Stone Prince: Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Royalty Romance (Warriors of Stone Book 3)

by Emma Alisyn

  Surah went completely still, eyes hard and bright as she gave her brother a long look. “I see. How do you feel, Geza?”

  He snapped his fangs at his sister. “I’m having the urge to run naked through the streets covered in pink paint.”

  “You’d suffocate.” She sighed. “Let's go to my place. We’ll all talk.” She paused. “Why did you try to kill you guard?”

  “He put his hands on her.”

  Surah’s eyes widened. “He put his . . . well . . . that's just great! He does his job and tries to contain a possible threat, and you try and kill him.”

  “No one touches her.”

  “Why, Geza?”

  His shoulders stiffened, and his voice sounded almost huffy. “It's probably obvious by now. I’m not going to discuss it here.”

  No, it wasn’t obvious to Rhina, but she knew she didn’t want to be trapped in a room with two mad Ioveanus, and where there were two, there would soon be a third.

  20

  Surah paused outside of the cafe, glancing between Geza and Rhina. “We’ll go to my place. This appears to be a family matter.”

  At Rhina’s back, Geza relaxed. His hand was on the side of her waist, not pressing, but a subtle brand, and he shadowed her movements with a protectiveness that screamed louder than anything else what was going on.

  Rhina couldn’t quite believe it, though.

  Was having trouble even as they flew through the guards surrounding the estate of Malin and Surah Ioveanu.

  “I called Bea in,” Surah said as they landed. “Geza, go talk to Malin. We females need to have some girl time.”

  He didn’t argue, just nodded and looked at Rhina for a moment as if assessing her state of mind, then left. Rhina stared after him, feeling as if the floor underneath her was an ocean waiting to rise up and buffet her to the depths at the slightest provocation.

  Drowning seemed like a good idea, right about now.

  Surah led her to a study with wide windows facing the grounds. A blue-leather sectional couch and a large flat-screen on one wall. Toys and pillows scattered around, along with a comfortable reclining chair in a corner and shelves with more toys and books. Surah walked to a far end of the room and pushed a button and a panel slid away to reveal an inset bar.

  “Drink?” she asked over her shoulder. “Don’t judge me. This was my rumpus room before it was the garling’s toy room. She took it over.”

  Surah returned to where Rhina was still standing, one hand on the back of the couch. She settled into the leather with a sigh, and it hit Rhina, the reminder that the Princess was mid-pregnancy, and likely exhausted.

  “My sister-wife is visiting her relatives or else I’d introduce you,” Surah said, setting the two drinks down on a matching ottoman. “Sit down please.”

  “Why am I here?”

  “We need to talk, demonstrably.”

  Bea entered the room. “I came as soon as Niko commed. He didn’t say what it was about.” She stopped short, looking at Rhina. “Is it our cooking night?”

  “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Surah said. “May be more conducive to girl talk.”

  Bea’s face brightened. “Girl talk? I love girl talk. I know something’s happened ‘cause Niko is all growly. Well, something more has happened.”

  Somehow, they wound up in the kitchen, a large stone and chrome designer area with all the latest gadgets and a center island with deep farmer sinks. Whatever a farmer sink was.

  The entire situation was surreal.

  They had an instruction vid on the projected screen hovering over the island, the counter covered in a slew of vegetables, proteins, knives and cutting boards. Bottles of wine and glasses at each female’s elbow.

  “If you start to feel homicidal,” Surah said without looking at Rhina, “give us a heads up, ‘kay?”

  “You aren’t really an Ioveanu,” Rhina said.

  Surah pinned her with a steely look. “I am when it counts. However, I am also cursed with perspective.” She grimaced. “I don’t see much difference between your family and mine. Most of the pure-blooded noble lines are fucked up. You have a rare opportunity.”

  “Not to kill the Prince and prove Mogrens aren’t all that bad after all?”

  Bea choked on her sip of wine. “Please don’t let Niko hear you talk like that. His growling and prowling is making my life miserable.”

