Alpha Bear Princes Box Set

by Lily Cahill

  "You may be in danger, Samuel," Agatha said, standing up primly. "Didn't you get my messages?"

  "I didn't listen to them," Sam said, feeling like he was twelve years old again. "I'm sorry. I was going to call you today."

  "No matter now," she said. "We need to go. I've already packed your things."

  "Wait," Sam said. "What's going on here?" He hadn't spoken to Agatha outside of their bi-monthly phone call in years. Now all of a sudden she'd tracked him down here? On the same day Vic had tried to kill him? It felt far too coincidental.

  "There's a lot I haven't told you," Agatha said. "And I don't have time to explain everything now. I'll tell you on the plane. We need to go before they find you."

  "I'm pretty sure they already found me," Sam said.

  Agatha cocked her head. "Who?"

  "A guy named Vic. And two others that looked a lot like him. Big guys," Sam growled. "Like, bear-sized."

  "I see. So you've discovered there are others."

  "Others? You knew there were others? What the fuck, Agatha?" He'd never raised his voice to her before, never used that kind of language in front of her. But he was pissed.

  "I know I wasn't everything you wanted from a mother figure, Samuel. But I did try to be there for you as much as I was capable. Did I ever give you reason not to trust me?"

  "Now is feeling like a pretty damn good reason."

  "Before now, Samuel. Think."

  "No," Sam admitted.

  "Then I need you to trust me about this. Listen to me very carefully. Did you fight them? Vic and his brothers?"

  "Yes."

  "And did they survive the fight?"

  "Two did," Sam said. "But they ran away."

  "How long ago?" Agatha asked.

  "Less than an hour."

  "That might buy us enough time to hide you again," she said, seeming worried.

  "Hide me? I'm not hiding from anyone. Tell me what's going on here, Agatha. Or I swear to God I'll leave right now and you'll never see me again."

  "There are certain things I'm not at liberty to discuss. But I promise to tell you everything I can very, very soon. I just need you to come with me."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you," Sam said. "I have bigger things to worry about than why you've been lying to me all these years. I need to know why those guys were after me."

  "Be reasonable. What could be more important than staying safe?" Agatha asked.

  "Keeping someone else safe," Sam growled.

  Agatha's eyes sparked. She cocked her head and examined him as she spoke. "Did you meet someone, Samuel? Someone special?"

  It was a familiar question--one she'd asked him every time they'd spoken since he left home. But her cautious excitement took Sam off-guard. "Yes," he answered honestly. "My mate. And those goons tried to kill her today. I'm not going anywhere with you until I know she's safe."

  "This changes everything," Agatha said excitedly. "Where is she? Where's the girl?"

  "Outside. Waiting in the truck."

  "Then she needs to come with us too. Grab your things. We're leaving immediately."

  "I can take care of myself. And I can take care of her too. So why would I have any reason to go anywhere with you?"

  Agatha looked him square in the eye. "Because I can take you to the Empress now, Samuel. I can take you to your mother."

  Reality bent and folded in on Sam like an origami crane. "What did you just say?"

  "We can go to her right now. Your mate too. The Empress has been waiting for you to find your mate for a very, very long time."

  "My mother?" Sam asked, still unable to believe what he was hearing. "My mother is alive? And she's the Empress? So that means I'm ... I'm ...?"

  "A prince," Agatha said. "You're a prince."

  #

  Sam agreed to let Agatha take him to his mother, but he insisted on using his own jet and his own pilot. He'd explained everything to Frankie on the way--at least what he understood of the situation so far. She'd called her family to tell them she might be gone for a few days, and now they were speeding through the air toward Fairbanks, Alaska.

  He opened his messenger bag--he'd always preferred a messenger bag to a briefcase--and pulled out his laptop. He set it in front of Frankie.

  "I know we're in a very strange situation," he said. "But my promise still stands. In fact, it's even more important to me now."

  "Thank you," Frankie said.

