Ice blinked a few times, and touched his own face as his smile grew. “I guess I am. And this feeling…the need to be with you, to see you happy…am I falling in love with you, too?”
Alana’s heart tumbled in her chest, and she laughed. “I think you might be.”
A silence fell over them until the prime minister spoke, his voice thin and shaky. “What have you done?”
The empress approached him. “I believed as you do, all along, Hallow. We will destroy ourselves if something isn’t done. And this is the best way. We were wrong, Prime Minister. But it’s not too late to save ourselves.”
He straightened but didn’t try to pull away from Storm’s grip. “I will not stand by and watch our people tainted by humanity. Especially not from a detention center.” He took a deep breath and looked at the empress defiantly. “Begin final sequence now.”
“No,” the empress said, grabbing his shoulders. “No, it’s not necessary. We can—”
Storm pressed Hallow to the floor, patting all over his body. “Where is it?”
The prime minister closed his eyes. Storm flipped him onto his back and tore open his shirt to reveal a small circle the size of a quarter blinking in the center of the man’s chest. It shone brightly, then went dark.
Prime Minister Hallow was dead.
“He would not let go of the idea that Arcana was flawed, but necessary.” The empress stared down at him, shaking her head. “He needn’t have died like this.”
“You believed that, too?” Ice said, his arm sliding around Alana’s waist to pull her close. She leaned into him, grateful for the contact.
“I did, Minister. We all did, except my son. He began changing our minds over time, stressing the necessity of keeping our population strong, vital.” She straightened her shoulders. “He knows some of our true history, but he does not know of this relic. I didn’t bring him here, because I feared treachery, and our emperor must survive to lead us into this new era.”
She shook her head at Hallow’s body and sighed. “I regret the deception, and I will apologize to the people for it. But regardless of the consequences, they have a right to know.”
Storm moved to stand next to Ice and Alana. “So the people are to know what took place here?” He glanced at the body on the floor. “All of it?”
“Yes. We will live in the truth from now on, and I’m sure it will lead to a better world for all our people.” She took Alana’s hand in her cold one, and seemed to be trying to smile at her, ever so slightly. “Thanks to you and your discovery that humans can affect change in our people, I think we can find our way back.” She patted Alana’s hand. “Once the relic is recovered, we will begin the process of explaining to the populace where they really came from, and why more missions to earth are needed to strengthen our civilization.”
“I’ll have my people begin excavations immediately,” Ice said.
Storm stared at the book behind the crystal. “The emperor will want us to arrange another mission as soon as possible. I’ll consult with him right away.”
The empress wasn’t listening. She was enraptured watching Ice’s smile. She squeezed Alana’s hand and tilted her head. “I hope you can teach me to do that.”
To genuinely smile?
For the first time since she’d been whisked away from her bridal shop and everything she knew, Alana felt confident that she could.
Epilogue
Alana rested her cheek against Ice’s chest and snuggled into him and the covers. She’d quickly grown used to sleeping next to him, and the difference between his coolness and the warmth of the bed had become a familiar comfort.
His hand glided up and down her back and hip, and her breasts pressed against the side of his chest. They fit together perfectly. Ice sighed in contentment as both their heartbeats slowed.
Their lovemaking had grown more and more intense the more time they spent together. So much so that smiles and laughter from Ice were part of everyday instead of rare occurrences.
“Wife,” he said softly. “I enjoy thinking of you in that way. My wife.”
“I like it, too.” She kissed his chest. Alana had thought she might never marry—on earth. But when Ice asked her to be his wife, she hadn’t even needed a second to consider what it meant. She’d said yes almost before he’d finished the question. She knew she was exactly where she was meant to be. “I like referring to you as my husband.”
She’d been so touched when he’d wanted to arrange a wedding ceremony that rivaled the ones she’d described to him on earth—where the brides dress up and feel like a princess for a day. He’d wanted it to be magical for her, and she’d been moved by his caring.
But she hadn’t wanted any of that. Having Ice look at her and genuinely smile, his light eyes shining with love for her, had been all the magic she’d needed.
A soft smile graced his face. “I never imagined there could be more to life besides the pursuit of scientific knowledge.” He squeezed her bottom. “But being in love with you, touching you, that has become as important to me as anything I’ve ever done. I’m glad the prime minister sabotaged our ship. If I hadn’t been forced into the quick decision of bringing you with us, none of this would have happened.”
Alana laughed. “No. Because I thought you were either a gay couple or trolling cosplayers. We certainly wouldn’t have spent much more time together.”
Ice held her tighter, as if the very thought of it troubled him. “Then I owe Hallow a debt of gratitude, as misguided as his actions were. How ironic that his attempts to stop humans from bringing out Crimeans’ buried emotions are what actually caused the thing he most feared.”
