by Jane Cousins
It was all Galen could do to keep the expected brooding scowl on his face and not laugh and laugh. Damn, he loved her. Not just because she was his destined mate, but because she was Stephanie. She didn’t care what anyone thought about her. She was funny, smart, caustic, blunt and so Lucifer damn sexy, it was proving challenging to stand so close and not give in to the temptation to touch her.
* * *
Hovering in close proximity by Galen’s side, Stephanie found herself very aware of the amount of body heat he exuded. It was proving a constant challenge not to reach over and stroke his bare forearm and see if she could coax him to burn hotter, just for her.
She was surprised to discover that she was enjoying the party. Psychological warfare was proving just as entertaining as regular, on the battlefield, warfare. Who knew she would find the cut and thrust of verbal swords just as gratifying as pulling her hatchets out and whacking away. Not her. She was genuinely shocked.
The outraged huffy looks, the frequent - couldn’t hide – flinches, and occasional glimmer of outraged tears were turning out to be just as satisfying as when she physically assaulted her foes. It was kind of addictive to see how far she could go.
As yet no one had decided to fight back, but she was guessing it wouldn’t be too long, considering the long line at the bar. Sooner or later someone would toss back enough liquid courage and challenge her. She couldn’t wait.
“Stop bouncing up and down.” Galen muttered out the side of his mouth.
Whoops, perhaps she was enjoying herself a little too much. Re-adjusting her glasses, Stephanie made sure her bland smile was in place. “Sorry. So tell me. I can easily identify the females interested in capturing your eye, and their families. But just who are some of the other players in the room?” Her gaze shifted to a group of tall, human looking females, who all wore long, amber, silk robes. Their hair uniformly silver. Only their ears, pointed at the tips and the two strange bulges under their robes where their scapula should be hinting at their other worldliness.
“Those ladies are from the Bellan Swarm. Their home is to the South. A very mountainous region. They fly, making their home amongst the highest peaks.”
“Is one of them a candidate for your hand?”
“I doubt it, they are a single sex race. Don’t ask, I have no idea how that works. We trade with them. The range they live in has rich veins of piracha, which we need to make our weapons hellfire proof.”
“Okay, and what about those two groups over there?” Stephanie used the end of her pen to point across the room.
“The blue furred lot are the Idelski. They live quite a distance from here, and like us, their lands border those of the Morghdorn Horde. The group with feathers instead of hair are the Pake. They provide us with Gellagh fish. An exclusive delicacy that the upper echelons of my kind enjoy if they can afford it. Personally, I think it tastes like rancid jello. It’s considered rare and has quite a staggering price tag.”
“But the question remains. Why are those three groups here and why do they keep sneaking glances your way?”
“Well, I am magnetic and considered rather handsome.” He batted long, dark lashes Stephanie’s way. Loving the way she snorted a derisive laugh, her blue eyes rolling to the heavens for a split second. No blank expressions for him.
“Perhaps your aunt is considering some kind of trade slash arranged meld contractual agreement and you are the dubious prize on offer.”
“I have no problems with a mixed marriage.” Get the hint woman, claim me. “But as far as I’m aware none of those races can pass as human. Since I make my home on the Earthly plane, I can’t see how such an arrangement would work.”
Stephanie’s gaze zeroed in on a Demoness striding their way, the crowd hurriedly getting out of her way. With her black hair arranged on top of her head in an intricate updo, she looked stylish and confident in a silky, purple, halter neck gown. The female wasn’t beautiful as such but her arrogant manner instantly drew your attention and held it.
Stephanie didn’t need the presence of four Guards, a grey cloaked Shaman and Prince Welst, trailing in the female’s wake, to determine that this was Galen’s aunt, the Queen. It was clear in the superior lift of her chin. In the way those black eyes sparkled with a combination of amusement and condescension.
“Well. Well. Well. Hello, Nephew.” She halted before Galen, her entourage fanning out behind her, Welst moved to stand beside his mother’s left shoulder, a mocking smile lifting the edges of his lips. His dark eyes instantly zeroing in upon Stephanie’s cleavage and remaining locked there. The Shaman hovered, obscured by the hood and the voluminous material of its cloak, at the Queen’s right shoulder.
