All's Fair in Love and Lion

by Bethany Averie

  “You’re welcome. What about me? Should I change or will this work?”

  Starting with her tan slacks, I work my gaze upwards to her white cotton button-down blouse. With its short puffy sleeves, it makes Sasha appear both sweet and innocent. Surreptitiously, I sniff the air. Her light, floral scent carries a hint of desire, a decidedly not innocent aroma. I tamp down on my own desire, and my gaze returns to her face. “Stunning.”

  “Stop.”

  “Making you blush? It’s very becoming.”

  Tipping her face up to meet mine, I cover her lips with my own. I’m not sure if my heart or hers rams against my chest. Her soft moan sends flames through me. Her lips part and she clutches the lapels of my jacket. My blood pounds in my ears. Her floral scent perfumes the air and floods my mind. Just when I’m on the brink of losing myself in her embrace, a small prickle at the edges of my conscience brings me back to reality. Sasha’s mouth will have to wait. If I delay any longer, Ayres will find out and condemn my actions.

  “Love, we have to go, now,” I whisper.

  “Huh?”

  “We have to leave. My valet and the other servants are expecting us.”

  A flicker of recognition crosses her face. “Uh, right. Your castle. The Third Realm.”

  I hold her arm as she sways. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be as soon as the room stops spinning.”

  She throws me a glare and I wipe the smile from my face.

  Approaching the rift, I wonder if it’ll let me bring Sasha through. I hadn’t considered what I would do if it doesn’t. I attempt not to cringe as we step through the boundaries. A slight prickly sensation up and down my arm and we’re through. Thank the Creator.

  Relaxing, I lead her into the den. “Welcome to my home.”

  She takes in the leather chairs, rugs, and dark oak side tables. “Your living room?”

  “My private den. The servants will get your bags. Let me show you to your chambers.”

  I lead her down the stone passageways. She clings to my hand.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her.

  We stop in front of a pair of double doors. Opening one door, I step back to let her go in first.

  “Monroe,” she breathes, “it’s beautiful.”

  “You like it?”

  She lets out a gleeful shout and spins around. “It’s perfect. Something out of my dreams.”

  “If all it took was a luxurious suite to make you this ecstatic, perhaps I should’ve brought you here from the start.”

  “I’m ecstatic to be here. The bedroom’s simply the icing on the cake.” She pushes past me running from one piece of furniture after another. “You got me a chaise lounge? I adore them.”

  “Are you the same woman I brought here, Sasha? You’re like a kid at Christmastime.”

  She tosses her head. “You would be, too, if someone fulfilled your most secret fantasies.”

  “Then perhaps I should be dancing around instead of you.

  She casts a playful frown and jumps on the mahogany bed. Crawling to the center, she throws herself against the downy pillows.

  “You’re only proving my point,” I warn good-naturedly.

  She giggles. “I don’t care. It’s so much nicer than anything I could’ve dreamt up. So soft.” She sits up. “Come feel.”

  Sitting on the bed, I run my hands over the dark comforter. “You’re right.”

  She throws her arms around my neck. “Oh, Monroe, thank you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  She eases back. “For what?”

  “For being here. For giving us a chance.” My voice turns husky and I release her, not wanting her to see me struggle with my emotions. “I-I’ve waited a long time for you. Many a lonely night I wondered if I would ever find someone.” I clear my throat. “When Bast married Alexia, I was happy for him. Except, all throughout the celebration I kept my distance from the happy couple. Bitterness made me wonder if I was cursed . . . then, I saw you.”

  I look into her eyes. They widen with sympathy. I rub my thumbs over her cheeks. “For the first time I hoped. I planned. I had the perfect strategy. I’m a hunter by nature, so it seemed simple. I entered your dreams and thought to conquer you. But, I realized I was wrong. I found the loneliness you buried deep in the recesses of your mind. I brought those thoughts forward.”

  She scrambles to the other side of the bed. I reach for her, but she yanks her hand away.

