Princess of the Pack (Shifting the Tale Book 1)

by Haven Handel

  Holding in a chuckle, I rebuked, “That’s naughty, rolling your eyes.”

  “I didn’t roll my eyes,” she protested.

  “And lying. Tsk, tsk.” I clucked my tongue. “I think someone is getting a little big for her britches.”

  Reading the expression on my face, Cassandra decided to try another tactic to get herself out of trouble. My little girl knew she was going over my knee, like it or not.

  Stretching, Cassandra gave a big yawn. “I’m so tired, Deo. I really think it’s time I went to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  I could no longer suppress my chuckle. “Is that so?”

  She nodded, a sigh escaping her pink lips.

  “Then we had best get started,” I said, quickly flipping her over my lap.

  “Ooomph!” she cried in surprise, her legs flailing as I positioned her perfectly over my knee. Trying to protect her bottom by reaching her hand behind her, she whispered harshly, “Please don’t, Deo, my friends will hear.”

  “I am sure they are sound asleep in their beds, as you should have been, my angel,” I said, pinning her hand on her lower back with one hand, and bringing her nightgown up, exposing her bare bottom with the other. “No kicking, young lady, or I will take my belt to this fair behind.” Her legs instantly stilled.

  I brought my hand up, then down, slapping her bottom as you would a naughty little girl. The swats were barely putting a sting on my hand, but they served their purpose. I scolded as I spanked.

  “Naughty princesses who don’t do as they’re told go over the king’s knee, don’t they, young lady?”

  “Yes,” Cassandra moaned, mortified.

  Smack, smack, smack. The little slaps landed on her bottom in succession, keeping a steady rhythm as I chided. “And what do I do when my girl goes over my lap?”

  “You spank me.”

  “Where?”

  “On the bottom.”

  “Bare bottom?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “You know better than to wander around the castle, and in bare feet, no less. I should take you down to the library and let Artem turn you over his knee for a good, sound spanking, as well,” I said, teasingly. I had no doubt in the beginning of the trouble Cassandra had caused, it had crossed Artem’s mind many times. “Though he might spank your bottom a little harder than I am now,” I said, keeping up the little slaps on her pinkened skin.

  “Oh, no, Deo, please, not that!” Cassandra cried, peering over her shoulder to gauge my authenticity.

  “Quiet, princess, your friends will hear you. I don’t want Andrew”—she gave a little cry when I placed a hard slap on the center of her bottom as I said his name—“to try and come rescue you,” I said.

  Groaning with pure embarrassment, Cassandra hung her head down in shame.

  Looking over my work, I admired the rosy glow that covered her usually creamy skin. Finished spanking her pert little bottom, I said, ‘Up you go, baby,” helping her to stand. She tried sitting in my lap, her flushed face covered with disappointment when I steered her to the bed, instead.

  “I think it’s time you went to bed. We have a big day tomorrow,” I said, repeating her own words to her. Tucking her in again, I gave her sweet, lingering kisses. I had to pull myself away. I could feel the time had come for Artem and I to plan.

  Giving me a pitiful little look, her bottom lip pouting, Cassandra said, “Stay.”

  Unable to pull myself from her magnetic energy, I acquiesced, sighing, “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, dear one.”

  The satisfied, spoiled smile that crossed Cassandra’s face melted my heart, and my resolve to get back to work.

  Chapter Seven

  The new day brought a fiery orange sun with it. The sunrise was burning red, but the air remained frigid. Snow had fallen through the night, clinging to the ground, covering the sparse grass.

  Cassandra had gone over my knee again, just this morning, before the sun had made its glorious appearance. Stubborn as always, she had ignored my commands to wear a hat and coat over her black training gear. Ever present, Draco had informed me of my bride’s defiance. His face unyielding, Draco looked as if he was not far from taking my Cassandra in hand, himself.

  Finding her in the dim courtyard, chilled to the bone as she kicked at her target tree, I excused us from the basilica. My fingers locked around my wife’s toned upper arm, my grip tight. Whispering in her ear as I guided us through the walls of the courtyard, I said, “Did I not tell you to put on a coat and a hat, Cassandra?”