“Aunt. Wan… Welst.”
Like a shark, the Demoness’s focus instantly shifted to Stephanie. “And just who do we have here?”
“Queen Laynn, may I present my executive assistant, Stephanie.”
“Your Highness.”
“What, no cutting little remark about my height, weight or demeanour?”
“I’m only here this evening in the capacity of assisting Galen to critique the potential bridal candidates on offer. Being family, his aunt, no assessment of your eligibility needs to be made.”
“There are a multitude of She-Demons right at this moment crowding the ladies room, fighting over the mirrors. Trying in vain to catch a glimpse of various bizarre body parts. Then I have those She-Demon’s parents drinking my bar dry and whining to me about your underling’s rudeness. You know, I can’t recall the last time one of my parties was so drenched with conflict. Bravo.”
Galen managed a polite smile that flickered and died abruptly, the surly scowl back on his face. His anger levels had suddenly spiked. Perhaps it was having Welst standing so close to Stephanie and all but devouring her with his gaze. Or perhaps it was his aunt’s presence, knowing she was somehow trying to use him for her own as yet undefined purpose. The idea suddenly causing his gut to roil. Fuck, he wanted to wring her neck, force her to give him some answers.
He’d even started to take a step in her direction, make that image a reality when Stephanie hip checked him. The feel of her arm brushing his cooled the sudden anger that had gripped him.
Stephanie had sensed the sudden change in Galen, noting the vein pulsing in his right temple, his hands curling into fists. It was uncharacteristic of him. She was guessing his stabby symptoms were flaring. Not a good place for it, doubly so in the presence of his aunt. Stepping forward she deliberately bumped into him, drawing the Queen’s attention her way.
“But if I was to critique you, your Majesty.”
Laynn’s focus shifted abruptly, narrowing in on Stephanie once more. A spike of something flickering through those dark depths, frustration? No, she must have imagined it, as that mix of condescension and amusement blazed bright.
Galen couldn’t help but suck in a breath. Fuck. The Valkyrie had done him a solid by snapping him out of the intense anger that had assailed him like a smothering blanket momentarily. But to deliberately rile his aunt? Laynn wasn’t above ordering her Guards to punish anyone who so much as thought of crossing her. Let alone verbally insulted her.
“Critique me? Do tell.” The Queen invited.
“I would have said out of his league.”
Laynn blinked, her mouth pursing for a moment before suddenly she was laughing loudly. “Oh, clever. Very clever. Well, keep up the good work, Galen.” Laynn lifted her nose and inhaled deeply, savouring the thick conflict flavouring the air. “Yes, definitely one of my better parties. The night is yet young, do let me know if you make a decision this evening on your bride. If not, don’t get discouraged, you’ll have plenty more candidates to… critique over the coming days.”
The Queen sailed away, her entourage moving like well trained lackeys in her wake.
Stephanie imagined her hatchets separating the irritatingly smug Queen’s head from her shoulders and this time it was Galen, deliberately brushing against her, dissipating the
bloodthirsty daydream that had gripped her. Yes, right, she needed to focus. Damn, if they didn’t make a good team. She, who had only ever teamed up with her Sister Valkyries, was coming to appreciate having someone of Galen’s smarts and intuition by her side. For a male and a Demon, he was surprisingly… tolerable. Damn high praise indeed from a Valkyrie.
Fingers crossed he would prove just as unobjectionable between the sheets. Freyja, please, let tonight be the night she got to test that theory.
Chapter Eleven
The party was beginning to wind down. The sky outside deepening to a bruised, purple colour. Several family groups had left. Parents seething with rage. Marriageable aged daughters following in their wake with red rimmed eyes, nursing badly dented egos.
On their way to the exit, most shot harsh looks Stephanie’s way. Their gazes promising retribution for the insults that had incurred here this evening.
