His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Are you sure that’s wise, Your Majesty?” Henry asked after a moment of silence. “Those scrolls are very fragile and very valuable. I’d hate to see anything happen to them.”

  Wesley smiled at the old man’s concern. He was, for all intents and purposes, a true bibliophile. Henry loved his book as if they were his own blood-born children. He’d probably throw his life on the line to protect them.

  “You have my word that nothing will happen to them Henry,” Wesley consoled. “Both Lance and I will keep a close watch on them. Besides, if you’d met the Princess, you would see that there’s not a deceitful bone in her body.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Henry hastened to agree. “I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise, please forgive me and my eccentric ways,” he pleaded.

  “No apology necessary,” Wesley said and then paused as a brilliant idea flashed through his mind. “Henry, may I ask another favor of you?”

  “Anything, Sire,” Henry readily agreed.

  “Perhaps you could make yourself available should the Princess have any questions about the manuscripts. You know them better than anyone else and you are a wonderful teacher. I imagine you would provide a more comfortable study companion.”

  Henry inhaled sharply on the other end and Wesley had a brief moment of panic. He hadn’t considered that Henry didn’t like to come above ground. He was an old dragon and the lack of extreme heat took its toll on him. He instantly felt guilty for asking so much of his friend. He opened his mouth to say such when a pleasant laugh echoed over the phone line.

  “I would love to,” Henry exclaimed exuberantly. “I haven’t been above ground in decades. What better way to spend some time than with the lovely future Queen?”

  Wesley laughed at the man’s haste in agreeing to keep the company of a young dragon.

  “For all you know, she looks like a grotesque beast,” Wesley quipped to which Henry merely laughed harder.

  “I remember her as a child, from when you were betrothed. She was a fetchingly serene girl, I’m more than sure she grew into quite an exquisite young woman,” he said.

  Wesley’s smile dimmed instantly. He’d momentarily forgotten his newest obstacle.

  “I should tell you Henry, Princess Elizabeth’s parents are followers of the Ancient Ones, that is the reason for my request,” he explained. “I want her to read the writings of Phillip the Peaceful and make up her own mind about Modernism.”

  “Ah, yes,” Henry agreed. “If anyone can convince her of the misconceptions of Modernism and the barbarism of the Ancient Ones, it will be Phillip. I will do my absolute best to help her understand Sire, you can count on me,” Henry declared.

  “I knew I could,” Wesley praised and said his goodbyes.

  Replacing the receiver in its cradle, he turned back to his brother who still stood by the roaring fireplace. It had to be over a hundred-fifty degrees in his office and yet he still felt a slight chill. He hoped that Elizabeth wouldn’t take long to convince, his dragon needed the warmth only the Earth’s core could provide. He also needed the comfort only his mate offered.

  “Everything will work out,” Lance reassured.

  “Let us hope,” Wesley stated. “Should the other side learn of a royal supporter, there won’t be a safe place anywhere on earth for her to hide.” He narrowed his eyes as fresh anger welled within him. He wished he’d sent for her sooner.

  Chapter Five

  Beth had barely managed to put the majority of her things away before a slight knock heralded a visitor. The housemaid who’d escorted her to her suite had offered to stay should she need anything, but Beth politely refused. Alone in a strange home with people she’d been taught to fear, her emotions were all over the place, not the mention the fact that her flight instincts demanded she flee out the nearest window.

  “Come in,” she called and smoothed out the slightly wrinkled cotton t-shirt and yoga pants she’d changed into. Since there was still several hours before dinner, she wanted to get as comfortable as possible and let this newest development settle. Now she wished she’d stayed in her more sophisticated outfit.

  She stood in the small entrance-way, back firmly erect, hands clasped loosely in front of her and tried her best to provide the picture of Royal stature in order to greet her unexpected visitor.

  She taken aback when an old man wearing a long brown robe pushed through the door pulling a very large book cart behind him. He saw her standing before him and immediately bowed his bald head.