  Shooting an embarrassed look over her shoulder, Cassandra replied, hotly, “Andrew and Cynthia are watching.”

  “Do I care?” I asked. Tugging Cassandra’s arm, I led her up the curving stairs that led to an unused tower. I preferred privacy in disciplining my wife.

  Shutting and locking the tower room door, I turned to my wife. She stood, arms crossed over her body in the center of the room, trying to hide the fact that she was freezing.

  After wrapping my coat around her, I bent her over at the waist, supporting her upper body with one arm. I then proceeded to spank her spandex covered bottom, hard. The open slaps of my palm hitting her rear echoed in the dark room. I continued to spank her until my good girl was promising, through tears, she would immediately go and fetch her wine-colored coat and hat from her bedroom.

  Naughty girl.

  Returning my now, bundled wife, to her trainer and friends, I received a curious look from Cynthia and a fierce gaze from Andrew. But my kept wife was all smiles under her red rimmed eyes. Judge they may, but no one knew my girl’s needs as I did.

  Draco jogged over to me, stopping me as I was departing.

  “I insisted that she put on something warmer, Deo. I apologize that I had to interrupt you, but I could not watch her in this cold another minute.”

  “And she defied you.”

  “In her way—by saying, ‘just a minute’.”

  “You are too soft with her.”

  “And perhaps you are too hard,” he murmured quietly.

  “No such thing in life and death. The next time she defies you, come straight to me as you did today. Understood?”

  Giving a nod, Draco’s eyes watched Cassandra with a look of utter adoration.

  Watching his gaze, I asked, curiously, “Unless you would like to punish my wife, yourself?”

  Draco’s face went smooth. He ran a hand through a thick wave of his hair.

  “Won’t you get a little satisfaction in punishing my wife?” I goaded. Though Draco’s face remained expressionless, I caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  He answered, “I will be there for you, Deo. I will guard Cassandra as long as she lives, you have my word.”

  “Your loss,” I mused, acting as if I was revoking an offer.

  “As her guardian, I will not overstep the bounds.” Draco’s eyes hardened, tired of my games. “I would never lay a hand on your wife.”

  I mused, a smile almost appearing on my face. Perhaps I could trust Draco as I did Baal. “Let me ask you, Draco. Do you believe my pride has interceded in you and I becoming—close?”

  Draco’s eyes turned to me. There was an understanding there that hadn’t been there before. He spoke, “Should a husband not be protective? Desiring his wife to be fully his? I think not. But I would appreciate your trust on this issue. And it is not your wife I am after.”

  “My brother?” I asked, casually.

  “I will not say. Not until what is important is behind us. I will not allow myself to be distracted by emotion.”

  “Good man.” Taking a few steps toward the portico, I stopped, turning back to Draco. “And Draco?” I asked lightly, as if an afterthought.

  “Yes?” he replied, looking tired of me.

  “Just so you and I are clear”—a tremble shook my voice—“if anyone ever touched my wife, I would kill them and stand over them to watch them die.”

  After a tense moment of silence, Draco�
�s warm eyes turned to me. His voice unwavering, he replied stoically, “Yes, sir. As would I.”

  Our gazes locked, a palpable tension between husband and guardian.

  Then, a rare smile crossed Draco’s face, illuminating his features and transforming him into someone I did not yet know—a comrade. As the handle did when the blade hit the tree, the tension instantly dissipated. A chuckle emerged from deep within his chiseled, stone chest. He was laughing at me.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco said, “Deo, are you threatening me? The one sent to protect your wife? Your jealousy is far misplaced, my friend.”

  I could not help but to laugh at myself. It was irrational of me to tempt Draco into admitting he would like to punish my wife. With her tenacious spirit and ability to find trouble, who wouldn’t? But I had known deep down that Draco would never lay a finger on her. And, loyal himself, he respected the sacred bond between man and wife.

