“Well, have a good day, sir,” she said, drawing a shield of cool politeness around herself the way her mother had taught her, to deflect unwanted conversation.
He held up a hand, a brief, imperious gesture. “You’re awaiting the bus? Allow me to call you a cab in apology.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Hannah said. “My fault for not watching. Good day.”
And she stepped around him, wide enough that if he tried to block her he would go beyond churlish and straight into threatening.
As she walked briskly away, she thought she heard, “Good day, Princess.”
Hannah thought about the man’s words while on the bus, troubled. She could dismiss it as her imagination. Try to convince herself her observations were mere fantasy… but she wasn’t given to daydreaming. Well, the only thing she could do was wait for Andrei to come home, and discuss it with him.
Discuss why a strange white male who dressed and moved and talked like him had intercepted her, and called her Princess.
CHAPTER NINE
He returned home later than usual. Hannah knew something was wrong, alerted by the stern expression on his face, the careful way he watched her.
“What is it?” she asked, taking his hand to lead him to the couch. “You're hiding from me.”
She was human, but she was a bonded mate. And she was learning to use the bond as if she were a woman of his people. Or so she surmised. When they made love, his feelings flooded her until she was close to mindless with pleasure, basking in their mutual glow. And when they were just talking, spending time together, his thoughts and emotions were a gentle hum in the background. But now she picked up nothing. She hadn’t known he could do that- just cut off their connection. It chilled her, and for the first time she felt real anger towards him.
“Whatever the problem is, we won’t solve it by you brutalizing our bond.”
He turned on her, eyes flashing. Hannah's knees locked. He didn’t frighten her. But if he raised his voice, or a hand, he'd learn the hard way that as much as she loved him, her mother had taught how to handle a disrespectful, bullying husband.
With a cast iron skillet.
Not that her Daddy had ever done anything to deserve that. Usually a look was enough for him to take a discussion to the bedroom, or take a long walk.
Andrei inhaled. Closed his eyes. “I'm sorry. I’m not angry at you. There are complications I’m dealing with that I wish would just go away.” He sighed. “But I’m no longer a child and wishing a problem gone is fruitless.”
Her mate wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her to his chest. She leaned her head against his heart, enjoying the steady beat and the way his tones deepened against her ear when he spoke.
“Would you like to move to a house, sweet? I've loved our time here, but I thought you might enjoy a place with a studio where you can train. And a bigger kitchen so I can feed you properly.”
Hannah lifted her head, stared. “If you haven’t been feeding me properly, then your idea of proper will get me fat in no time.”
He pinched her thigh. “I need meat on my female's bones. I'm a big man, sweet. Don’t ever worry about your appetite with me.”
She smiled into his chest. It was sweet for him to say it, but she would always watch her diet, being a carb sensitive curvy girl and a dancer. But it was nice to know she would never have to be self-conscious from enjoying a good, well deserved meal after a long day in class.
But the mention of a house, even though exciting, bothered her. “So you do live in America?”
He hesitated. “... No. Only a few months out of the year. I'm... overseas much of my time.”
Hannah wasn't certain how to navigate this conversation. He'd said he wanted marriage.
“Are mates- is it permanent?”
Her fingers brushed the small scar nestled in the curve of her neck.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been avoiding this discussion,” he said. “It's not because of you- I’ve loved our time here together. And I know it can’t go on forever. Hannah, I need to tell you-”
“Just tell me I can trust you,” she said, interrupting him. The pulse in her neck fluttered. She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. Foolish, she knew. But she didn’t want their life to change. Didn’t want reality to intrude.
A strong finger lifted her chin. His gaze was steady, and firm. “We can’t avoid this any longer, sweet. You can trust me- and mates are more permanent than human marriage. The bond can only be broken by death. In fact, the longer we're together, the strong the bond. To the point where someday it would physically sicken us to be apart.”
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “But not now?”
“Not quite yet.”
Lips brushed hers, offering comfort, hand stroking through her tangled curls. She hadn’t done much with her hair today, just brushed it flat against her scalp into a tail with a bit of gel, and let the tail itself spill free. Wild and messy. She never would have dreamed of appearing before him without having conditioned, combed and dressed her curls a few weeks ago.
“Hannah, I have to go back home for a few days and prepare the way for us. There are some political complications I need to see to, and then I’ll come back for you.”
“Political complications?” What did politics have to do with them? “Are human shifter pairings illegal?”
“No, of course not. But because of my position in my government, there are other considerations.”
“Andrei... what do you do?”
He shifted, lowering her onto the couch. “I’ll tell you soon.” A wicked grin flashed. “I’ve only gotten away with it this long because you don’t watch television. I’m sure my picture has been shown a dozen times already.”
Oh... shoot. That didn’t sound good. If he was important enough to make the news... she wasn’t stupid. There were only a few reasons why a man like him would be on television. Either he was a celebrity of some sort, a high ranking politician - she was pretty sure he wasn’t a criminal- or some type of nobleman. It would explain the clothes, the money, the accent. His old fashioned manners.
