Royally Charmed: A Royal Bad Boy Shifter Romance

by Lea Jade

When we get there, I tuck the car in further down the lane, a ten-minute walk or so from the driveway. I would park closer, to save Haile the walk, but my Jag is recognizable in these parts. It wouldn’t do to be seen coming here, to the crime scene in broad daylight. Haile doesn’t complain or ask why so I don’t bother to come up with an excuse. She just takes it on the nose and walks with me, despite her heels, all the way to the house.

  Halfway there, she stumbles in her ridiculously, high-heeled shoes and I catch her, holding her in my arms for a few seconds. I hear her heart beating faster and the sharp intake of her breath. I can almost taste her arousal it’s so thick in the air. She blushes and rights herself, pulling away. A vivid memory of last night—taking her beautiful breasts in my mouth while she writhed and moaned beneath me—has me so hard I can hardly walk or think straight.

  I’m so turned on, I don’t realize I’ve taken her hand until I’ve already done so. Just to help her get through the long weeds around the property. She quickly drops my hand once we’re back on even terrain.

  “So how long have you been a warlock?” she asks, squinting at me.

  Ah, here we go. Let’s see how you handle this one, Caleb.

  “How about you tell me about you first? You’re a member of the Eastern Coven Witches Association, I assume? How did you end up working with the warlocks?”

  She sighs, her breath making a whoosh sound as she lets it out. “Yes and no. Our coven is with ECWA, they act as our main representative, but a lot of our witches are in training. My mother is the high priestess of one of the best witchcraft academies in the States so there’s a lot of non-eastern witches in our ranks. Most end up staying when they graduate.”

  “High Vale Academy, right? I hear it’s one of the elite. Hard to get into.” I look over at her and smile. “If your mother is the high priestess, I bet you gradated top of the class.” When her cheeks flush, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. Smart witch.

  She narrows her eyes at me, but there’s a gleam in her eye. “Hey, I worked just as hard as everyone else to get where I am today, thank you.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I say and mean it.

  “So, is that what you graduated to do? Paranormal investigation?”

  She snorts a laugh. “Oh, goddess no. I have a real-world degree. I trained to be a lawyer.”

  I give a low whistle. “Impressive. Which firm do you work for?”

  She looks at the ground and then shakes her head. “I don’t. It’s just a degree. I will probably never use it.”

  “So, do you work for the academy then?”

  “Yes, well… I work in the academy library actually. But It's just a temp job until I can get my witchcraft practitioner’s license.”

  This time I raise a brow, unable to help the smile on my face. “Wait, so you’re a sexy librarian?”

  She hits me playfully on the arm. “Oh, don’t tease me. I worked so hard to get all straight As. It's not all bad. Occasionally, I get to fill in for the faculty when the Council petitions support from the academy for assignments such as this, but most of the time all I do is stack books in the basement.”

  “Why, though?” I don’t doubt she could do anything if she put her mind to it.

  She sighs. “Well, when my dad left, my mother didn’t handle it very well. I ended up staying at the academy to be close to her. Seemed a good way to earn the hours needed to gain my magic license. But then I needed a job, and the hours were easy so… I’ve no idea why I’m telling you this. I don’t even know you that well.” She hesitates, and then looks up at me, cautious all of a sudden. So I do what I never do, I open up.

  “Okay, let’s rectify that. I’ll tell you some things about me so we’re equal.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, I’m the youngest but I’m also the most powerful born in our family. I had an elite education in Western Europe. I didn’t grow up here so sometimes I feel like an alien in my own home, never mind country. I’m next in-line to inherit everything, but there’s a lot of family politics. Everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to take my place, so I must continually prove myself.”

  I pause, thinking what to say next but she fills the gap for me.

  “That seems harsh. Do you want to inherit everything?”

  “I do, it’s what I was born for,” I say truthfully.

  “Then you must be glad you have some sort of goal. I’m supposed to be the next high priestess, but honestly, I’m not sure I even want to be one.”

  “Oh, how come?”

