The Lion's Castle
Leslie Chase
Contents
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Leslie Chase
The Lion’s Castle
Cover Design by Kasmit Covers
Editing by Sennah Tate
Copyright 2016 Leslie Chase
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
1
The first thing Roman noticed when he stepped into the office was how nervous his brother Matt looked. That wasn't new, but he didn't usually look that bad.
The second thing was that Gabe was there too. All three of us, in one room? That can't be good, he thought. It had been a long time since the brothers had met up: the risks weren't worth it. Gabe stood at the window, staring out at the city beneath them, millions of lights shining in the night.
"What's up?" Roman asked, dropping into a seat opposite Matt and grinning. "You look like it's the end of the world."
Matt fixed him with a look, but he just chuckled. That might work on everyone else, but not his brothers. "You can't pretend nothing's happening, not when you've brought in Gabe as well."
"I'm here because it's family business," Gabe said, not turning away from the window. His voice was low, rough, almost sad. "It's time to go home."
Roman's face twitched. "What's changed?"
He looked past his brother and out into the city beyond. The three brothers might have lived there all their lives, but it wasn't really their home. Still, it would be a lot to give up what he'd built here to move back to the old country permanently.
"Grandfather passed away," Matt said, frowning at Roman. "As you'd know if you paid any attention at all to what's going on at home. So now we have to take up our responsibilities, Roman. Someone has to take up the mantle of King."
That made Roman wince. He'd never been close to their Grandfather — none of the brothers had been. The old lion was — or rather, had been — a harsh ruler in the old style, and it had always seemed like he'd live forever. Lion shifters could live a very long time, after all, and he had outlived all his children.
Though that was more down to the assassins than his own long life.
But if the old man was dead, then someone had to rule in his place. Since the fall of the roman empire, their small kingdom had been guided by lion shifters and it was unthinkable to let that tradition lapse. It was a sacred bond with the land of the country, and who could say what would happen if they abandoned it?
"Well, I don't want the title," he said aloud. "You can have it, Matt, you were always closest to Grandfather. Or you, Gabe, you're the oldest. Leave me out of it."
"You know it doesn't work like that," Gabe snarled, his lion springing up as he finally turned away from the window. "The heirs go to the castle, and the land chooses its king. That's the tradition, and that's how we're going to handle it."
That was the ancient tradition of Leotania and one reason that their lion shifter dynasty had ruled there for so long. Having a king fated to the land was more than simply a justification for their rule, it meant that the best-suited child would inherit — in most kingdoms, the eldest son took the throne. In Leotania, fate chose from the eldest litter of cubs. And lion shifters, like the animals with which they shared their souls, tended to have multiple births like Roman and his brothers.
It didn't always work out perfectly, of course, and Roman knew that it had faltered occasionally. The late king only had single children, leaving Roman's father as crown prince by default as the only child in the eldest litter.
That was unusual for a lion shifter family, and Roman knew it was a bad omen at the time. One which hadn't proved wrong — the attack on his parents had nearly ended the royal line. Leotania's unusual inheritance system had its good points, but it was far from perfect.
There was another peculiarity of the old traditions, too, one that Roman could raise without reopening the old wound of their parents' assassination. None of the brothers enjoyed thinking about that.
"The tradition also says we turn up with our mates," Roman pointed out, running his fingers through his long blond hair. "Maybe that was easier back in the day, when the old families arranged marriages for their children, but I can't help noticing none of us have mates to bring."
His brothers both looked uncomfortable at that, and Roman smirked. The old traditions didn't mean that much to him, but he knew them well enough to needle Matt and Gabe with them.
"We'll just have to let fate take its course," Matt said, his confidence sounding forced. "That's the point of this, after all - that fate will choose the right ruler for the country. We'll go home, and trust that it works out."
"Fate helps us when we help ourselves," Gabe countered. "You can trust it'll just work out, brother. I will look for my mate myself."
"Yeah, you two do it how you like," Roman said. "I don't want to be King anyway. If I'm disqualified by not having a mate, that's fine by me."
He stood up and stretched, smiling. This doesn't have to be so bad, he thought. "I'm looking forward to visiting the old country, though. I'll see you both there, and good luck finding your mates first."
Matt frowned at him. "Don't take this so lightly. We're vulnerable right now, and whoever sent the assassins after our parents is still out there. Take some security with you, for goodness sake."
Roman half-laughed, half-snarled. "I'm not ready to be fussed over like that, and I won't live my life wrapped in cotton wool. Let them try something. I'm ready for them."
* * *
Far away, in another smaller room, Anna Hall waited and watched uncomfortably as the room filled. It was dark and cold, and Anna didn't feel entirely comfortable, despite her father's presence. It smelled of old smoke and betrayal, and she didn't like it.