Hannah strained to remember her geography lessons. Her mother hadn't wanted her to learn too much about the European and Asian shifter countries during school, uncertain whether those people were demons or just another kind of human. But she knew enough to know there were a handful of monarchies, and even a few democracies with shifter governments left in the world. In America there were small communities scattered around and allowed the same autonomy as Native Americans nations.
“Don’t think so hard,” Andrei said, mouth on her neck. “I’ll get you settled in the house tomorrow- and if you don’t like it we can look for something to your taste later- and then I have to leave. But it will only be a few days. I promise.”
***
The house. She’d seen the like in magazines. He'd taken her up north to the Skokie area, driving to a neighborhood a few steps from the beach. The large yard was cordoned off with a stone gate, privacy provided by soaring trees. Wide arched windows greeted her awed expression as they pulled through the red gravel driveway. She could see inside the home- vaulted ceilings and pale walls. When they exited the car, he led her through a double door made of heavy wood latched in black iron.
The house had only been the first stop, though. Her car was delivered after they arrived, and then Andrei hustled her away again to go shopping. For clothes. All kinds of clothes. And shoes. And makeup- though he preferred she keep it to a minimum. Since that was also what she preferred, she was happy to oblige. He didn’t give much opinion on her clothing choices other than to approve her choices. She wasn’t a woman who wanted to dress sexy- modesty was far too ingrained. So keeping mental eye towards a classic Princess Kate look, she chose pieces that were both bold and demure at the same time. She enjoyed colors, tailored fits and detailed finishes.
And found she had absolutely no qualms spending his money. They were mar
ried in the ways of his people. And it was a husband's job to provide. Her daddy had always provided for the family, though Mother often sold her arts and crafts and preserves for extra money to help with little luxuries. Hannah looked forward to getting to know her new mate better, so she could learn the little things she could do for him in return for his generosity. She could never compete materially- but material things didn’t really matter.
“You’ll be comfortable here,” he said, pressing a kiss on her forehead.
They stood outside, Andrei’s car awaiting him. Hannah’s heart twisted at the thought of their separation- but it would only be for a few days.
“Don’t do the staff’s job, okay? You’ll hurt their feelings.”
Hannah grimaced. He’d brought in a bodyguard/driver and a housekeeper. Hannah struggled the first day with allowing the woman to do the tidying. Andrei mostly cooked still, though Oana obviously knew him and bullied him into taking a seat once most of the work was done. A family servant then, which told Hannah that whatever he was, it wasn’t Nouveau riche. It had become a kind of silent game between them. Unspoken was that Hannah wouldn’t cheat by simply turning on television- she ignored the shiny black set in his study- or browsing the papers at checkout. Curiosity nearly killed her- but also pride. She didn't want him to think that his status in life was more important to her than him as a man.
“I still don’t think someone else should be making my coffee,” Hannah said. “But I guess I can put the toilet brush down.”
Andrei grinned. “Progress. Remember, you're a-” he stopped. Paused. “A dancer, so you shouldn't be doing such menial tasks.”
Her eyes narrowed. He'd been about to say something else, but caught himself in time. And besides, she'd noticed him taking great pleasure in those so called menial tasks.
Hannah folded her arms. “Slumming is over, huh?”
He arched a brow. “I wouldn’t call it slumming. More like a vacation. And now, sweet, I must go. I'll call you.”
“Okay.”
***
“My son returns.”
Andrei bowed, holding the obeisance until she shifted, indicating he might rise. Queen Izobelle sat behind her desk, fingers steepled as she contemplated him with the unblinking intensity of a praying mantis.
The flight had been long and every minute that passed away from Hannah he felt the strain of their bond. Too far away, too long away. But he hadn't dared bring her into the country without preparing his mother first.
The Queen tended to shift and rampage first, ask questions later.
“It irked me to return home without my son at my side,” she continued, contralto tones pleasant. Friendly, even. Andrei tensed, knowing that his mate wouldn't understand his wariness of his own mother, a female. Not many societies left appreciated the true ferocity of the female. And female Bears were truly frightening when riled.
In a way, once Hannah matured into her role as Princess, she would hold as much authority among the people of Casakraine as he. He was his mother’s Heir because she believed the throne should go to the firstborn, regardless of gender. Otherwise his younger sister would have been Queen after Izobelle. Miahela was more suited to rule. But if Izobelle refused to acknowledge the mating... Andrei refused to consider the possibility. His mother would acknowledge Hannah. Izobelle had no other choice.
The Queen rose, walking around her desk, gaze trained on him. “There is something in your eyes, Andrei,” she said, voice soft. “What have you been up to? Where is your mate?”
“I wanted to speak to you in person first. Offer you a choice.”
Her sleek blue black brow rose. “A choice? You offer me a choice?” She laughed. “Please, enlighten me.”
His expression hardened. “My mate is human, Mother.”
Izobelle stilled, emotion bleeding from her face. “So. Every Casakraine Heir exerts their independence from their Sovereign by making an ass of themselves. It is family tradition. I didn’t imagine you would rise up to the expectations of our lineage so spectacularly, son.”