  “That’s bad isn’t it? I’m supposed to one day be this great witch, but who wants to peak when they’re fifty? It just feels like a huge commitment. I know we all live longer for our connection to magic, but I can’t stay under my mother’s wing for another twenty-five years. I love her and everything, but I’ll go mad if I do.”

  “Then don’t, come and work here.”

  “Here? Aren’t warlocks always travelling around?”

  “I meant work for me. It’s not uncommon. I could do with a witch on my staff. I’ll make sure those years are not in a basement… unless, of course, you want them to be?” I shoot her a devilish look, so she knows I’m kidding.

  She laughs softly. “I’ll think about it. I might need to know what's in your basement before I decide that though.” There’s a scent of sunshine and contentment in the air, and somewhere deep down my lion purrs. I reach for her hand again. She doesn’t pull away this time. I do spy her looking at me out the corner her eye. Eyebrows pinched, wrinkling her nose up.

  Those jade-green eyes will be the death of me.

  When we get to the crime scene, I lift the police tape so Haile can duck under it, then follow her into the house. Inside, the place is a mess. I hang back by the doorway. I’ve no idea how I’m going to pretend to be a damn warlock, so I just stand there. But I don’t have to worry, Haile gets to work without me, setting up the architecture for the spells—building an altar, drawing geometric patterns around it—so I just sit and watch. If I think about it, it’s what Kai would do anyway, the lazy bastard.

  At the sight of her bending over with her peachy ass in my face, the bulge in my jeans becomes unbearably tight. The acrid tang of dried blood and the prickle of magic already has my beast stirring.

  It takes a lot not to walk over there and just take her.

  And claim her as mine.

  My lion wants to. In his head she’s already his. And now he wants to mark her in some way, prevent other males from sniffing around.

  Mine.

  He all but growls it when she stands up, her hair falling off her face as she smooths it aside. She’s concentrating so hard she doesn’t even notice. If I’m not careful my eyes will turn yellow.

  I’m still thinking of all the things I want to do to her when, suddenly, she huffs and looks at me, a cute frown marring her beautiful face.

  My lion wants to please her, so he pushes me to my feet. “Everything alright?”

  “Mmm… not really.” Her face screws up as she says it. Adorable.

  I walk over to her. She smells upset. I need to fix it. “What’s wrong?”

  She lets out a sigh. “What’s wrong is my magic, that’s what. Urgh! Why can’t I do this?” She gestures to the markings on the floor and I’ve no idea what I’m looking at.

  “Okay, walk me through it.”

  She grimaces at me. Her scent getting spikier by the second. “This isn’t some college field trip. This is real, life or death, and I can’t even do a simple preservation spell.”

  “I get that… but humor me. Walk me through it. Maybe there’s something you’ve missed.”

  “No. It’s my magic. It’s been doing this lately. Sometimes It just won’t spark. It’s like the there’s an ocean of it behind a dam and I can’t figure out how to open the gates anymore. You asked why I stack books, this is why.” She rubs at her temples with one hand and looks at the floor. Looking defeated. A lioness without her roar.

  “Hey, he
y look at me.” I take her chin and draw her face up so she’s gazing at me. “You can do this. You’ve done it before; you must have done otherwise you wouldn’t have finished top of your class. I don’t know what’s happened between then and now, but you will figure it out, how to open the gates again.” As she stares into my eyes, making my heart almost stop, I smile. “Magic happens when you don’t give up, and I know a fighter when I see one.” I brush away a stray lock of hair that’s fallen into her face. “You won’t give up.”

  Then I do what I’ve been wanting to do all morning.

  I bend down and kiss her.

  She yields to me, softening in my arms. Her sweet lips opening to allow me in. She tastes of honey and strawberries. My lion rears up and thoughts about claiming her make me hard again.

  Mine.

  I pull away.

  I don’t trust myself to make it more than a kiss.

  Not after last night.

  Out of nowhere the heavens open, and a torrent of rain falls from the sky. A thunder storm. It doesn’t take long for it to magnify, threatening us with flashes of lightening. Nature doesn’t agree with our union, obviously.