  “I’m Henry, the royal librarian and scribe,” he introduced himself and waited for her to respond.

  “Please, make yourself comfortable Henry,” Beth invited. “I’m Elizabeth Henderson, but my parents always call me “Beth.”

  Henry’s wizened, wrinkled face lit when he rose to look her in the eye. Beth had never met a dragon of his age and wondered just how old he was. The majority of their species showed no physical sign of aging until they were well over a thousand years old. His warm, brown eyes all but disappeared in a tidal wave of wrinkles when he smiled.

  “I remember you my dear,” he replied. “Before Wesley and Lance’s father passed on, I was constantly at his side. He was my greatest friend,” Henry bragged and turned to pull the cart further into the room.

  “Shall I set this in the sitting room?” he asked and motioned to the adjoining room to the right. Unused to so much room for only herself, Beth didn’t quite know what to do with it. She hadn’t ventured any further than her bedroom or the bathroom. Moving toward the open door of the room in question, she peered in and let out an involuntary squeal of delight.

  The room wasn’t as large as her bedroom, but almost. It was filled with plush, inviting furniture in a colorful array of reds, browns and oranges. An open fireplace crackled with a small simmering fire and large, double-paned, floor-to-ceiling windows adorned the far wall. Upon closer inspection, she saw a small balcony just behind the windows and realized they were, in fact, french doors. The wallpaper was a soft, butter yellow and the drapes a chocolate brown.

  Her dragon felt more comfortable in here than anywhere else she’d ever been. It was as if the room had been made for her and her alone.

  “Should I take that as a yes?” Henry chuckled from where he stood behind her.

  Beth blushed and moved aside to allow him room to get the cart through.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I haven’t been in there yet. It’s absolutely breath-taking in there, I don’t think I ever want to leave,” she decreed and followed him across the threshold.

  He pushed the cart over to the low-sitting, coffee table and began unloading the contents, handling them as if there were the most valuable treasure in the world.

  Curious, Beth moved toward the large chair facing the table and lowered herself into it, moaning when the cushions molded to her body. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until the pillowy softness cocooned her. Her body sagged deeper into the cottony abyss and her eyelids grew heavy with sleep.

  “Shall I leave you for a small nap before dinner?” Henry asked softly, his voice jolting Beth back to reality.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m not usually so informal and rude. May I offer you something to drink?” she asked and started to get up. Henry stopped her by placing his gnarled hands on her shoulders.

  “No,” he argued. “I’d say you are extremely tired. After all, this is a very stressful situation for all parties involved. I imagine Wesley’s in the weight room right now pumping iron, as he calls it.”

  Beth smiled and settled back into the chair.

  “I’ll get us some tea and if you feel up to, I’ll show you my favorite piece and you can read for a bit,” Henry offered and reached over to get the phone. He called down to the kitchen for some refreshments and then turned back to sit in the chair opposite hers.

  When Beth merely looked at him, Henry chuckled loudly.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “Pr
ince Wesley asked me to bring these and sit with you while you read, should you have any questions. If you’d prefer to be left alone, you only have to say so. I completely understand wanting solitude while you read.” He sat back and rested his hands in his lap.

  At first, Beth wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but after meeting Henry, she’d grown unexpectedly comfortable in his company and wanted nothing more than to sit with him by the warm fireplace and discuss the writings Wesley asked her to read.

  She smiled warmly and leaned toward the books, looking over the covers and in most cases, the protective film covering them. Should saw from the yellowed, cracked paper that they were incredibly old and snatched her hand back at the last minute to keep from touching them.

  As a book lover, she knew not to touch the parchment lest the oil from her skin stain it.

  “These are quite ancient,” she mused and tilted her head to read the title, Modernism - A New Belief System. Her eyes drifted down to the author’s name and she frowned.