He wanted to strangle her. He loved her, and respected her. But he wanted to strangle her. “It wasn’t on purpose, Izobelle.”
Her eyes narrowed. She hated when he called her by her name. “I thought your little vacation was going to be the worst of it, but I suppose even I can be wrong.”
“I left her in the States,” Andrei said. “But I need her by my side. Are you going to allow her into the country or not?”
She bared her teeth in a... smile. “Now, why do you imagine I wouldn't?”
***
But she had her revenge for his little surprise. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll bring your mate safely to Casakraine,” she told him as he stood in the tower suite. A dozen guards, both in human and Bear form, ranged throughout the room. His jailers. “With all pomp and ceremony. And when she is here, we will discuss this mating of yours, hmm?”
A growl rumbled in his chest. He watched her males without appearing to watch them, calculating the odds of escape. Concluded patience to be the wisest course, though Bear raged at him to kill them all and go to his mate.
“Are you sure you want to do this, You Majesty?” he asked. “Release me. If you don't...”
“What will you do, my son?” She strolled forward, cupped his cheek with her smooth hand. He was taller than her, had been for many years now. But she didn't care. He would never lay a finger on her and knew it. “Hmm? Enjoy your quiet time. Reflect. Await your mate. We'll finish our talk when I return with the human.”
CHAPTER TEN
Because she had to find a new normal, Hannah threw herself into her rehearsals. The summer showcase was days away, and she felt physically prepared for it. But the discomfort of Andrei’s departure weighed on her subconscious.
He hadn’t called her in four days.
She wanted to write her mother, but knew it would be better to wait until she and Andrei had wed. Her parents wouldn’t understand or recognize a matebond as being lawful in the eyes of God. If she wasn’t experiencing the powerful effects herself, she might not have recognized it either. Hannah realized she could only escape so far from her upbringing- and further realized there was only so far she wanted to escape.
Her appetite was gone- well, she’d noticed the decrease over a week ago, and chalked it up to positive stress. Andrei’s meals were so delicious and filling- and healthy- that she didn’t want to eat anything else, even Oana’s hearty offerings. Her palate had improved, to the point where she could no longer stomach most packaged foods, especially processed deserts. She’d begun baking again, and spent a pleasant evening sharing apple pie and cupcake recipes with the housekeeper.
Hannah focused in class, pushing aside her growing agitation with Andrei. Her worry over what might be detaining him. And the temptation to just ask one of the staff who Andrei was. But she’d promised to wait until he told her. She’d promised- and she wouldn’t be caught breaking her promise by one of his staff. She supposed love could be foolish sometimes.
Today was a dress rehearsal. The dancers gathered off stage, each awaiting their turn to rehearse their solos. She’d excelled in the group number, earning a nod from Darlington and felt energized to begin her individual number. When her music began, Hannah pranced on stage, throwing herself into the steps. She bowed low to the mock audience, and then twirled twice with her hands extended gracefully over her head. Only the euphoria and flow from the group number was missing. Forcing her face to relax so the sudden fatigue didn’t show in her expression, Hannah danced. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, only sipped water. Bright lights tried to bully her into submission.
But midway into the dance, her heart began to race, sweat beading her forehead. The room darkened and she strained for each step. The lights spun. She stumbled, knees trembling beyond simple exhaustion…
“Stop.” Ms. Darlington strode on stage.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, swaying. “I was fine th
is morning. I must...”
“Here, take a sip,” the instructor said, waving over another student who handed her a bottle of water. “What do I constantly tell you about proper nutrition and hydration? Our bodies are engines, they need fuel. Did you eat?”
“Uhhh...”
The woman muttered under her breath. Not in English. “Stupid girl. Come, get off stage, you are my wasting time.”
Hannah was grateful Ms. Darlington was going so easy on her. The concern touched her. She took a step forward...
... and awoke in the nurse's office. Laid on a hard exam table, a cool cloth over her forehead.
“You're awake. Good.”
Hannah sat up slowly. Pressed a hand to her queasy stomach. “I... fainted? I’ve never done that before.”
The nurse eyed her. A short, round woman with shrewd dark eyes and blue scrubs with... dancing bananas. “You don't look like you’re hungry. When's the last time you ate, honey? Drank?”
Hannah ignored the oblique reference to her healthy figure. “I had a good dinner. I skipped breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry.”
“Gotta eat, hon.” The nurse busied herself by rummaging through a drawer. “Here. I keep a box of these. Half you dancers just need a nap and a snack. But we'll run some simple screenings for the sake of the paperwork. Eat this.”
Hannah took the chocolate covered granola bar, checking the expiration date. It wasn't quite up to her current standards, but maybe a bite would do her some good. She took a few bites before her stomach laughed at her. The nurse came back in to Hannah retching over the trash can.
“You really are sick, ain't ya? Here, rinse out your mouth and go pee in my cup, hon. We’ll figure out what’s wrong in a jiff.”
Hannah followed instructions, then waited. The nurse bustled in soon enough, a stack of pamphlets in her hands.
“Well, hon, you definitely ain't sick.”
What?
“Preggers, bae. When was your last period?”
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