  "Of course." He took out a pen and a pad of paper and wrote down every password he could think of. "Let me know if there's anything I left out."

  While she did that, Sam went into the tiny kitchen and dug out the first aid kit. He brought it out into the cabin and knelt in front of Frankie. She looked up from her work.

  "Keep working," Sam told her. "I'm just going to check out your ankle."

  He took off her shoe as gently as possible, then examined it thoroughly. It was bruised as hell, but he didn't think it was broken. He wrapped it in ice and made her take a mild pain killer for the swelling. It would be worse with the flying, but he didn't see any way around it.

  When he got up to put everything away, he saw that Agatha was staring at him.

  "I always knew you were born to be a husband," she said with a warm smile. It was perhaps the warmest he'd ever seen her.

  Frankie looked up at the two of them, eyebrows raised.

  "Oh, I see," Agatha said with a light laugh. "You haven't asked her yet."

  Sam gave Frankie a smirk. "Not yet, no."

  "Everything in good time," Agatha said. "Everything in good time."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Francesca

  Frankie spent the next two hours scouring Sam's computer. It had felt invasive at first--it was invasive. But she was determined to know the truth before the plane landed. The more she learned about him, the more certain she was that it was Vic who had been lying to her.

  She'd read Sam's phone records, and only found a handful of numbers he called in New York. Each of them led to a place of business, and none of those businesses had any short, curvy women as staff members on their websites.

  His email was clear too. It was mostly business, but there were enough personal emails from college buddies and high school friends to make her believe it was the only account he used. Anything else would have required him to plan this deception years in advance, and they hadn't known each other long enough for that.

  He didn't participate in much social media--just Facebook and the occasional tweet. The accounts appeared to be active exclusively to keep in touch with old friends. His status was listed as single and had been for a long time. There were some old girlfriends on there, of course. But all of the relationships appeared to have ended more than two years ago--and amicably. Many of the women still kept in touch even though they seemed happily married.

  And the women in the pictures veered more toward her sort of looks than the girl in the picture. Each woman in his past seemed as sturdy as she was tall. She liked seeing that. She liked knowing that his attraction to her wasn't a fluke, but a preference.

  She'd also looked at his bank statements. She'd nearly spit out her coffee when she'd seen the balances in his accounts, but other than that, there were no surprises. There were no expenses from jewelry stores or lingerie boutiques or flower shops. There were no hidden mortgages or insurance policies with strangers listed as the beneficiaries. She'd even seen his will. If he were to die, everything would go to that Agatha woman and no one else.

  But it was more than the absence of things that struck her. It was the presence too. Sam was busy--crazy busy. He was flying between work sites constantly. It looked like he had a dozen going at the moment, each of which he'd visited at least three times a month for the past year. No wonder he needed a private jet. It was an insane work schedule, and no one who kept up that level of work could possibly fit in a fiancé without it being extremely obvious in his schedule. She marveled at how he'd been able to carve out a full week to be in to
wn at all.

  She suspected it had something to do with the word "loser." She suspected it had everything to do with her.

  When she was completely satisfied, she shut the cover and looked up at him. He'd been sitting quietly across from her. He didn't interrupt her with questions or explanations. He didn't interfere at all.

  "I'm finished," she said.

  "And?" he asked. His eyes were earnest and hopeful.

  A pang of guilt shot through her. She could see what he'd been through--how difficult it must have been for him to hurt Vic today. And before that as well. To be accused of something so horrible when he was completely innocent. She realized what he must have thought when she'd said what she'd said to him at her door, too.

  He'd been waiting for her to reject him all along, perhaps from the first time he'd asked her out. She saw that now, saw how impossible he must have felt their situation to be. And all because of what he was--all because of something he hadn't chosen.

  And yet he had persisted. He had fought his fears and self-doubt to fight for her. He had made the most difficult choice of all in ending Vic's life, and she could see it would haunt him for a very long time. It said everything she needed to know about him as a man. It said even more about his true feelings for her.