  Rhina studied the human woman, who set down her wine and picked up a knife, focusing on the virtual chef’s instructions. “You don’t seem concerned.”

  Bea shrugged, slicing some kind of root vegetable. “You and Geza will work things out.”

  The faith—or delusion—in that statement flabbergasted Rhina. “You can’t just work out decades of family enmity.”

  “Centuries,” Surah muttered. “He’s mating with you, you know.”

  The words, spoken aloud, punched Rhina in the stomach. She put her wine glass down and clutched the edge of the counter. “I can't breathe.”

  “Shit, she’s having a panic attack,” Bea said. “Can assassins do that?”

  “It’s fine,” Surah said. “Get a glass of water.”

  A glass was shoved under Rhina’s nose.

  “Drink it all,” Surah said, voice a whiplash. “Focus.”

  Rhina picked up the glass with an unsteady hand, focused on drinking the liquid without choking. Her breathing steadied, vision returning to normal.

  “You have two choices here,” the Princess said. “You can take a leap of faith, and accept Geza, and know you’ll probably spend the next several years working out all of your issues. Or, I can help you disappear.”

  Rhina looked up, met Surah’s dark eyes. “You’re trusting that I’m not loyal to my family anymore.”

  Surah smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant. “Not really. If you choose to disappear, there are certain medical measures I’ll put in place to ensure you are not a threat. I’ll be the only one with access, however, so you’ll have to trust me, one half-blood to another, that I mean you no harm.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “Mean you any harm?” The Princess shrugged. “I could have been you. You could have been me. Not that you aren’t responsible for whatever you’ve done. But at the root of it, you weren’t given a choice.”

  “There is always a choice.”

  “That’s what philosophers tell us. In reality, the ultimate imperative is to survive and all but one-half percent of people will do whatever it takes, to survive.”

  “You made that number up,” Bea said.

  “I’ve never killed a child,” Rhina said. “I’ve never killed a mother or someone who was innocent.”

  Surah looked unimpressed. “That you know of.”

  Rhina’s eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know if I can deal with this. I haven’t felt in years. It was the only way. If I start to feel—”

  “Then you’ll be like the rest of us. Having to deal with your issues. I don’t recommend alcohol. Try sex, but in a monogamous relationship. Luckily, the highest ranked male in the region has offered for you.”

  “He hasn’t really said—”

  “Moghrenna.”

  Rhina’s head snapped up.

  “Don’t bullshit me, and I won’t bullshit you. What are you going to choose?”

  “I need to talk to Geza.”

  “Can we finish dinner first?” Bea asked.

  Rhina took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s finish dinner. I think, Princess, there is another issue I could use your support on.”

  Surah smiled, eyes glinting. “Really? You’ll owe me a favor.”

  Ioveanus.

  Surah led her to where Geza and Malin were talking; Malin’s personal study presumably. It lacked the formal feel of a public chamber, with a lived-in, cluttered quality that reminded her of Geza’s tower suite.

  She’d talked to Surah about Tyra, being vague about her cousin’s location, but wanting support in broaching the matter of Tyra’s innocence and expedited par
don. Surah had promised to put in a good word when it was time, as a wedding present.

  Rhina stopped inside the threshold, though Surah continued towards her husband, a light waddle in her step. The males turned, each glancing at Rhina, expressions hard and smooth.

  Geza rose from his seat on the couch and approached Rhina after a glance at his half-sister. “Surah said you females were in the kitchen cooking.” He smirked.

  “Don’t even,” Surah said.

  “I always knew you’d make a proper wife and mother,” Geza replied, the smirk morphing into a taunting grin. “Malin tamed you. The power of Ioveanu c—”

  “Please,” Malin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have the energy tonight to listen to you two bickering.”

  Geza grabbed Rhina’s hand and drew her into the hallway, then along the corridor. “There’s a room this way where we can speak in private.”

  “There are probably dozens of rooms in this place. It’s huge.”

  “Dear brother was compensating for the loss of his rule.” The words didn’t sound malicious, merely amused.