If that bothered anyone else, they didn't show it. Anna did her best to hide her nerves, too — she didn't want to disappoint her father or look weak in front of their friends and allies. Once everyone was settled, her father stood and the room was instantly silent.
"The King is dead," her father chortled, rubbing his fat hands together with glee. "Finally, finally the claws of the monster are off our beloved country."
He said it as though he'd had something to do with the death. That was nonsense though — everyone knew that the old man had been ill for years, and no one needed to help him on his way. Still, the people sitting around the room applauded, and Anna could see the pride filling their eyes. Pride and a hatred that made her shiver.
She glanced aside at her sister, but Victoria had the same fanatical look in her eyes. Her sister was younger and had always bought into their father's politics more closely than Anna had. They were the youngest two in the room by some years, and their father had often called them the hope of the new generation.
Anna didn't s
ee much hope, though. It was all hate.
"But the work isn't done," their father said loudly, silencing the room. "Not by a long shot. The three princes are still alive, and we must not sit idly by while one of those monsters takes the throne! This is our time, brothers, our time to strike. Death to the tyrant's heirs!"
A murmur of agreement ran around the room, and Anna shook her head. She was all for modernizing the politics of their small country, but to kill people just because of who their parents were? That felt wrong to her, even if she couldn't voice the thought.
Even if they were monsters, like father told them. Half human, half animal, and entirely without souls, or so he said. He had an endless supply of stories about their inhumanity — that they hunted human children, that they bathed in blood, that they worshiped demons. A never-ending tide of atrocities, so many in fact that they left Anna with the troubling thought that they couldn't all be true. Were any of them? She didn't know, but she still didn't feel comfortable condemning anyone on the basis of what sounded like fairytales.
But if anyone else in the room shared her troubled conscience, they hid it well. A few bloodthirsty smiles showed and Anna had to look away.
"What can we do?" Old Man Kurt asked the question on everyone's minds. "How can we strike against the monsters? We have little to give to the cause."
"We have more than you think," Victoria said, proudly. "We have a source of information on the princes, one who is as keen to cut out the rot from our homeland as we all are. A generous one, too, who has given us enough funds to make sure we can destroy the shifters who would rule our beloved Leotania."
That was news to Anna, but her father had been out a lot recently. And he'd been spending more too, she realized now that she thought of it. Much of it on booze. Maybe he did have a generous new backer to his pet cause of shifter-hate.
"More importantly than funds, he's given us their travel information," her father continued. "We must act quickly, as one of the monsters is flying home soon, and we must strike before he reaches their fortress! At last, our homeland will be free of the shifters that plague it."
He turned to smirk at his daughters, and Anna saw how pleased Victoria looked to have a chance to be a part of this. Anna hoped that she enjoyed it. For herself, though, she just hoped that her father didn't want her to be too involved.
2
Anna sat in the Heathrow airport lounge, resisting the temptation to chew her lip as she waited for Prince Roman to make his connection. Her father’s contacts had let them know what flight he was taking, but there had been no time to get her on the flight from LA. It had taken a huge rush to get her to Britain in time to meet him when he changed planes, and now it looked like he might miss the flight on to Leotania after all.
For the third time she scanned her newspaper, unable to take in a single word of what was written there. She had too much on her mind to pay attention. The print blurred together as she tried to focus on it.
Am I really doing this? It was too late to back out now, she knew. She'd been given a position of honor and trust, and her father would never forgive her if she failed him. He’d been quite clear about that. Their country needed her, and Anna didn't want to let it or her family down.
But everything about the mission felt wrong.
"The shifters are unholy monsters," her father had told her often enough. "They have their powers from hell itself, and they cannot be allowed to taint the sacred land of our forefathers any longer."
Those were words she'd grown up hearing, an attitude she'd grown up believing. And now the grip of the monsters on the throne of her homeland had weakened. They had a chance to stop them. If we don't stop them, who will?
She glanced up at the arrivals board, checking to see if the flight she was waiting for had come in. The flight from Los Angeles had been due a while ago, and with it the man she was supposed to watch. No, not a man, she reminded herself, making an effort to think like she'd been taught. The demon in human form.
Standing, she paced the lounge, feeling sick to her stomach. Too much coffee had left her jittery, and she hadn't been able to force down any food all day. Despite that, she felt nauseous, almost in pain. Another glance at the clock told her that she didn't have long before the flight to Leotania departed.
Maybe he won't make it, she thought. Anna wasn't sure if she hoped for that or not. If he didn't appear, if he'd missed his first flight or something, that wouldn't be her fault and the whole mission would have to be called off. All she'd have to do was report that he hadn't arrived, and she'd have done her job. Not even her father could fault her for a delayed flight.