  “Please, let me tell you.” Her shoulders sag as I say, “I’m sorry for hurting you. After my discovery, each moment I appeared to you, I found my love growing. When you agreed to marry me . . .” I choke on the last two words. “Blast it, I’m beginning to blubber.”

  “I don’t think badly of you.”

  Standing, I turn my back to her. Emotion rises in my chest. “When you agreed to marry me, my whole existence made sense. I wasn’t an empty half anymore. I was one part of a whole.” What’s wrong with me? I never cry. Embarrassed, I stride toward the door.

  There’s a rustle and then Sasha wraps her arms around my waist. “I had no idea you were so lonely, too. I’ve wanted someone to belong to, Monroe. Someone who would believe in me, even when I have trouble believing in myself.”

  I turn around and press my forehead hers. Our tears mingle together, and she stands on tiptoe, bringing my face down to hers. She kisses my cheeks, my eyes, and then my mouth. Kissing her back, my throat clogs with emotion. “I thought you’d hate me if I told you. I was certain you’d say you never wanted to see me again.”

  “Monroe, you fool,” she says, between urgent kisses. “You forget I knew you were in my mind. You’ve told me you found things there.” She lets go of me and laughs. “It was terrible what you did to me, but I can forgive you. I’m glad you told me.”

  I let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why. I wasn’t planning to.” Was it Lily, or fear of losing Sasha? Perhaps what Lily can do? In any case, I won’t worry Sasha. I can’t put that burden on her.

  She rubs my back. “Sometimes the best things aren’t planned.”

  Another memory breaks through. My mother announcing how she wants me to marry Lily. The argument I had with her and my father. I shut my eyes. Even in death, I can feel their support for the damn tigress. Bile rises in my throat.

  “Perhaps you two need dinner?” Ayres’ voice cuts in.

  I turn and glare at my impassive valet, then glance at Sasha. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not very. Are you?”

  “No. However, we better go. My illustrious valet doesn’t approve of us being alone in here.”

  “Okay.”

  I frown at Ayres. “All right, old man, we’re going and we don’t need a chaperone.”

  “We’ll see.” Ayres inclines his head. “Welcome to Dubay Castle, Miss Brighton.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy your stay, miss,” Ayres replies and disappears.

  She gasps. “Does he always do that?”

  “What?” I look around in confusion.

  “Appear and reappear like he’s made of air?”

  “Yes,” I reply as we walk down the corridors to the dining hall. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I don’t know.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I’m right here, and I’ll help you.”

  When we enter the dining hall, Ayres materializes and pulls out a chair for Sasha, who eyes him warily. I hide my amusement and sit at the head of the table, next to Sasha.

  Sasha clamps a hand over her mouth. “Do you eat like this often?”

  I follow her gaze to the table laden with a myriad of food options from chicken to beef, salads, and three different kinds of vegetables. “I usually don’t even come to the dining hall. However, I will eat at home while you’re visiting.”

  “You didn’t have to change anything for me.” She places a napkin on her lap.

  “There are things I’m accustomed to which I wasn’t certain you would be comfortable with.�
��

  “What do you normally do?”

  “For starters, if I eat at home, my meals are delivered on a tray to my bedroom or den. Secondly, I generally don’t eat supper in human form, you understand?”

  She crosses and uncrosses her legs.

  Sympathy rises in me. “I realize this may not be the easiest thing for you to hear, but I prefer most of my meat . . .” I trail off a moment and watch her expression as I say, “Raw.”

  She pushes her chair back a bit. “I see.”

  “I thought you might like a familiar face rather than being left with servants while I satisfied my more natural instincts.” Although, is she more uncomfortable with me here after what I’ve said? I swallow a sip of wine, wondering how to proceed.

  She gulps a sip from her glass.

  “I hope that’s water,” I say as she puts the glass down. “I told Ayres your preferences.”

  “It is.”

  “Good. I don’t have to throw him out.

  She pales slightly.

