The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince
Heirs of Magic
Book One
by
Jeffe Kennedy
A Legacy of Honor
Crown Prince Astar has only ever wanted to do the right thing: be a credit to his late father’s legacy, live up to his duties as heir to the high throne of the Thirteen Kingdoms, and cleave to the principles of honor and integrity that give his life structure—and that contain the ferocious grizzly bear inside. Nowhere in those guiding principles is there room for the fierce-hearted, wildly free-spirited, and dizzyingly beautiful shapeshifter, Zephyr. Still, even though they’ve been friends most of their lives, Astar is able to keep Zephyr safely at arm’s length. He’s already received a list of potential princess brides who will make a suitable queen, and Zephyr is not on it.
A Longtime Obsession
Zeph has wanted the gorgeous, charming, and too-good-for-his-own-good Astar for as long as she can remember. Not that her longing for him—and his perfectly sculpted and muscular body—has stopped her from enjoying any number of lovers. Astar might be honorably (and foolishly) intent on remaining chaste until marriage, but Zeph is Tala, and they have no such rules. Still, she loves Astar—as a friend—and she wants him to at least taste life before he chains himself to a wife he didn’t choose. There’s no harm in him having a bit of fun with her. But the man remains stubbornly elusive, staving off all of her advances with infuriatingly noble refusals.
A Quest to Save the World
But things change when a new terror threatens the Thirteen Kingdoms. Following prophecy, Astar and Zeph—along with a mismatched group of shapeshifter, warrior, and sorceress friends—go on a quest to stop a magic rift before it grows beyond anyone’s ability to stop. Thrust together with Zephyr, Astar finds himself increasingly unable to resist her seductive invitations. And in the face of life-and-death battles with lethal monsters, he begins to lose sight of why having her, just once, is such a terrible idea…
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to beta readers Reese Hogan, Emily Mah Tippetts, and Jim Sorenson. Particular—and grudging—thanks to Darynda Jones for last-minute advice that gave me a panicked meltdown (especially since she was right); to Jim, who held my hand through solving the problem; and Emily for a fast read to confirm it was all good.
As always, love to Grace (Darling) Draven for the long conversations, excellent advice, and strategy. Here’s to being smart and not working for free!
Thanks and love to Carien Ubink for reading, answering questions at all hours, and “general assisting.”
Appreciation to Netters, for weighing in on hunkiness and shirtlessness—and for not griping (too much) about getting sent on errands.
As ever, love and immense gratitude to David, who is there every day, and who makes everything possible.
Copyright © 2021 by Jennifer M. Kennedy
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or business establishments, organizations or locales is completely coincidental.
Thank you for reading!
Credits
Proofreading: Pikko’s House (www.pikkoshouse.com)
Cover: Ravven (www.ravven.com)
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
Acknowledgments
Copyright Page
Maps
Family Tree
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Titles by Jeffe Kennedy
About Jeffe Kennedy
~ Prologue ~
“Astar—watch this!” Zephyr’s musical shout rang out from the cliff’s edge high above. Shading his eyes against the bright tropical sun, Astar picked out Zephyr’s slim silhouette perched on tiptoe, precariously clinging to a rock outcropping. Her light silken shift fluttered around her as she raised her arms, the coastal breeze catching the long banner of her glossy black hair. He tried very hard not to notice how the thin material clung to her full breasts and the enticing flare of her hips. A gentleman didn’t stare at women that way, especially not at his friends—and particularly not at Zephyr, who could never be his.
But Astar dutifully looked in her direction and waved, knowing perfectly well she wouldn’t perform whatever trick she had planned until he was watching. Assured she had his attention, she leapt into the air in a perfect swan dive, plummeting to the glittering sea below—a drop far too great for any ordinary human to survive.
Zephyr, however, was anything but ordinary.
Still, his heart climbed into his throat as he counted the endless moments of her fall, mentally begging her to shapeshift already. An instant before she hit the water, she exploded into golden fur and feathers, her wings tightly folded against her back, lion’s body still sleekly aimed toward the waves—and she dove in, disappearing entirely.
Starting his count over, he waited for her to surface. Though she was still in her mid-teens, Zephyr was already talented and proficient enough to shift into any number of water-breathing forms. She could shapeshift into a fish and stay below the surface for hours—days, even, if it wasn’t inadvisable for the Tala shapeshifters to remain in animal form too long—and she might do exactly that, just to tease him.
Zephyr loved to tease him, and Astar did his best to pretend he wasn’t enthralled by her.