Deep down, though, she wasn't sure he wouldn't blame her anyway if something went wrong.
Conflicting emotions made her feel worse, and she picked up her half-full coffee cup, trying to decide whether or not to drink it. The very thought made her stomach heave, and she hurried towards the nearest restroom.
I can't do this, part of her insisted. I have to, another answered. Caught up in her internal argument, she didn't even notice the man striding around the corner until she ran into him. Her coffee cup went flying, and so did she, bouncing off the man as though he were a wall of solid granite. Anna stumbled, tried to catch her balance, failed and fell backward, giving out a little squeak of panic as she went.
Strong hands grabbed her arms. They held her safe, gently lowering her to the ground and turning the inelegant fall into a controlled landing. Looking up, her heart pounding, Anna took a deep breath to steady herself. She didn't know whether to thank the man for catching her or shout at him for not watching where he was going in the first place.
Instead, what came out was another undignified squeak. She recognized the man bending over her, tall and broad-shouldered, his grip firm and strong, his eyes a strange and piercing amber, long blond hair framing his face. There was no mistaking him. Roman Alexander. Prince Roman. Lion shifter, one of the heirs to the throne of Leotania, and the man she was there to watch.
Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him. Preparing for her mission she'd looked at photos of him and knew that he was handsome and rugged. It was nothing compared to being in his presence.
There was something about the man which drove the breath from her lungs and made her heart pound. He was stunning, gorgeous and so unbelievably hot in a way that the photos couldn't convey. She could stare at him for hours.
My God, he's gorgeous. She knew she should have been thinking of something, anything, else. That didn't help, though. Roman looked handsome enough in pictures, but in the flesh he was something else. It was like looking at a work of art you have to stand in front of to properly appreciate. He belonged in a museum somewhere, as an example of how to build the perfect man.
Anna felt her cheeks heat and her body tingled as he said something. She had no idea what it was, what he had said, but she was nodding anyway, smiling and nodding like an idiot. Get a grip, girl, she told herself fiercely. I'm on a mission here!
In truth, she'd already blown the mission. She was supposed to keep an eye on him and not be seen doing it, to let her father and his allies know where their enemy was. Now, though, she was in his arms, being steadied on her feet by the man she was meant to keep under subtle observation.
It was hard to care about the mission, though. Not when she could look up into his deep and intense amber eyes and lose herself in their depths. She swallowed, forcing herself to look away, and felt her cheeks heat as she blushed. Her body responded to his presence immediately and it took her a moment to remind herself of the situation.
Get a grip, Anna, she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut. He's the enemy, remember? And you're in an airport, don't make more of a spectacle of yourself than you already have!
For a moment she worried what he'd think of her, before reminding herself again that it didn't matter. He shouldn't be thinking about her at all. He shouldn't even know that she was watching him. A minute into her first mission, and she'd already
failed.
* * *
Roman looked down at the woman in his arms and couldn't help staring. In seconds he'd gone from being annoyed at the delayed flight, angry at being splashed with coffee, and now straight into shocked surprise.
There was something about her he couldn't place, something that made him feel at home. It was a strange thing to feel in an airport, traveling to a country he hadn't lived in since he was a small boy. He had to take a deep breath and remember where he was, what he was doing, and that brought back his frustration.
I should have been watching where I was going, he told himself. Being in a rush was no excuse — it was his own fault for booking the quickest trip he could find, wanting to get to Leotania as quickly as possible. The small European country didn't get many flights, being practically forgotten by the outside world. He cut his connection close, and the delay in LA nearly made him miss the flight.
There were good reasons to keep the country hidden like that, he supposed. Tradition had it that an ancient spell kept them protected and forgotten by everyone outside of the shifter community. It had certainly kept Leotania safe from the chaos of history, but it did make traveling there a pain.
And now, with just minutes to go before the only flight left, he'd run into someone at full speed. Just my damned luck. At least her coffee was cold, he told himself, shaking off his splashed sleeve.
Looking at her, he saw how pale the woman was, and he could feel her arm trembling in his grip. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember that traveling was stressful for everyone. She really didn't seem to be handling the pressure well, though. He let go of her and she snatched her arm back from him as though afraid he'd bite.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her over for injuries as she nodded quickly. The woman didn't look hurt, and what he saw of her took his breath away. She was short and curvy, her dark hair making her pale skin all the more striking, her heart shaped face beautiful. Her bright green eyes met his and for a moment he was frozen by the impact of them.
The Lion's Castle (The Lion Princes Book 1) Page 1