Alana moved on top of Ice, straddling his hips and gazing down at him. “In trying to sabotage the mission, he made it a success, didn’t he?”
“In part.” Ice’s strong hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. A lifetime of burying his emotions gone, Ice had proven to be the most passionate, eager lover she’d ever had. Alana melted into it and chased his lips when he tilted his head to meet her eyes. “You’re really what made it a success. Through you, we found a way to ensure our future.”
Ice slipped his hand between them and rubbed his knuckles gently across her lower belly. “And through you, perhaps even more changes are possible. Not just Crimeans falling in love with each other and reproducing, but human genes reinjected into our people. Future generations born without having evolved to suppress their feelings.”
A shiver went through Alana at the thought of bearing Ice’s child. As far as she knew, she wasn’t pregnant. Not yet. But as long as Ice was right, that their genetics had remained similar enough that pregnancy was still possible between humans and Crimeans, Alana fully expected to one day be a mother.
She could have asked for prevention. Birth control long ago designed for Crimean women could have been modified for her quite easily, Ice had explained.
Alana had just had a powerful lesson about how sometimes the things one resists can end up being what one really needs after all. By choosing to prevent pregnancy, she could be preventing something wonderful, something fulfilling that would make her and so many other people happy.
So they made love with abandon, and let the fates take care of it.
“The thought of someday carrying your child,” she whispered, grinding her hips down against Ice. “Well, you know what that thought does to me.”
“I do, my love. Why do you think I brought it up?” His wicked smile made her laugh as he rolled them over so he was above her.
“When is launch tomorrow?” she asked, giggling as he nibbled at her neck. The Campania II had been prepared and fitted to be the safest exploration ship Crimea had ever built. Sabotage was much less a worry now that the truth about Crimea had been slowly revealed to the population. The relic told the story of the eighteen humans who’d landed there and slowly populated the planet. When the citizens saw how closely the real story was to the earliest mythologies—eighteen god
More importantly for Crimea, the people were opening up to the idea of emotions and love, especially those who saw the changes in Ice.
Happiness, it seemed, was contagious.
“The ship leaves at lightrise,” Ice mumbled, and licked a stripe up her throat. “Unless Commander Storm declares a mutiny and refuses to go.”
Storm seemed intrigued by Ice’s emotions but worried that his feelings could affect the strength of the military. And he balked at the idea that he should look for a mate on earth. The emperor hand-picked some of the strongest and brightest among all Crimeans to go on the mission, and Storm was one of them. They were both women and men, all tasked with mixing in with humans and learning to feel again.
Storm had crossed his arms and said, “I’m a warrior. I have no time for such things.” But the emperor had merely dropped his chin and stared at Storm until he agreed to follow his command.
Ice chuckled against her shoulder, then kissed the corner of her mouth. “Storm’s going to be a hard case. He got us kicked out of numerous places merely by talking to women. It’s going to take a female of great fortitude and patience to get through his hard-shell exterior.”
“I know a few who are capable,” Alana said, but she was tired of talking about such things. She wrapped her legs around Ice’s hips to pull him down. “But this woman is getting impatient for her husband.”
“Fiery,” he said, then kissed her so thoroughly her toes curled.
Tomorrow a whole new crew of Crimeans would leave for earth to find mates, and Alana would be in charge of helping the humans who returned to understand their roles.
Ice sank into her, making Alana cry out at the pleasure.
If the human women who came here were as lucky as she’d been, they’d be spending their days being loved by men who were just rediscovering the joys of it.
No more bridezillas. Helping humans adapt to their new lives was probably going to be the easiest job in the world.
When Ice groaned into her ear, Alana pushed those thoughts away and focused on the man she’d somehow taught to love. There would be plenty of time to consider the rest later.
Right now, she just wanted to feel.
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Lizzie Lynn Lee is a gutter-minded hopeless romantic who doesn’t live in this world most of the time. In her perfect utopia, her heroes never take their women for granted, love at first sight exists and soul mates always find a way to be together. She invites you to visit her world, where she spins her tales because the men are sizzling hot, master the art of sex and they are really into their ladies—be that a slim girl, or curvy, interracial, interspecies, sassy or shy—their adventures redefine erotica. Are you ready to be thrilled?