Stretching out on the white sand beach, resting his head on folded arms and enjoying Annfwn’s warm sunshine and cloudless soft blue skies, Astar tried to relax. Though he was supposed to be done growing, his joints still occasionally ached, and his mother had declared he had another finger width or two of height left in him. Like he needed to get any taller. Despite the aches and the worrying about Zephyr he couldn’t easily dismiss, he did his best to savor his last day in Annfwn. Tomorrow he’d be back at wintry Castle Ordnung, continuing under High Queen Ursula’s relentless tutelage. As her heir, he would follow in her footsteps and ascend to the high throne of the Thirteen Kingdoms someday. A crushing thought, for so many reasons.
Unable to resist checking on Zephyr, he turned his head to study the turquoise water. What if she had misjudged? The eagle parts of her gryphon form—the gríobhth, in the Tala language—might be equipped for a dive like that, but he didn’t think the lion half would be. Scowling to himself, he sat up. Should he get someone to look
for her? He didn’t have an aquatic form, as he was only a partblood shapeshifter, one who only had First Form, and his was a grizzly bear. He could swim well enough as the bear, but not dive underwater for any length of time.
And Zephyr knew that, much as she liked to taunt him about trying for more forms. A frustrated growl rose in him, the bear restless and worried, pushing to be released.
Astar was just getting to his feet when a porpoise burst from the waves, becoming a songbird in mid-leap and winging to him to become Zephyr in human form—standing before him on the sand, once again in her ocean-blue silk shift, her hair tumbling in gleaming curls, sapphire eyes sparkling as she laughed at him.
Poking him in the chest with a pointed finger, she wrinkled her nose. “I gave up too soon! You were about to come rescue me, weren’t you?”
“Like you needed rescuing,” he growled at her.
Undaunted, she gentled her skewering finger to slide down his midline. “I always need rescuing by you, my bear,” she purred. “And you were coming after me.”
He brushed her finger away—letting Zephyr touch him tested his control too far—and pretended to yawn.
“Nope. I was bored while you were playing fish. I was about to head back to the cliff city.”
“Liar. You could never abandon a damsel in distress. You’re far too noble for that.”
“You were hardly in distress,” he reminded her, which wasn’t a lie, even if he had worried.
“Come swim with me,” she wheedled, taking his hand and tugging him toward the water. “Try for a fish form. Just once. For me.” She batted the lush fringe of her black lashes, pushing her crimson lips into an enticing pout.
He managed to extract his hand from her grip, his fingers burning with the desire to touch her more and more and more. “You know I can’t.”
Punching her fists on her hips, she stood in the ankle-deep surf, eyes flashing with impatience. “You could do more forms when you were a boy. That means you still can.”
“That’s not true,” he countered, packing up their picnic things. They’d have a bit of a walk back to the cliff city, and people would be waiting for him. Ursula had drilled into him the importance of being on time. “You know that many Tala explore forms they never take again. I’m happy with my grizzly bear. That’s more than most people in the world have.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, frowning at his actions. “It can’t be time to go back yet.”
“I have to meet with King Rayfe and Queen Andromeda,” he reminded her. “Duty calls,” he added with what he hoped was a charming grin—though it did nothing to alleviate her annoyance.
“Astar, this is your last day in Annfwn. You promised me a picnic.”
He held up the empty basket in demonstration. “And picnic we did. You can stay and play, but I have responsibilities.”
She swooped up to him, too fast for him to dodge, and set her palms flat on his bare chest, her sapphire eyes glittering with irritation. “You always have responsibilities.”
It was true. Being heir demanded a great deal—and Astar lived in dread of not being up to the job, of disappointing all the people who believed in him. Something the enviably carefree Zephyr could never understand. Her nails scratched lightly over his skin, and her scent, like tropical flowers blooming in high mountain air, made him want to wrap his arms around her and inhale all she offered. Something else his duties kept him from indulging in.
“Stay and play with me,” she purred invitingly, palms flattening to caress his chest, answering desire thrumming through him. “Just a little longer. You can have all the boring meetings you like… later.”
With a groan, he wrenched himself from her alluring touch, covering it with a laugh. “I can’t,” he told her with determination, sweeping up the last of his things and turning his back firmly to her.
“You mean you won’t,” she called after him, frustration ripe in her voice.
That was also true. Zephyr could never be his, and he could never be hers. As heir to the high throne, he’d have to make a marriage of state with whoever they picked for him—and Her Majesty would never choose a half-wild Tala girl with a First Form most people thought existed only in myth. Far better never to start an affair that would only break him when it ended.
Zephyr, of course, would be fine. She always was, brighter and better than life itself.
“You can run from me, Astar, but I swear that one day I’ll get you to break your stupid rules!” she yelled.
He lifted a hand in farewell, in acknowledgment. If he let Zephyr get him alone again, she’d no doubt wear him down. So he’d have to make sure she didn’t get the opportunity.
“Mark my words,” her taunting voice carried on the ocean breeze. “You will be mine! You already are, you just don’t know it yet.”
The problem was, he knew that all too well. And it didn’t change anything.
