blend there. What is that? A new style of tie?” Harley cackled, gesturing at his cousin’s shirt as he laughed raucously. “You’re almost five hundred years old, bud. Maybe it’s time you learned how to use a fork!”
Some of the other family members chuckled, too, and Trevor looked down at his top. Immediately, he saw the gravy stain over his breast and felt heat rise through his neck. He picked up a linen napkin and began to dab at the blot, causing it to smear.
The snickers grew louder in his ear.
“Oh, nice one!” Harley continued to taunt him, stuffing a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. On his right, Trevor’s brother, Christopher, sneered, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
“Harley,” Will sighed, shaking his head. “Leave Trevor alone.”
“What?” Harley insisted, giving his mate an innocent look. “I was just showing him that he had a stain. What’s wrong with that?”
He chewed obnoxiously, and Trevor was momentarily graced with a few seconds of silence. Will shot him an a
pologetic look and returned to his dinner. Trevor knew he should have been relieved that someone was jumping to his defense, but instead, he was more embarrassed, as if he couldn’t take care of himself.
“Trevor, stop rubbing at it!” his mother chided, shaking her head in exasperation. “You’re only making it worse. Don’t you know how to get rid of a stain by now?”
Trevor hadn’t even realized he was still dabbing at the blot until Annabelle had spoken. Chris snorted.
“Seriously. He can’t use a fork. He can’t remove a stain. He’ll never get off his mama’s teat!” Chris laughed, encouraging more laughter from Harley, and Trevor felt his jaw locking in consternation.
Why the hell do I continue to do this to myself? I must be a glutton for punishment or something.
Having dinner with the pack was one thing. Having family dinner with the Hollands was quite another altogether. At least with the pack, they kept their conversations exclusively on business. There was no picking on Trevor during those evenings.
“Trev!” his mother barked. “Stop blotting at the stain!”
Obediently, he stopped, suddenly unsure of what to do now, noting that he was the focus of the family dinner. His cheeks aflame with embarrassment, his dark brown eyes rested on the kind gaze of Elyse, his brother’s wife. Her sweet fairy face was wrought with compassion.
“I’ll get you some club soda, Trevor,” Elyse told him, standing from the table even before Trevor could protest. “Don’t worry. It will come right out.”
“He can do it himself, Elyse,” Chris snapped, his smirk fading. She barely glanced at her husband as she disappeared into the kitchen.
“I’m closer,” she replied, the swinging door closing behind her firm backside. She still wore the last few pounds of stubborn baby weight that her daughter had cursed her with almost four years earlier, but Elyse was just as agile as the day she’d married Trevor’s brother, five years earlier.