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Lizzie Lynn Lee Bibliography
Shunga Chronicles: Lady of the Snow
Love in the Elevator
Shunga Chronicles: Prince and the Assassin
Payback
Shunga Chronicles: Flight of the Heron
Wicked Game
Eve Aizawa: Eve of Seduction
Busted
Eve Aizawa: Deus Eve Machina
Sexopalooza
Switched
Cyber Lover
Jumping Bones
The Wolf She Married
Savannah’s Menage
Charly’s Chocolate Factory with Celia Kyle
Original Sin
Lycan Wars 1: Instinct
Claimed
Hot-Blooded
Fierce Heat with Celia Kyle
Orient Fevre
Gilded Cage
Corporate Plaything
Spirit World: Maison Plaisir
To Bed A Goddess
The Last Siren
The Donor
The Alien King and I
Dangerous Curves: Wet
Lions of the Serengeti: Jennifer’s Lion
Lions of the Serengeti: Sarah’s Lion
Bound to Me: Fever Lust
Private Sessions
Lions of the Serengeti: Caly’s Lion
Faerykin
Werebeasties
Dragon Hunts
Night of the Lions
Chain of Lust
Taken By a Nymph
Maiden and the Lion
Dominate Me with Noelle Ashford
To Blackmail a Billionaire with Noelle Ashford
Her Dragon Billionaire
Kidnapped and Claimed
Her Tiger Billionaire
Raven’s Bride
Her Lion Billionaire
Bad Dick
Naughty Librarian
Lions of the Serengeti: Yazmina’s Lion
Naughty Boys
Scorched
Tamed
The Man with the Dragon Wings
Tiger In Her Bed
Hot Like Fire, Cold As Ice
Animalistic
My Boss is a Lion
Fairy Godlover
Wicked As He Comes
Tiger Speed Dating
Romance Warfare
Spotilicious
Tiger Mate
Lone Tiger and Cub
The Duke is a Lion
Firefox: A Fox Demon’s Claim
Single Weretiger DILF
Special Preview from Single Weretiger DILF
Juliette Crabtree stifled a yawn and took another swig of her steaming black coffee from the mug. The brew scalded her tongue a little but it didn’t bother her. Despite making it extra strong—a double-espresso—the coffee failed to give her the super-charged caffeine effect she was looking for. It had been brutal when she finally roused herself out of bed two hours earlier. She’d been pulling late hours for the past three days filling a large order and she was exhausted. Making pastries and candies for people to enjoy was her passion, but she loved doing it long after the sun was up. Five-thirty in the morning wasn’t a good hour of the day to be doing anything but curling up under a thick comforter and dreaming of new recipes, or occasionally dreaming that her life might have turned out differently.
She gusted a little sigh.
The pink rose-infused macaron shells were lined up on the baking tray ready to be filled and assembled. Juliette cracked a tiny smile. Watching her creations gave her a sense of pride. Macaron shell had a bastardly reputation of being difficult to make. One small misstep and she’d end up with heap of unappetizing almond meringue lumps instead of pastel-colored delicately airy cookies. Good thing that the God of Macarons bestowed His blessing today. Everything came out perfectly. Her sweets would give some Parisian bakeries run for their money. Maybe even comparable to the famed Ladurée pastry house, if she said so herself.
Now all she had to do was to pipe the filling and assembled them. The thick, creamy, rose-flavored ganache was just at the right temperature and consistency to work with. As she scooped the filling into the pastry bag, a subtle yet tantalizing Bulgarian rose scent wafted from the bowl. She couldn’t resist taking a spoon and sampling the filling.
Hmm. So damn good, she moaned in pleasure as she was momentarily transported into sweet sugary clouds of nirvana. If she were allowed to have her little own way, she could eat the whole bowl by herself. Despite being a weretiger, Juliette had a chronic sweet tooth. Like hard core. Opening a French confectionery as her day job fueled her sugar addiction swimmingly.
As soon as she finished the macarons, the alarm on the oven chimed. The almond croissants had finished baking. She turned off the timer and unloaded the trays and the oven was ready for the next batch of morning pastries. After the macarons, she would make some eclair and tarte aux pommes.
All in all, today’s work was a pretty good distraction. Juliette had promised herself she wasn’t going to think about depressing things today. Not today, the anniversary of her divorce from the man she thought she’d be with the rest of her life. The man who cast her out over something she couldn’t possibly control.
“Ouch,” she yelped as she accidentally bumped her arm too close to a hot tray. “Nope. Today’s going to be good. It’s just a tiny burn that you won’t feel in a few minutes. You’re not going to let it bother you, because it’s a beautiful day, and you’re about to open and make some customers happy. Smile, Juliette. Smiiile!”
She realized Andy, one of her two employees, was leaning on the end of the counter holding a freshly baked tray of Kouign Amann, their second-bestselling pastry. Andy’s hairnet and beard-net framed the most amused expression she’d ever seen him wear. His smile widened. “It’s one thing to talk to yourself, but do you ever answer yourself?” he quipped. “Should I be worried about this? Can you still sign our paychecks?”
“Sometimes I do answer myself.” Her grin widened. “But at least it’s intelligent conversation.”
“Touché,” he said with a chuckle. “Gonna rack these to cool, then put them in the case.”
“Great, thanks. And the other voices in my head want me to thank you too.”
Andy laughed, saluted her, and headed to the other side of the kitchen to properly cool the pastries. “Juliette’s talking to herself again,” he said to her other employee, Noelle.
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