Stephanie presumed she was supposed to be quaking in trepidation. Not an emotion she was particularly familiar with. Dread? Fear? Terror? Not really in a Valkyrie’s wheelhouse. Sometimes, rarely, they might experience a sense of agitation. Although that only happened if they thought there was a chance the supply of ale might run dry whilst on campaign. Then things tended to get beyond ugly.
Stifling an impatient sigh, Stephanie wondered how much longer it would be before she and Galen would be allowed to leave. She had plans for the big, scowly Demon and that over-sized bed waiting for them back in their suite.
Her sexy daydream disbursing abruptly, as all Stephanie’s instincts shifted into hyper-alert mode. Warning her of approaching trouble. Scoping out the room, she searched for the trigger. Her gaze landing on an unfamiliar Demoness sashaying her way towards them. A tiny, gnawing, niggling sensation blossomed in her gut. Unease? Her? But there was something different about this particular She-Demon, a look in her eyes as they rested upon Galen. Possessiveness. Knowledge. It instantly rubbed Stephanie the wrong way.
Dressed in a midnight blue, strapless, mini cocktail dress, the female surpassed pretty and claimed gorgeous territory effortlessly. Stephanie struggled to identify the female’s faults, real, or imagined. Fighting the overwhelming urge to call her hatchets, step in front of Galen and release an intimidating war cry of challenge. Weird. She’d definitely been away from the battlefield too long, only explanation.
The Demoness was willowy, and lean. Probably just under six-foot without those killer stilettos. Her eyes a stunning, piercing dark green. Her skin flawless and creamy. While silky dark chocolate hair fell down in artless waves to her shoulder blades. Lips, naturally raspberry tinted, tilted up at the corners in clear amusement.
Stephanie opened her mouth, not completely sure what was going to come out when the Demoness held up a hand. “There’s no need to list all my flaws. Galen is very familiar with all my shortcomings. Aren’t you?” Dark green eyes pinned Galen in place.
Grrr, Stephanie found herself hating this female with a surprising passion. That husky voice full of teasing intimacy made her want to rip this newcomer’s larynx out. And while she was at it, she’d poke out those stunning green eyes that roamed over Galen with a familiarity that screamed she had some prior claim on him.
“Aspen… I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I’m a little surprised myself, truth be told.” Aspen laughed softly, self-mockingly.
Stephanie shifted to the left a little so she could see Galen’s face. Was he buying into what ever this clearly old flame was selling?
“You’re here to declare your interest in a forced meld with me?” Galen was confounded. Not because it was a pleasant surprise, but that it didn’t ring true with what he knew about Aspen. She was an ambitious - take no shit - Demoness. They’d had an off and on again five-year relationship, decades ago. Though it had been over ten years since they last crossed paths at the meld wedding of one of his cousins. Thanks to his gossipy sisters he was aware she was currently working as an advisor at the Whitehouse, causing all kinds of mischief and soaking up the benefits.
“Would it really be so bad?” Aspen smiled warmly. “As I recall, we had a lot of fun, once upon a time. We were more than compatible in the bedroom. Similar interests. Both ambitious. Think what a power couple we would make in Washington.”
Gripping her clipboard tightly, Stephanie stamped down upon the urge to see if she could use it to cleave Aspen’s gorgeous head from her shoulders. Grrr, not here. With so many Demons watching this meeting. Including several who no doubt had strong connections to Queen Laynn and would run to her the moment Galen’s assistant stepped out of line. Reminder to self, find a way to sharpen the edges of the clipboard.
Galen absently finished his drink, signalling a waiter for a refresh. “Washington? Not really my kind of town.”
“You’ll have to move soon, set up a new identity. Can’t have those pesky mundanes questioning why you aren’t ageing. Why not Washington?”
“I’m not overly fond of politics, or politicians, for that matter.”
“Neither am I, that’s what makes them so damn delicious to play with. If not Washington, perhaps we could play here at Court for a while. Princess Aspen, you have to admit Sweetie, that does have a nice ring to it.”
Sweetie? Aspen had never been one for endearments. Nor had she ever struck him as the settle down for her eternal life with a forced meld mate kind of Demoness. The mention of them here together at Court? Did Aspen believe she could manoeuvre him onto the throne so she could play Queen someday? If she thought that, it proved beyond doubt that she really didn’t know him.