  "I don't know how he got that picture of you, Sam," she said. "I'm guessing Photoshop was involved somehow. But I know he was lying. And I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm so, so sorry."

  He closed his eyes and she saw his chin quiver for the briefest of seconds before he had control over it again. That was her man. Always strong. Always constant.

  He got out of his seat and knelt between her legs. "Thank God," he said, pulling her close to him, enveloping her fully in his arms and lying his head between her breasts. "I could handle almost anything that happened today, Frankie. But not losing you. I was so scared I had lost you."

  She circled his neck and caressed his scalp, loving the velvety feel of his short hair against her fingertips. She kissed him on top of his head. "You're a good man, Samuel Ryan. You're the best man I've ever known." She promised herself in that moment that she would never doubt him again. And she promised she would do everything she could to help him through the guilt he must be feeling over Vic too.

  He looked up at her with shining eyes. "Whatever happens to us next, I want you to know one thing," he said. He reached up and held her face in his hands. "I love you, Francesca."

  "I love you too," she said, pulling him into a kiss. They were the truest words she had ever spoken.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Samuel

  They landed in Fairbanks, then switched planes. Apparently only water landings were possible where they were going. Sam spent the next three hours vacillating between happiness and worry.

  Happiness, because Frankie was by his side. And not only that, but she'd said she loved him.

  Worry, because he was about to meet his mother. He was fairly certain that what Vic had said about her was a neatly crafted lie meant to poison him against her, and he wasn't dumb enough to believe it. But this was also a woman who had abandoned him at birth. Perhaps it was for his own safety, as Agatha had said. But Sam had spent many years of loneliness paying the price for that safety. And he wasn't entirely trustful that it was worth the cost.

  The plane landed smoothly on calm waters. The sun shone overhead, making the small waves they'd made sparkle. The sight reminded him of Frankie's eyes.

  It was then he noticed the palace. He couldn't believe how large it was. From above, it had been camouflaged by the snow surrounding it. The architecture was actually genius. White marble and glass on white snow. It wasn't exactly something he'd design--he preferred modern simplicity and warmer materials to the opulent starkness of such a place--but he could certainly admire it for its scale and grandeur.

  An enormous snowmobile took them from the lake and through the gates. As they drove toward the wide, white steps, Samuel could see a woman waiting. She was dressed for Arctic weather, not for holding court. But somehow, he knew it was her. It was his mother.

  Next to him, Frankie clutched his hand tight. He was immediately thankful for her presence, and even more thankful that they'd solved their disagreement before arriving. He wasn't sure he could handle this without her, without knowing he had her love.

  "I'm here, okay?" she said. "Whatever you need."

  "Thank you," he said.

  Then he spotted someone else trotting down the steps. Two people, actually. The man was holding the hand of a short, curvaceous woman with light brown skin and dark, steady eyes. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, like him. And he had the kind of hair Sam would have had if he ever let it grow out.

  Sam turned to Agatha. "Is that--do I have a brother?"

  Agatha smiled broadly. "You have three."

  "Oh my God," Frankie said. "It's her. It's the girl in the picture Vic showed me. Which means that wasn't you in the picture at all, not even Photoshopped."

  Sam shook his head. Their resemblance was uncanny. No wonder Francesca had been so convinced of his guilt.

  The snowmobile stopped and Sam leapt down, only pausing to help Frankie hobble down with him, her ankle still wrapped tight.

  His brother charged forward with his hand extended. There were differences, but it was almost like looking in a mirror. "You must be Samuel," he said. "I'm Hudson."

  Sam took his hand, "Good to meet you, Hudson."

  "You look just as dazed as I felt a couple weeks ago," Hudson said.

  "So you didn't know about all this either?" Sam asked.

  "I was just as clueless as you, I'm afraid. Jesus, we look a lot alike," Hudson said. "It's a bit unsettling."