  “Glad to see we are on the same page,” I murmured. Walking to where Draco stood, I placed my hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  Draco’s eyes met mine. Though I had tried to build a wall between us, we were like brothers. Both willing to give our lives for Cassandra and the pack.

  “We have always been on the same page, Deo. You just weren’t reading the book,” Draco jibed, the smile still on his face.

  “So, we are.” Giving Draco a slap on the back, I walked away.

  Musing over my budding friendship with the man I had thought to be my rival, I made my way to the castle, shaking my head at my own stupidity.

  Once in the castle, I quickened my stride. There was much to accomplish this morning. Taking a steaming clay mug of coffee from a grumpy Margaret, I made my way to my office. The coffee, though delicious, had come with a long string of curses. No doubt she had counted her cigars this morning. I laughed as I took another sip of the dark brew. Margaret could curse me all she wanted. What good would it do when I was already living amongst the cursed?

  I sat down at the small desk in the corner of the room. From my seat, I could gaze out of the window, at the courtyard below. Cassandra was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Alekos. The low ponytail I had tied her hair up into that morning was swinging underneath her hat as she moved towards him. Alekos’ arm quickly blocked each of her anticipated moves. Cassandra’s face was pinched in frustration, the tip of her tongue protruding from the corner of her mouth. Adorable. And soon, she would be deadly.

  Pulling the plans from the desk drawer, I smoothed the large, white paper over the desk. Artem and I had painstakingly drawn them up, finishing just in time for me to go upstairs and rouse my sleeping beauty.

  My eyes roved over the black markings we had made over the castle layout. The plan was delicate, precise, and… hopeless. I sighed, pushing the papers away. If only spirits could be bought as men. Money solved problems, and the Ambrosias had piles of that. But curses could not be paid off.

  If it were just the pack and I, here, there may be a chance of victory. With the ‘mankind’ we had added to our ensemble, there was no way of predicating an outcome. We had done our best to prepare. What more could we do?

  Alekos was teaching the physical act of defeating the spirits. Andrew’s taekwondo skills were proving helpful. To Draco’s chagrin, Cassandra was hopeless. Though her coordination was excellent when dealing with blades, facing an opponent made her flustered. Cynthia, on the other hand was doing well.

  Baal had the undertaking of teaching the supernatural elements that we had in our arsenal. Blades were deadly, a direct hit bringing the spirit down instantly, to disappear with the handle. Then there were the crystals; the ones Cynthia had found so intriguing. You had to come close and be quick to use them. Cynthia had proved herself to be lightning fast, almost outrunning Baal in his human form. She had laughed when I had congratulated her, telling us she had been the track and field star of her Ivy League college.

  Artem and Dolly had mostly kept to themselves during training, as they had no need for it. Florida was not the whimsical place people made it out to be. The sunshine state ranked amongst the highest for murder, assault, and car crashes per capital. The unique pair could fight demons with their eyes shut, one hand tied behind their backs.

  I was anxious for Xander’s return. The longer he was gone, the less I knew and more vulnerable the castle and its inhabitants. Of all of us, Xander was the most comfortable in his wolf form, preferring it even to his human. He was the protector, Protector of the Pack.

  Xander was tirelessly scouting circles around the castle, each day widening his radius as he completed a round, seeking, sensing if they were nearing, gauging when the first of the battles would commence. I would find the job trying, but Xander became restless if in one place, or as a human, for too long. I trusted his instincts completely, he was the best man for the job.

  Emptying the last sip of coffee from my cup, I allowed myself a deep sigh. I knew the time had come for me to also take my wolf form, however briefly, and flex my animal muscles. I stood from my desk, gazing out the window, over the courtyard. It was empty, the group having moved into the dining room for breakfast.

  I peered around the doorframe of the dining room. The family was seated around the table. Margaret shuffling, Alekos behind her, serving the tea and orange juice. Ah, how she had pained me having that ship filled, calling me every hour on the hour to add to her list.

  Sensing my presence, Draco looked up and our eyes met. Taking his napkin from his lap, he placed it onto the table, standing and excusing himself from breakfast. He leaned down and whispered into Cassandra’s ear, to which she looked up to him, curiously. I turned and went to the door of the castle to wait for him.