~ 1 ~
Seven Years Later
A chill of foreboding ran down Astar’s spine as the footman relayed the urgent summons. Though Astar was as magical as a clod of dirt, it didn’t take sorcery to know that it was bad news when the high queen commands her heir’s immediate attendance. And that it would have to be especially terrible news to draw Her Majesty from the anniversary celebration of her long reign. The festival ball had been going most of the night, and no one in the vast crowd thronging Castle Ordnung was in any shape to be handling anything but another celebratory toast.
Case in point, Astar’s quite drunken companions burst into laughing protests at the footman’s message. Not that they ever took much seriously, much to the dismay of their parents and mentors.
“Surely we don’t all have to go,” Astar’s cousin immediately argued. “His Highness Crown Prince Astar is the dutiful heir,” Rhy said, giving Astar a lethally innocent grin. “Let him answer the summons, attend Her Majestyness,” he added irreverently, “We’ll stay here and keep the mjed warm.”
“Her Majesty High Queen Ursula asked for all seven of you, Prince Rhyian,” the footman replied to Rhy’s protest. “She commands that you meet her immediately in her study.”
“Not really a prince,” Rhy muttered darkly.
“I’ll go with you, Astar,” Zephyr purred, leaning her breast against his arm. She’d been seizing every opportunity that night to flirt with him. This was nothing new, as that was Zephyr’s nature. She flirted with anyone and everyone, and—in typical Tala fashion—the free-spirited shapeshifter woman took as many lovers as she liked. Astar had managed to keep from being alone with her all these years, which had worked to keep her from testing his resistance beyond recovering. That night, however, she had changed tactics. She’d focused entirely on him, uncaring who noticed, intent on seduction. She’d been working on wearing him down for hours now.
She’d even given him a secret promise to honor the Feast of Moranu. The folded piece of paper in his pocket burned there like a live coal. He was afraid to read it, unsure if he could hold out against whatever temptation she’d seen fit to write down.
It had already nearly killed him to deflect her subtle—and progressively more overt—suggestions. Only the long habit of refusing her shored up his strained willpower. Zephyr had been a pretty girl, but she’d become an outrageously beautiful woman. Especially so that night, all dressed up to celebrate the Feast of Moranu. With her curling black hair tumbling nearly to the hem of her crimson ballgown, her sensual lips painted the same shade, deep blue eyes huge in her gorgeous face… well, his lifelong weakness for her had billowed into raging desire. With her natural ebullience, verve, and zest for life, Zephyr was everything he wasn’t. Even after all these years, every time he saw Zephyr, he found it harder to resist her.
And he must resist, at all costs.
“Please, Your Highnesses, lords and ladies, you must all go,” the footman begged, practically dancing from foot to foot in impatience. “Her Majesty is waiting.”
Astar didn’t bother telling the footman that
particular argument didn’t carry much weight with this group. “Can you tell us what this is about?” he asked, hoping that might convince the crew of merrymakers to sober up—literally.
The footman gulped. “No, Your Highness. It’s a matter of both utmost secrecy and urgency.”
How strange. “All right, everyone,” Astar said, stepping up to lead the group and extracting himself from Zephyr’s intoxicating touch. They’d all been indulging in whiskey, mjed, and wine—to the point that even the shapeshifters with their high metabolisms were tipsy, which made them even more difficult to corral than usual. Astar was glad that he’d been moderate in his drinking, as always excruciatingly aware of his responsibilities as heir to the high throne. Plus, he’d figured fending off Zephyr’s advances would go from next to impossible to disastrous failure if he got tipsy. “We must obey the summons of the High Queen,” he reminded them. “If Her Majesty truly doesn’t need some of you, you’ll be back to the party soon enough.”
“Fine,” Rhy grumbled. “But we’re bringing our plates. Salena is starving after that prodigious display of magic.” He gave her a proud smile, and she blushed with pleasure.
“It really was amazing, Lena,” Gen gushed. “I’m sorry I didn’t say so immediately. The way you cleared the storm and revealed the moon with your weather magic exactly at the dark of midnight, I got chills. It was an incandescent experience.”
“I’ll get our sorceress celebrity more wine,” Zephyr declared, heading to the ice sculpture of Castle Ordnung with its cascading fountain of white-gold sparkling wine. “Anyone else—Astar, darling?”
“No, thank you,” Astar called to her, giving the footman a sympathetic nod. “We’ll start walking, and you catch up.” Setting the example, he briskly moved the group in the direction of the queen’s study. “Don’t be concerned,” he told the footman, who looked anxiously back at Zephyr. “She won’t miss this.” Zephyr might seem flighty to some—sometimes Astar suspected she deliberately cultivated that impression—but she always came through when needed.
The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince: An Epic Fantasy Romance (Heirs of Magic Book 1) Page 1