  Great. I’ve scared her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “You’re quite sure?”

  Silently, she nods.

  We finish our meal in silence. Sasha dabs her mouth with one of the silk napkins and leans back. A maid rushes to clear her plate.

  “Thank you,” she tells the servant.

  The maid curtsies.

  Sasha laughs. I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve never had anyone do that.”

  “Ah.” Rising from my chair, I offer Sasha my arm. “If you’re ready, my dear, we can relax in one of the private rooms prepared for you.”

  “Yes, please.”

  I escort her from the room, down a series of corridors, until we reach a plainly decorated room. Inside, in front of a large fireplace, a loveseat and a coffee table are set up.

  “This is cozy,” she remarks as I guide her to the loveseat.

  Anxious, I ask, “Are you all right, now? At dinner it didn’t seem the details of my more feral side sat very well with you.”

  “While I ate I realized it makes sense.”

  “It’s better you know everything sooner rather than later.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Pacing the length of the room, I rub my chin. “What haven’t I told you?”

  “Do you prefer your lion form over your human?”

  I stop in front of the fireplace and lean against the mantelpiece. “Depends on the situation. With you, I prefer my human form because you’re human.” I pause. How should I continue? “If I’m hunting, I prefer being a lion. Most of the time I’m human. The shape doesn’t matter, I’m comfortable in both.”

  “Do you think you could show me what you look like as a lion?”

  I whirl around. “You won’t be terrified?”

  Shivering, she hugs herself. “Well, yes, I will. But, I might as well see what you look like.”

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know how to communicate with an animal,” she murmurs.

  I stifle a chuckle. “Sasha, you’re thinking in terms of First Realm experiences. We Thirdling man-beasts are different, save for a few instances. Let me see if I can put this into terms you’ll understand . . .” An expectant silence permeates the space between us. Then an idea occurs to me. “Have you read Firstling author, C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles Of Narnia?”

  She smiles. “I loved them.”

  “You know how the lion, Aslan, was able to communicate with the children by speaking to them?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “It’s sort of the same principle. My voice is the same, merely gruffer.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll simply look different.”

  “Okay.” She hugs her knees to her chest. “Go ahead and show me.”

  I roll my eyes. “No reason to be scared.”

  She lifts her chin defensively. “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Perhaps.” I make my way past the coffee table, chairs, and loveseat to a clear spot on the other side of the room. “If you insist.” Lowering myself to the floor, I close my eyes and focus my thoughts. A light tingle starts at my feet and spreads through me. I feel my human body melt away. Opening my eyes, I swish my tails back and forth. Sasha claps her hands over her mouth. I watch her expression change from fear, to horror, then, fascination.

  “This is me,” I growl. “Well, the other side of me, anyway.”

  She presses herself against the couch cushions. I will her not to be afraid. Then, in tiny, hesitant steps, she approaches me.

  “It’s all right.” I lower my voice to my softest growl. “It’s only me.”

  I lower my head into her palm. I rub my head along her fingertips.

  “You’re like a kitty cat.” She laughs, high and unnatural.

  “You’ve tamed me.”

  I raise my head and she stares into my eyes. “I do see you.”

  “Yes,” I rumble. “You’ve nothing to fear. You’re my chosen mate, I’ll not harm you.”

  She shivers at the word ‘mate’.

  “My chosen wife,” I amend.

  “That’s a little easier to handle.” Her fingers gently tug through my mane. “Feels like satin.”

  I feel my mouth curve into a catlike grin. “I told you man-beasts were different.”

  She buries her face in my mane. “You smell the same, too. Male and outdoorsy.”

  “And you smell like flowers,” I answer, breathing in her delicate fragrance.

  “Silly kitty.”

  I nuzzle her hand. “Sweet lioness.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for my lady.”

  She takes a step backward. “You can turn back to a human, now.”

  Closing my eyes, the lion form disappears. I reopen my eyes and stand.