  We’re still inside the house, but as most of the windows are blown out and the door is hanging off its hinges, water runs in from all sides.

  “Oh, shit!” Haile exclaims, running to pick up her spell casting tools.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard her curse.

  I help her, ignoring the buzz of my phone in my pocket until I have quick moment to check it when she’s not looking. Its Kai calling, and it’s a lot later than I thought. We were meant to be at the hotel an hour ago. There are a ton of messages from Trey, but I don’t have time to read them because outside, cruising through the downpour, is a matte-black SUV with my family crest etched into the side panels.

  It turns into the driveway and parks up.

  Shit.

  “Haile, we need to go. Now.”

  Chapter 7

  HAILE

  The rain lashes at us when we get outside. Cal guides me by locking my hand in his and dragging me up and down the grass banks behind Tia’s home. I clutch my spell kit closer to protect it. Huddling as near to Cal as I can.

  I’m totally soaked through and it’s only been two minutes.

  “Cal, what’s going on. Why are we going this way?”

  “I thought I saw something.”

  “Vampires?”

  When Cal doesn’t answer I try to look back, but the rain makes it difficult. It’s pelting fast now and all I can do is hurry after him and try not to slip.

  We take the long way around the lake. I’m shaking and shivering by the time we get back to the road, shoes crippling me, when Cal just turns and scoops me up in his arms. I put my head in the crook of his neck without thinking. It just fits there perfectly. I’m hyper aware of the smell of his skin, all vanilla and warm spices, and I suppress the urge to nibble him.

  It’s like I’m feral or something.

  Damn, why is this man having such an effect on me?

  We get to the car and Cal opens my side first for me to climb in. He’s in the driver’s seat and starting the car up before I can get my seatbelt plugged. Cal is acting weird, checking the rearview mirror and driving so fast my stomach flutters. Though there's a good chance my tummy flips could also be a reaction to the kiss he just gave me.

  We’re about thirty minutes into the drive back, when I recognize the roads.

  “We’re going back to yours? I thought we were heading to the hotel?”

  “Change of plans. We’re being followed. I’m going to try to lose them in the storm and then we’ll head back to mine. I need to change. You too, you’re shivering.” He reaches forward and cranks up the heating.

  Going back to Cal’s wasn’t what I was expecting, but I’m not complaining. I’m not in any rush to get the hotel. In fact, I feel much safer with the warlock around.

  Is that true? Or do you just want to spend more time with him, Haile?

  I push that thought somewhere to the back of my mind while trying to see behind us. With the rain as heavy as it is, it’s hard to see out. I glance at Cal. “Someone is following us? Who?” He doesn’t reply. Instead, he grips the steering wheel like it might fall off, staring at the roads around us as though our lives depend on it.

  I suppose it does.

  We get back to his in no time at all. I’m about to exit the car when he dashes around and throws opens my side door, sweeping me up and carrying me in as the rain showers us both. Honestly, I could have walked, but I’m not going to complain. A girl could get used to this. It’s kind of nice to be princess carried everywhere.

  He sets me down on the kitchen counter, both of us dripping water everywhere. I can’t help but laugh. He chuckles along with me, his fiery eyes roving over the lines of my body where the wet material must be clinging to my skin. I feel hot and cold at the same time.

  “We should get out of these wet clothes.” The way he says it gives me goosebumps.

  He comes closer and I lean in. Then he’s kissing me slowly. He’s toasty warm and tastes of rain and mountain air. There’s a sexy growl in his throat and I can’t help but sigh. Nothing exists but this moment.

  His hands around me gently peel off my soaking blouse and pull me closer, until I’m nestled against him, legs on either side of his hips as I sit on the counter. I melt into his embrace, moaning softly, his rock, solid erection pressing right between my legs. My fingers tug eagerly at his wet clothes.

  “Cal,” I murmur.

  He freezes. “Wait, stop. This can’t happen again.”

  “Why?”

  But he steps back taking the heat away, looking everywhere but at me.