  “I’ve never heard of Phillip the Peaceful,” she observed. “Is this the one His Majesty wanted me to read?”

  Henry smiled and gave a brief nod of his head. Leaning forward, he reached out and lifted the handmade tome gently in his hands. Caressing the leather worn cover, he smiled fondly as if greeting an old friend after years spent apart.

  “Yes,” he finally responded. “This is the complete journal of Phillip the Peaceful as they refer to him. He was indeed a great man and an even greater dragon. If it weren’t for him, our species would have gone extinct many centuries ago.” He pushed it toward her. “I understand you’re a practitioner of the Ancient Ways?” he asked as she took the journal from him.

  She nodded her head but couldn’t pull her gaze from the cover of the tome. It wasn’t smooth as she’d first thought, but worn smooth by the passage of time and use. It was actually fashioned out of a reptilian skin, covered in opalescent scales of green hue. The realization hit her hard and she almost tossed it back at Henry in disgust.

  The cover had been made from a dragon’s hide.

  “Yes, your observation is correct,” Henry answered as if she’d asked a question out loud. “That is dragon hide, in fact, it’s the hide from the very last dragon that Phillip killed in combat. He used it as a reminder of the beliefs he wanted to change and the violence he wanted to end.”

  Strangely the explanation made perfect sense. Disgusting, but perfect. It served as an icon to the author. She couldn’t fault him that.

  “Well, in that case,” Beth mused. “I suppose I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” Henry chuckled lightly and gave her a quick nod of agreement. Carefully she pulled back and began reading. She briefly asked the Ancients for forgiveness and knew if her parents were here to see her do this, they would have peeled the flesh from her bones as punishment.

  Chapter Six

  At precisely eight o’clock, Wesley stood at the bottom of the grand staircase and watched his lovely bride-to-be descend as gracefully as a swan swims. She wore a rich green, floor-length dress that looked to be made of chiffon as it lifted and danced around her ankles.

  The neckline sat just slightly off her shoulders and Wesley couldn’t stop the saliva from drying up in his mouth. Her hair was pulled into a low side-ponytail, the ends curling around her neck. The contrast of her fiery hair against the green fabric was simply breathtaking.

  “I hope I’m not overdressed,” she observed.

  Wesley glanced down at the same slacks and shirt he’d worn earlier and wished he’d dressed up a bit more, or at least changed clothes. But no matter how well he dressed, she would always outshine him, that’s just how beautiful she was.

  “Not at all,” he hastened to answer her as she approached the bottom step. He offered her his arm and felt mildly satisfied when she slipped her delicate hand into the crook of his arm. “I’ve been busy with kingdom issues since I arrived. I don’t think I’ve even stopped long enough to sit down for a single meal that wasn’t microwaved,” he mused and smiled when she laughed.

  “I can’t imagine the time and effort it takes to run a complete Faction,” she observed and tucked her chin shyly. “I know your brother has acted as your proxy since you enlisted in the military, are you up to speed or is it not my place to ask?”

  “You can ask whatever you like,” Wesley informed her pragmatically. “This is your Faction too after all and should everything proceed as I hope, you will reign at my side as my Princess.”

  Beth’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

  “I don’t understand what you mean,” she confessed.

  “It means that everything that is mine will become yours,” he informed her with a sly smile. “And that includes all royal business.”

  Two weeks later…

  Beth waited anxiously just inside the front door of the formal estate. Wesley stood on her right side, holding her hand firmly in his and Lance stood on her left. The trio managed to inhabit half the interior of the spacious entryway.

  After everything she’d read, everything she’d seen and the things Henry had explained to her, Beth had no choice but to seriously consider converting. She couldn’t argue that the true Ancient Ways were barbaric. The version her parents raised her on was a very diluted depiction. But even that didn’t matter; she couldn’t see herself continuing to follow that path.