  He led her into another small, nondescript room with a seating area and windows leading to a balcony outside.

  She prowled the perimeter for a moment, the turned to him. He stood in the center, arms crossed, watching her.

  “I want to know what’s going on,” Rhina said. “I want to be certain. I can’t really trust my impressions.”

  “No, you just don’t believe in yourself.” His head tilted. “You want clear words. Can you handle it?”

  She growled at him. “Don’t play games with me, Geza.”

  “Fine.” He walked towards her, crossing the space between them in slow steps. “For reasons, it appears I’m mating with you.”

  Rhina held up a hand to halt him. “A mate bond? A genuine mate bond?”

  “You don’t feel it?”

  “. . . no.” Her expression set in mulish lines.

  “Hmm. We’ll save that issue for another time. But yes, a genuine mate bond.”

  “You don’t have to go through with it. If you put time and distance between us—”

  “I know. I’ve chosen to let it be.” He stared down at her, grasping the hand that tried to keep them separate, and using it as a reel to pull her into the circle of his arms.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “This isn’t something you just shrug your shoulders and decide to let happen.”

  “I made you an offer years ago, and I never rescinded it. Maybe it began then. Maybe on some level I already felt.”

  “I’m ruined, Geza. I don’t even know if I can love you.”

  “Do you want to?”

  Her hands rose, fingers digging reflexively into his shoulders. “Perhaps.”

  “Then that’s half the battle.” He smiled. “I do love a challenge.”

  “It might take years.”

  He sniffed. “I doubt it. Once you have a taste of me, mere hours.” He sobered. “Are your questions about Alexa resolved?”

  She stilled. “I need to think some more. Accepting that the truth you’ve lived with for years—”

  “I understand.” He brushed her cheek with a thumb. “I know it’s going to take us time to come to terms with each other. I think you’re perfect, though.”

  “What?”

  “Even though you tried to sic my sister on me. Really, Moghrenna? I’m not mad. At least, no madder than Malin or Nikolau.” He scowled.

  “I just think—”

  “Don’t think. It’s not good for you.” His head lowered, and he nuzzled the side of her neck. “You’re intelligent, dangerous and aware of court intrigue. Reasonably pretty—”

  She gasped. Not that she was vain, but the sheer gall of Geza Ioveanu criticizing her looks . . . .

  He laughed. “I’m kidding. Don’t murder me. If you would drop the glamour—”

  “Oh.” Almost embarrassed, she felt it fall. She must have instinctively put it in place when they’d flown to the estate, and she hadn’t even noticed.

  Geza studied her, picking up a long lock of her fair silvery hair and running it through his fingers. “So odd-looking,” he said. “But stunning. We’re going to make a very striking couple in the photoshoots.” His expression turned beatific.

  Rhina took a deep breath and dipped her toe in the water. “Kiss me again. I want to see how it feels this time.”

  He didn’t move for a long moment, then his arms tightened around her, and his head lowered obediently.

  Rhina slid her arms around his neck, deliberately pressing her body against his as the heat of his kiss flared, and she sensed an unleashing of aggressive desire. The first kiss had been gentle. This one . . . a hand rose and tangled in her hair, the steel of his erection pressing against her. Deep in her abdomen, desire unfurled, and she allowed it; let her body lead where her mind and heart were struggling to go. Maybe her body knew best. It had never wanted anyone before.

  A knock on the door sounded. Geza snarled. “What?”

  Surah poked her head in. “We have a problem. Someone tattled to the Council. Fuckers.”

  21

  The Council was furious.

  She recognized the gargoyle elders hovering via a projection screen in Prince Malin’s formal study. The holograms were lifelike, solid, attesting to the quality of his technology.

  “It’s true!” Councilor Esteven exclaimed.

  Rhina hadn’t bothered with her glamour because Geza hadn’t asked her to, and that wasn’t the kind of detail that would have slipped his mind. Well, if he wanted her, they were about to see how badly.

  If he was willing to fight for her.

