by Laina Kenney
“Was there a question?” She honestly didn’t know.
He nipped in retaliation and she jumped.
“Will you marry me?”
“Oh. Yes.” Then it hit her. “Yes!”
She jumped into his arms and he twirled her around with a deep laugh.
“Good,” he said, and the dark satisfaction in his voice sent a shiver through her. He really was too much, but he seemed determined to keep her, and she felt just as determined to keep him. Maybe human and vulfen wasn’t such an uneven match.
Chapter 20
Thursday night at the Sidarov Estate, Iselle walked into the ballroom again on the arm of the most gorgeous man in a roomful of gorgeous men. Well, his twin was just as gorgeous, but there wasn’t a man there who could match them.
The tuxedo, if anything, only heightened the aura of danger around him. He wasn’t civilized, far from it. The invisible bite mark on her neck throbbed, and she covered it with her palm. Even the formal black-and-white couldn’t disguise that she was the mate of a predator.
But, after getting to know Egan and his mate Bliss, Iselle was happy with the family she was joining.
Bliss and Iselle, along with Bliss’s sister Maressa, had shopped for gowns for the presentation of the Vulfen Heir together. They had done some serious damage to their budgets together, too, and it had been more fun than Iselle could remember having in such a long time.
Maressa had a long black column gown that looked amazing on her unstoppable curves. Bliss was beautiful in an ice-blue gown of some floaty fabric that managed to look both young and sophisticated And Iselle was strangely comfortable in her gown of bronze, wrapped silk. The long streamlined skirt swished when she walked and the sound alone made her feel amazing.
With her brown hair and brown eyes, she had thought Bliss was crazy at first for suggesting the bronze, and it was the most expensive gown in the store. But the look in Balke’s eyes when she walked out of the bedroom to model it for him made it worth every penny.
Emma had been invited, but she had refused the invitation. She was having a hard time with her recovery and Iselle was worried for her friend.
Balke tucked her gloved hand tightly in the crook of his arm.
Iselle looked up at her mate and tried for a smile. He seemed to almost read her mind sometimes.
Rylek stood from the throne and the room quieted.
“John Commander, Favored Son of the Fox Clan, please step forward.”
John hesitated, until his Grandma nudged him and he walked up to the raised dais.
“Your service to the vulfen people has been noted. You have gone above and beyond anything we expected of you, and you have turned your life upside down to aid my Queen and my Heir. It is my sincere hope that you will accept the honor My Queen and I would extend to you of being named the Vulfen Heir’s Champion.”
A gasp went up around the room.
“You did this, didn’t you?” Iselle asked.
Balke inclined his head toward her.
“Rylek makes his own decisions, always,” Balke whispered. “I only mentioned the possibility. It would honor him and give added protection to young Alexi without bringing John into the Cadre itself. John has enough pressure pulling him in different directions without making him part of a guardian shift rotation.”
Iselle had been looking around, but didn’t see anything to warrant the wave of surprise running through the room.
For all his colorful vocabulary, John had certainly helped her when she had needed it, and his gentleness to Emma in the hospital had endeared him to her forever. Emma was recovering well in a physical sense, but she seemed withdrawn, her bright spirit subdued by her ordeal. Iselle was worried for her friend.
Iselle didn’t understand John exactly, and didn’t always approve of his methods or his colorful vocabulary, but John deserved to be honored as much as any man could.
“It would mean you stand as an integral part of the Vulfen Council, equal in every way with members of the Cadre,” Rylek continued. “Your strength will often be needed and your advice will be sought by the young ones. I always find that honors are a great deal of work, and this is no different. If you walk away from this, nothing will change, and you will always have the friendship of the vulfen people. Take my arm if you accept.”
Rylek rolled up the sleeve of his tuxedo and dress shirt and slowly John did the same. Rylek reached out and John raised his arm until they clasped one another’s arms at the elbow. Rylek’s claws popped and John’s did, too.
Iselle, after the shock of seeing her own shining white claws, was startled to see that John’s claws were as black as polished obsidian.
Rylek pulled his claws back fast and John curled his claws in, so that blood welled in thin red lines on both men’s forearms.
Rylek held his arm above his head and John followed his lead.
All the Cadre Warriors raised their arms in the air and a resounding cheer shook the room.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” John grumbled, but the huge smile on his face belied the words.
The Queen, Ellie, stepped forward and placed the wriggling blue bundle in John’s strong arms.
“Presenting Alexi Sidarov, Vulfen Heir.”
John froze and the baby stopped moving. They stared into each other’s faces for a long moment before John nodded his head and stroked a gentle finger over the baby’s downy cheek.
“Hey, little man,” John said, and the baby gurgled, seemingly returning the greeting.
“He is strong,” John said. “It’s good to see a baby so strong. But he wants his daddy.”
John handed the baby to Rylek and the crowd sighed as one. Iselle sighed, too. It was just so great to see a strong man holding a small baby, and the look on Rylek’s expressive face said that his heart was already wrapped around those tiny fingers.
Iselle smiled.
“Let the dance begin,” said the Alpha, and somewhere behind them a drum started a smooth rhythm.
“May I?” Balke asked, and bowed from the waist.
Iselle reached out slowly and took his offered hand.
“I would be honored,” she said and he smiled. “I didn’t know you could dance.”
“You have the rest of our lives to learn what I can do. And what you can do,” he said softly, and her muscles clenched on a ripple of heat.
“The rest of our lives,” she echoed. That sounded perfect.
He pulled her close to his chest and swept her away into a stately waltz.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laina Kenney is a classically trained singer/instructor with a regular job and a deep love of the written word. Her family is supportive of (or perhaps just resigned to) a house full of books in every genre, with ancient history and romance taking up the majority of the space. She cheerfully admits to having a bizarre sense of humor and enough shiny accessories for any ten women. One of the greatest joys in her life is exploring the wonder of testosterone, both in prose and in person.
For all titles by Laina Kenney, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/laina-kenney
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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