  After a moment, he approached. “Is it time?” he asked, a tight, knowing smile crossing his chiseled face.

  “As good a time as any, I suppose.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the dining room. “Will she be safe?”

  “Cassandra knows she must eat. And as she picks like a bird, I assume we are safe for a quarter of an hour.”

  “I told her to stay put, but that one rarely does as she’s told.” Though reluctant to abandon his post, the guardian was eager to return to the forest. Draco opened the great oak door, gesturing for me to step outside.

  A wintry gust caressed my face. I inhaled deeply, allowing the brisk air to fill my lungs. Though the sun had risen, the sky was dull and gray. The magnificent evergreens stood tall over the stone castle walls, snow powdered over their tips. It was a good day to be a wolf.

  Making our way across the drive, we passed under the arch. Once we were outside the castle walls, Draco gave an unsettled look over his shoulder. This was the first he had been out of earshot of his charge.

  “We must let her grow up, sometime,” I chided. “Surely our girl can make it through breakfast without getting herself into trouble.”

  A chuckle rose from Draco’s chest. “Sometimes, I think not. That one seeks out trouble.”

  The look of adoration in his eyes warmed my heart. I had allowed pride to become my jealousy. It was trivial of me and, now, my eyes opened to my mistake, I apologized.

  “Draco. Cassandra is my life. You give your life to protect her. You are loyal and trustworthy. I owe you my most sincere apologies. I feel nothing but gratitude towards you, brother.”

  “I understand. Should I have a life partner one day, I doubt I would feel differently if placed in the same situation. Know Cassandra’s well-being, as well as your own, is my only motive. In the brief time I have known her, I have grown to love her as I imagine I would had I a younger sister.”

  “A mischievous little sister?” I asked.

  Another chuckle. It was good to finally be relaxed in one each other’s presence. “A minx,” he said, a grin spreading wide on his face.

  Taking a deep breath of the wintery air, I placed my hand on my hips, staring into the thick forest. “Shall we?” I asked.

  “Time is running
out.” Draco crossed his arms, standing by my side. A break in the clouds exposed a dim ray of sun, glinting off the metal in my hand as we began to unlatch the buckles of our belts.

  ***

  The tops of the eastern white pine trees swayed in the gray sky as the biting wind swirled around Draco and I. “Andrew told you this?” I asked, trying to mask the surprise in my voice as I conferred with Draco.

  Draco was tired, dark circles under his eyes. He ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair. Leaning against the stone wall, Draco looked… defeated.

  “I can’t believe I wasn’t there.” Now Draco’s head was in his hands.

  “If anyone is to blame, it is I. You were unsure of leaving her.” I paced the floor, cooling my anger. “She must be punished—again. Unbelievable,” I muttered. “You must chastise her, as well.”

  “I came to you—”

  “She needs to know that your authority is the same as mine, or Artem’s for that matter. Cassandra must obey. Besides, I won’t always be there, and when, if, we go home…” My voice trailed off, unable to think of the future, or the possibility we may not make it home. Never one to dwell on the possibility of defeat, I ended my statement. “Meet me in the library,” I said brusquely. “I will retrieve my wife.”

  Exiting the castle, I quickly found my wife. Interrupting her hand-to-hand combat practice in the upper courtyard, I pulled her into the privacy of the shadows of the wall.

  Cassandra stood, pressed against the wall, recognition in her eyes. She knew why I had come.

  I tempered my anger, controlling my trembling voice. “You dare to defy not only me, but your guardian as well?”

  She looked at the ground.

  “Did Draco tell you, ‘stay put’, young lady?”

  “Yes,” Cassandra whispered.

  “Then you shall be admonished, first, by Draco, then by your husband.”

  “Deo”—her beautiful face crumpled in mortification—“I couldn’t help it.”

  “We will go to Draco. I will see to it that he makes clear the risks you took. You will offer your sincere apology for defying the command of the man risking his life to protect you. And then I will punish you.”