  “What’s true?” Geza asked, sounding amused. His hand on her waist was strong, and for a moment, the fingers pressed. Next to her, his body was hot with tension.

  “The missing Mogren assassin,” the Councilor snapped. “You’ve had her in your possession all along.” Eyes took in Geza’s hands on Rhina’s wrist. “And that is true as well.”

  “That she’s mine?” The Prince walked them both deeper into the room. “Yes. It’s not your concern, either.”

  “The Council must approve—”

  “The Council must approve nothing. It’s a tradition that the Council finds the Prince his bride. It is not a law. If it were a law, we would now be at war.”

  The second Councilor, a female, spoke. “Is this a mate bond, Prince?”

  Geza said nothing, measuring her.

  “The Mogren female is half Fae. It’s possible she’s cast some kind of enchantment to further the aims of her family.”

  “Which brings us to the next point,” Esteven said. “Why isn’t she on trial with the rest?”

  “She was not present on the compound when we raided it,” Malin said. “She was unaware of the proceedings, being out of the country. As soon as she heard, she turned herself in.”

  Malin glanced at Rhina, and she knew what story they wanted her to go along with. Which was a risk . . . who said they didn’t know the full truth, that she’d been disguised as a human all along? Her mouth tightened, but it wasn’t as if she was above lying, and she had no particular love or loyalty to the Councilors.

  “She needs to be taken into official custody,” Esteven said, glaring, “and arraigned.”

  “No,” Geza said. “This is a private matter. My family and I will handle it.” He glanced at Malin, who cut the transmission.

  “You know—” Rhina murmured.

  “Shut up,” Geza said.

  She ignored him. “Technically, I’m not only guilty of the crimes they know about, but several they do not.”

  There was silence in the room, and then Surah spoke, voice gentle. “We know that, Rhina.”

  Rhina measured each of their faces. “Please explain.”

  “Geza has chosen you,” Malin said, expression stony. “Whether we like it or not. You will, at your pleasure, one day be an Ioveanu. We do not allow the
Council to try or judge or mete punishment on our own. We will do so at our discretion.”

  The old Ioveanu high-handed arrogance.

  “You know that’s why so many of the high-blood families hate you?”

  Malin smiled, and it was cold. “Let them hate, as long as they keep our laws within our territory.”

  “We’ve had an uneasy peace for over two hundred years of our rule,” Geza said. “That’s worth a little hatred.”

  Rhina focused her eyes on a far wall, choosing her next words carefully. “You’re operating on a presumption. Neither Geza, nor I, have come to any understanding of the nature of our association. Your protection may be wasted.”

  “You haven’t come to an understanding,” her suitor said. “It’s okay. I enjoy the chase.”

  “Besides, you have a skill set which will be very useful to us,” Surah said. “If I think of it objectively, you’ll make Geza the perfect consort. At least we’ll be able to have a serious discussion with you, and I assume you’ll be sober most of the time. It's difficult trying to make him rule when he won’t even stop drinking.”

  Geza sniffed. “We should return to the tower. I'm sure the Council has a warm reception for us.”

  Malin nodded. “I'll send my private guard to reinforce Niko. You’ll need soldiers not loyal to the Council. Surah—”

  “Not staying here.”

  “Surah . . . .”

  The Princess turned her back on her mate.

  Rhina blocked out their arguing and shuffled through what she knew of the Council, its powers and history. What would they do if they believed Rhina was a threat? The last time a Council of any gargoyle clan took over the seat of a ruling Prince . . . two hundred years ago? There was no law that allowed them to overthrow Geza . . . only another Ioveanu could do that, stage a legal coup. But . . .

  “The Council isn’t entirely powerless,” Rhina said, thinking aloud. “You should consider whether this is a fight that will benefit you.”

  Geza’s eyes narrowed. “My father worked very hard to ensure their only power was political in nature. The net worth of our family is greater than the combined wealth of the entire Council body. They can contest, they can even attempt military action and take you into custody using the rights invested in them from the judiciary. They know they would be starting a war.”