“We were together over seven decades ago. And my memories of our time together appear to be a little different from yours. I remember us fighting, a lot. About our careers. Our priorities. Whether to live together or not.”
“You clearly had commitment issues.”
“Me?” Galen scoffed lightly. “You must have been unhappy too. Just before we broke things off you started seeing several other men.”
“I only did that to try and make you jealous, to wake you up. Make you realise how good we were together.”
Galen shook his head. “That’s all in the past now. There is no point in re-hashing it, is there?”
“I don’t know about that, it seems your commitment issues have been expunged thanks to your… delicate condition. So there wouldn’t be any need to fight going forward, would there? Not if we were officially melded.”
“A forced melding? Are you saying you would be happy with that, for eternity?”
Aspen’s gaze travelled slowly up Galen’s frame, that smile of hers deepening in appreciation. “Oh, I can think of much worse Fates.”
“I can’t.” He was deadly serious. Thanks to meeting Stephanie, he knew what was at stake. A loveless farce would never satisfy him or his inner Demon now. “And I think it would begin to eat at you after a while as well. Knowing that I’m by your side out of duty, trapped. I wouldn’t be able to leave you, or look at another female, and yes, we might share physical passion, but it would never deepen. Our souls would never connect and truly, truly meld.”
Aspen’s smile disappeared and those green eyes flared with dark emotion. Stepping forward she was all but inches from Galen now, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “My inner Demoness knows you better than anyone. Knows what makes you laugh, angry, proud, and what buttons to push to make you feel desire. I strongly suspect that you and I wouldn’t need any help from those creepy Shamans.” Her breath huffed warm over his ear but Galen remained impassive. His lack of reaction peeved Aspen who leant even closer. “I bet I could claim you right now and your Demon would consent.”
Aspen didn’t appear to care that Stephanie, standing only a few feet away, could hear everything. The She-Demon clearly having dismissed her as nothing more than a servant. Galen wanted badly to look Stephanie’s way to see how this interaction was affecting her. He prayed she’d be jealous. But he’d settle for vaguely disgruntled at being ignored.
; He was about to open his mouth to dare Aspen to make her claim, and watch all her beliefs crumble when his cousin, Welst, interrupted, all but elbowing Aspen away from Galen.
“Now, now, Cuz. No sampling any of the treats before the big announcement party.”
Aspen shot Welst a filthy look. “I need a drink. Galen, we’ll finish our conversation soon.” She sauntered away, adding an extra sway to her hips that only Stephanie noted, as the two males were too busy eyeing one another. A sneering, disdainful expression settling over Welst’s features. Whilst arrogant, superiority shuttered Galen’s gorgeous face.
“Did you need something?” Galen queried, his tone terse.
Welst was probably not conscious of the fact that when he was close to his cousin he instinctively pulled back his padded shoulders and lifted his chin, trying to maximize the height those discreet shoe lifts were providing him. “Your Queen, would like a word… in private.” The sneer dropped from Welst’s face as his gaze shifted to Stephanie, then down to her cleavage where it remained locked and intent. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your lovely companion company in your absence.”
Shit, Galen wanted to talk to her about Aspen. Explain their history. But more, he hated the idea of leaving Stephanie alone with his lecherous, irritating cousin. Hmmm, but given her track record this evening, maybe he should be pitying Welst.
Nah, he’d save the pity and look forward to viewing his cousin’s wrecked and quivering remains once his Valkyrie finished spending some alone time with him. Nodding at Stephanie, Galen turned, and began to push his way through the remaining party-goers in search of his aunt.
Stephanie didn’t like Galen leaving her side, given the number of prowling She-Demons still present with clear avarice in their eyes, all watching him saunter across the large room. And let’s not forget hot-to-tie him down Aspen, of the piercing green eyes, was still loitering somewhere nearby with intent. Talking about claiming him, whatever the hell that involved. Sounding so damn sure of herself it made Stephanie want to cleave her in two.