  I frown at him as he runs his hand through his hair and curses. I wrap my arms around myself trying not tremble. Was it something I said or did? I’m so confused. He looks at me then, for a second, and then stalks off, coming back with a fluffy towel. He hands it to me looking pained and super awkward.

  “If you want to freshen up… use my bedroom with the wet room. I’ll use the other bathroom.”

  And with that, my super-hot, sexy hero disappears to shower, leaving me alone with my insides all twisted up and my heart in tatters.

  I finish showering, taking my time to get dressed into a fresh t-shirt and jeans from my bag. Thinking all the while, about what just happened. It’s weird how he's acting—Hot one minute, cold the next. Maybe he's a player?

  Despite still being a virgin, I'm not as uninitiated in the art of bedroom antics and seduction as one would think, I've met and dated my fair share of dickheads. But if he was a player, wouldn’t he want to sleep with me? Why is it me always chasing him?

  When I finally emerge, still lost in thought, I bump into Cal in the hallway who for some reason has no shirt on.

  My breath catches in my throat, and my heart reminds me it’s still beating in my chest by being extra loud and hammering fast. He’s ripped, from top to toe, from what I can see north of the blue jeans he's wearing. And as he walks over to the laundry room and comes out holding a clean shirt, I can see his beautiful obliques, sculpted lines carved right into the side of his beguiling body.

  But that’s not what has my attention next.

  “What the hell is that? That mark?”

  “Mark?” He looks my way, shrugging on his shirt. Covering it up so I can’t see. But too late, I saw. If I’m not mistaken, he has a royal shifter family mark on his right shoulder blade.

  “You have a shifter mark, on your shoulder blade.” He’s shaking his head, but I know what I saw.

  “Oh, that… It’s just a tattoo.”

  No way is that a tattoo. It’s branded right into his skin. Why did I not notice last night? Oh, because I was high on some sort of sex drug he’d fed me. I’m no longer frozen but moving, pacing over to where he is. I look him directly in the eyes. “Take your shirt off.”

  “Still wanting to get me naked, huh?” His cheeky grin
sends flutters to my stomach.

  Idiot.

  I reach out and touch him. My hand on his bare chest. “Take it off,” I say again. “Or I can make this very painful.”

  He must know what I am. What I can do with just one touch.

  His eyes meet mine as his nostrils flare. His gaze heats the space, what little space there is, between us. I swear, his eyes turn gold again.

  Ok, sexy idiot. I’ll give him that.

  He lowers his shirt off the right shoulder and gives me a full look. Sure enough, the crest of the Royal Pride is burnt right into his flesh.

  Then it dawns on me.

  “You’re him, Caleb…” I choke out. There’s not enough air in my lungs to carry on.

  I don’t know what to do or say next. It’s so obvious now he’s a shifter. Some kind of animal. A Lion. He’s a fucking Lion. Caleb Beaufort-Lowe. The royal heir. Accused of murdering at least a dozen witches. Why did I even think he was part of a coven? He’s not like any other witch I’ve ever met.

  Or warlock for that matter.

  I still have my hand on his chest.

  In a heartbeat, I could drain the life out of him. Regular magic aside, it’s what I do best. I can take energy from a living thing and channel elsewhere. Useless against vamps who have no life energy of their own.

  But lethal against shifters.

  He stiffens, pulling himself up, raising the palms of his hands slightly. “Yes, I’m Caleb. Cal for short. I didn’t lie to you.”

  “You said you were a warlock,” I croak.

  “I never said that. I’m sorry If you thought so. It was easier not to overelaborate after…”

  “After what? After I straddled you?”

  He lets out a deep breath. “I would have told you last night, but you were all—”

  “I was all what last night? Clearly, you drugged me. Which is highly illegal, you know?” Great, Haile, remind a killer he’s committed a crime against you.

  “I did not drug you. I was trying to help you heal. You were the one who couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

  “You were trying it on with me. And now I know why,” I hiss at him. Everyone knows shifters are sex-crazed lunatics.