  This consideration wasn’t simply because she’d fallen in love with Wesley; deep down she knew that he’d marry her regardless. He respected her enough to allow her freedom to pursue her own interests, dreams and even her own religious beliefs. Sure, could she remain a follower of the Ancient Ways, it would prove difficult for them, but she knew that together, they would make it work.

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, Wesley tightened his hold on their clasped hands and she accepted the small, almost invisible action as an enormous sign of faith. They hadn’t told her parents of the conflict of interests and even though it was technically a matter for the Prince to handle, Wesley had agreed to allow Beth a chance to speak with her parents about their failure to convert when the decree was instituted many centuries ago.

  She wanted the truth as to why they’d virtually betrayed their leader for a way of life that seemed almost savage compared to the newer Modernism.

  “What shall I tell them about the ceremony?” Beth whispered. She’d realized they hadn’t told her mother and father anything other than a few extra weeks were needed for preparations. It had been the only way to delay their trip to witness.

  “Stick with our original story,” he responded. “Elder Seraphina has volunteered to act as an obstacle. Since ritual rites dictate that at least six Elders be in attendance, she’ll delay her arrival in order to give us an excuse.”

  Beth nodded and inhaled deeply, steeling herself for the conversation to come.

  Tires crunched across the pea-gravel drive as the car eased to a stop directly out front. She heard her mother’s low murmurs and her father admonishing her. Even though she’d lived in such conditions all her life, a fire sprang to life inside her at the mere thought of the things her mother had suffered through.

  Lance stepped forward and pulled the door open before they reached it. Both parents looked up in alarm and Beth sought her mother’s eyes. Sadness filled her when she saw that she kept them firmly downcast.

  Introductions were made and Beth stepped forward to embrace each of her parents but she felt no emotion in the gestures. It was as if her mother moved on auto-pilot.

  “It is an honor to see you again You Highness,” her father bowed his six-feet-four-inch frame before Wesley, his large arms held firmly at his side. His pitch black hair was slicked back with enough hair pomade to cover the Atlantic. Both parents were dressed in casual attire, her mother wearing a rather modest sapphire blue pant suit and her father his normal black suit, white shirt and a matching black tie. Her mother’s dark auburn hair was pulled back in a perfect chignon, with not a hair out of plac
e.

  Wesley motioned for Jeremy to rise and extended his hand toward him. The big, boisterous Texan reciprocated with a frown of disapproval. Beth could only imagine the thoughts running through her father’s head.

  Turning from the men, Beth took her mother’s hands in hers and offered a warm smile.

  “I’ve missed you,” she murmured to the older woman. Instead of responding in kind, Emily merely smiled and gave a curt nod of her regal head.

  At a loss on how to proceed, Beth sought out Wesley and tried her best to convey the slip of panic coursing through her.

  Snapping to attention, Wesley opened his arms.

  “Beth, why don’t you take your parents up to the Library and catch up?” he suggested with a slight nod. Seizing the opportunity, Lance stepped forward and offered Emily his arm.

  “I’ll take them up,” Lance offered. “Beth, perhaps you’d like to ask Ginny for some refreshments? I’ll keep Mr. and Mrs. Henderson company while you do.” Without waiting for her response, Lance led her mother through the foyer and up the grand staircase, her father angrily on his heels.

  “Take a deep breath,” Wesley whispered into her ear and her nerves calmed in response. They weren’t even properly mated yet and his impact on her left her breathless.

  “Lance and I will wait in the Music Room across the hall. If you need me, all you have to do is call out, I’ll be there,” he reassured her and bent to press a light kiss across her forehead. “No matter what, I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Seven

  Beth entered the Library with a tray consisting of a healthy pot of steaming hot tea, cookies and the usual: sugar, cream, spoons, cups, saucers and napkins.

  Lance excused himself and she moved across the room to place the tray on the coffee table. Her parents were seated by the fireplace, across from one another with the low-sitting table between them. She poured their tea in silence and then sat beside her mother.