  "No shit," Sam said.

  The two shared a laugh.

  "If you two can stop staring at each other long enough, I'd like to meet your fiancé," the woman by Hudson's side said.

  "Girlfriend," Frankie said, extending her hand to the woman. "I'm Frankie."

  "Good luck with that," the woman laughed, shaking Frankie's hand. Sam noticed that she had a ring on her finger, and so did his brother. "I'm Kay, by the way."

  "Princess Kay," Hudson interjected with a warm grin at his bride.

  "I'm still getting used to that," the new Princess said. "We only just got married."

  "Wow. Congratulations," Frankie said.

  "Thank you. It's truly a pleasure to meet you, Frankie," Hudson said, shaking her hand with a smile.

  Kay nudged Hudson. "Your mom's waiting," she said under her breath.

  "Right," Hudson said. "Come on." Then he leaned in toward Sam and whispered, "Try not to be too hard on her, okay?"

  Sam wasn't sure about that.

  Hudson led Sam and Frankie up the steps to where the Empress was standing, watching the two of them interact with bright, full eyes. She was a beautiful woman--tall and strong with raven-black hair just like her sons. Hope and heartbreak played across her face in equal measure.

  "Samuel," she said, pulling him into a hug as tears streamed down her face. "Welcome home."

  The smell of her unlocked something deep within him. He wouldn't call it home, exactly, but it was recognition. He felt certain he would have recognized that smell in the middle of a crowded room. He felt certain it was something he'd felt the loss of for a long, long time.

  #

  They talked late into the night. The five of them--Prince Hudson, Princess Kay, Sam, Frankie, and his mother, the Empress--sat around a thick wooden table in the kitchen, sipping from mugs of coffee and whiskey. Sam had learned that his mother's name was Colette, but that she preferred to be called Coley. He wondered if some part of him had remembered that about her--and had been subconsciously pulled toward Frankie because of the same quirk.

  Sam also learned the whole story of the terrible circumstances under which he'd left the palace--how his father had been assassinated by the Zoltags, how they'd made threats against him and his brothers before going into hiding, and how his mother ha
d made the heartbreaking decision to send them away for their own protection--and the kingdom's.

  "What I don't see is why we couldn't know?" Sam said.

  "Yes, that must be difficult to understand," the Empress said. Even in his mind, he wasn't quite ready to call her his mother. "But I did have my reasons."

  "Such as?" Sam asked.

  "Children talk. It's not fair to expect them not to. It would have been too dangerous."

  "Then why not tell us when we learned to shift? Or turned eighteen?"

  "Teenagers aren't exactly the most reliable secret-keepers either. And if I'd had Agatha tell you once you were of age, what would you have done?" the Empress asked.

  "Demanded to come here and see for myself, of course," Sam said.

  "And, in turn, given up any possible claim to the throne."

  "I don't understand."

  Hudson interjected. "It's the law. All princes and princesses must leave home when they're of age in order to find their mate. They aren't allowed to come back to the palace until they've bonded. Unless they give up their claim to the throne."

  Hudson went on to explain about the four tenants of shifter society and how the sacredness of love was the highest of them all. The whole situation still felt painfully harsh and unfair, but hearing it from his brother--who had apparently grown up with the same lies as Sam and had now come to terms with them--made it a bit easier for Sam.

  "In my day, it was a happy tradition," the Empress said. "Shifter families would travel to the palace to see the royal children off, and bring their sons and daughters along just in case they were fated to bond. There was a line a mile long and the prince or princess would greet each person individually, looking them in the eye, hoping to find their mate. It would have been that way for both of you as well if things had gone differently."

  Sam could almost see it--how it would be a festive occasion, how it could be the start of an amazing adventure. He imagined himself stepping out of the palace to seek his mate with a heart full of hope.

  "That sounds so sweet," Kay said, squeezing Hudson's hand. They seemed to look at each other just the way he and Frankie did. They seemed completely happy.