  “How do you manage to do that fully clothed?” she asks. “I would’ve thought you’d tear right through the fabric.”

  I clasp her hands in mine. “It’s magic, my sweet.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not the only man-beast here, and some can do things I’m incapable of doing.”

  “Well, I don’t care. I think you’re impressive.”

  A voice clears his throat. “After-dinner coffee, sir?”

  Exasperation wells in me. “Oh for love of the Third Realm, Ayres!”

  Sasha giggles. “I’ll have some.”

  “Of course, miss.”

  I mutter under my breath about servants with bad timing. Ayres’ face remains impassive as he hands me the other cup, bows, and leaves the room.

  “Remind me to fire him the next time he interrupts us.”

  Sasha nudges my shoulder. “No way. He’s nice.”

  “He’s a nuisance.”

  “How about a new subject?” She takes my free hand, leading me to the loveseat. She raises her mug. “This is really good.”

  “Poor recompense for his timing.”

  She sets aside her coffee. “How can we cheer you up?”

  Giving her a sidelong glance, amusement rises in me. “I’ve a few ideas.”

  “I bet.”

  I draw her into my embrace. “Several, in fact.” I capture her mouth with mine.

  As soon as the kiss begins, I’m lost. The delicious taste of her sweet mouth, tinged with a hint of rich coffee seduces my senses. She is my lioness, her every desire my command. I’ll give her anything.

  The Creator help me, I need her like I need air.

  Chapter 18: Sasha

  Sunlight peeks through the window and dances across the wall. I lean against the pillows, savoring the last few days.

  Saturday evening the stars shone down as Monroe and I strolled along his back balcony overlooking a reflecting pool. His whispered compliments still make my cheeks burn.

  Sunday, he took me to his Castle’s tiny chapel. The beautiful stain glass windows and the private service were peaceful. The short, plump priest
reminded me of a fairy-tale dwarf. He had kind eyes and afterwards told me he hoped we would be very happy.

  A sigh escapes me. How lucky am I?

  The door flies open and Serena, the maid Monroe assigned to me, comes in. Her pale copper eyes gaze at me with curiosity. Why doesn’t she ever ask me the question on her mind?

  She curtsies. “Miss Brighton, Lord Monroe would like to know if you wouldn’t mind going with him to pay a visit to Lord and Lady Cantrell?”

  “Who?”

  “I’m sorry. Lord Bast and Lady Alexia.”

  I pick up a robe and slip from the bed. “Oh, his friends.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Butterflies take up residence in my stomach. What will they think of me? Will they think I’m good enough for Monroe even though I haven’t any magic? “Okay.”

  “Very good, miss.”

  I bite my lip. “I don’t know what to wear.”

  “I can help, if you’d like,” she says shyly.

  “Please.” I start toward my suitcases.

  She shakes her head. “No, miss. Not there.” She leads the way to the walk-in closet. I peer through the doorway to watch. She sorts through expensive-looking clothes before choosing out a white and blue ankle-length dress.

  She carries the garment out carefully and lays it on the bed. Tentatively I touch the skirt. Fabric softer and more delicate than silk caresses my hand.

  I yank my hand back with a jerk. “I can’t wear this.”

  “Believe me, miss, you’ll fit right in with Lady Cantrell. I hear she’s elegant even in the most informal occasions. You must wear it.”

  “But, what if I get something on the skirt? Or worse, tear the hem?” I finger the dress again. “I’m used to suits and cotton.”

  “Please, miss. Don’t argue. If Lord Monroe hears he’ll yell at me for upsetting you.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  She wrings her hands and shifts her weight back and forth. “He’s ordered the staff to see to your every need and comfort. We can’t disobey. We’ll be fired.”

  Exasperated, I smack my forehead. “Good grief!”

  She jumps.

  I lower my voice. “All right. I wouldn’t want you to lose your job because of me.”

  “Thank you, miss. I’ll help you.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’ve never dressed such a grand lady. Please allow me.”