One week later, after the castle had undergone a magnificent transformation for the upcoming nuptials and everyone within the shifter kingdom was abuzz with the news that we were planning to unite the shifter and witch community once and for all, the arrival of our guest of honor was imminent.
"Where is your brother?" My father did not look pleased to discover that Isaac had yet to return after leaving the castle two days before to blow off steam. Not that anyone should have been surprised. My brother did as he damn well pleased, and if he didn't get his way, he'd use his dragon half to express his outrage. And there was nothing like a two-ton black dragon having a temper tantrum. Hellfire was a massive understatement.
"I'm not his keeper." I took a sip of the bourbon in my glass and grimaced. This was my father's choice of drink, not mine. I hated this swill. I preferred aged whiskey or a good mug of ale.
"I would disagree. As his twin, you have a unique connection with Isaac that gives you an advantage over the rest of us. Your king relies on you to aid our future prince in every way possible, including making sure this wedding goes smoothly. That means do what it takes to get your brother back in line."
I scoffed at that tidbit of insight, especially since nothing could be further from the truth. Isaac's feelings towards me often teetered between love and hate, with hate winning out a lot more often than love. Although it was often difficult to tell until he shared with me. Which usually meant a massive amount of fire damage.
"Isaac barely tolerates me, let alone confides in me. He prefers his own company. Alone. Half the time he'd rather cut off a wing than talk to anyone else." We both knew this to be true because when we were younglings, he'd done that very thing. Fortunately, the wing had grown back.
"Then use the other half of his time to get him to listen to reason."
Tired of this useless back and forth, I changed the subject. "What do we know about his betrothed?" I'd asked before, but little had been shared with me. For some reason, Isaac and I had been excluded from the peace negotiations this time around. "Is she excited for the wedding? Has anyone shared anything about her?"
My father shrugged. "I would assume she is thrilled. I mean, why wouldn't she be? How often does a woman get to marry an actual prince?"
My mother's laughter filled the room from the doorway. "For a clever king, you are quite full of yourself," She smiled wider. "If I had to guess, I'd bet she is scared out of her wits. What young woman in her right mind would want to marry a stranger? Let alone a dragon. Especially one with a reputation such as Isaac's. Which likely means we'll all have to be patient and give her some grace."
My father frowned. "Mad, my dear. You and I had an arranged marriage, and look at us."
She nodded and moved beside my father, who placed a quick kiss on her lips before he pulled her against his side. "I dare say that you and I got lucky. I'm afraid the same odds are not in Isaac's favor. Most women do not prefer brute force in their men."
"Is this your mother's instinct talking, or have you seen something you have yet to share with the rest of us?"
Mother had the gift of sight. The ancient power of Tallan, gifted directly from the Goddess, that allowed her to see the future and a great many other things. Although not always at the most opportune moments.
"The Tallan has been quiet. I've been meditating all week in the hopes I could see something, but it has not happened. Despite that, my instinct tells me today is not going to go as planned. Call it mother's intuition."
"At this point, nothing would surprise me. Whatever happens today, we shall work through it as a family. Even Isaac can see reason when it's important enough," my father said, giving her another kiss that made me look away. My parents were true mates, an Alpha and his omega. The unbreakable bond between them as palpable as the wind that blew through the trees.
While their relationship had started out as a true traditional arrangement, the story of their meeting had resulted in an immediate transformation. A story I had loved to listen to as a young boy. At least until I'd gotten old enough to understand how that transformation actually took place, and then I'd heard enough. I knew of no one who wanted those kinds of details about their parents’ sex life.
I harbored no false hope that I would one day find the same thing, but I didn't discount the possibility either.
My mother had a gift when it came to people and what they needed. If anyone could help him see, it would be her.
"Isaac may be temperamental, but he knows his place. I trust he will rise to the occasion." I spoke the words without believing one of them.
Fortunately, the sound of horses’ hooves and the squeak of a carriage wheel sounded from the front of the castle, announcing the arrival of our guest of honor.
"I hope you're right," she said before looking at me. The doubt in her words was as clear as the water in the river that ran through our mountains. "I guess we should go greet the girl and try to explain why her fiancé could not be bothered to greet her."
Something she would have to get used to, I thought while barely keeping the harsh words to myself.
"Ian, you'll talk to her, right?"
The story of my life. Always making up for my brother's shortcomings. Although I guess I should have been more grateful that it had not been I who had been forced into marrying a stranger…
Before I could answer, my parents swept through the room and out the front entry. Their assumption that I would fall in line and cooperate in any way grated on my nerves. Isaac wasn't the only one capable of exploding. I might only be a spare to the heir, but I could feel something ticking down inside me. One day soon, I would no longer toe the line behind my brother.
Something was headed our way that could cause that very divide.
I took a deep breath before following them. "Is that her?" I heard my father say before I reached the door.
"Uhm…I guess so. I've never met her," my mother answered.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there was something off in the tone of their words. They sounded so—
I stepped up beside them and drew short at the woman protruding from the door of the carriage. I couldn't really say what I'd been expecting since I'd given it little thought beyond my brother's reaction, but seeing her bent over with her rear end facing my direction while she fished something from the inside was definitely not it.
"Oh good gracious," my mother said before she covered her mouth to stifle a snicker.
My father coughed, and that caught the attention of everyone in the driveway. Including the woman who seemed to be struggling with her bag.
"Oh for goodness’ sake. Ian, go and help the poor girl before she embarrasses herself."
I rushed to the side of the carriage. "Do you need some assistance?" I asked, still somewhat mesmerized by her struggle. And the flare of her curved bottom still aimed in my direction.
"No, I've got it. Thank you, though," she said, her body jerking backward and forward as she continued her plight. Every move threatened to topple her into my lap, causing an awareness I had no business having, tightening the front of my trousers.
"Cordelia!" the woman from the other side of the carriage shrieked when she caught sight of me standing behind her daughter, who remained bent over in front of me, her arse practically in my face now.
"What?!" she asked at the same time she finally got the piece of luggage free. The sudden move made her lose her balance and tumble from the carriage.
Before her bottom hit the ground, I dove forward and caught her around the waist and hauled her upright. Right up the front of my body. And for one sinful moment, all I could think about was how incredible she felt in my hands. There were soft curves upon soft curves, and my mind couldn't help picturing what they might look like unclothed. Or feel pressed against me…
"What the—?" she said, through a long curtain of black-as-night curly hair that currently shrouded most of her face. That moment of seeing but not seeing only lasted a second, but the desire to brush the hair out of her face and get my first look at her rose swift and sharp. Her hands, however, came up and pushed it out of the way and away from her face, beating me to it.
Our gazes met, and for a moment it felt like time stood still. She wasn't at all what I had expected, and yet, she was so much more. Her skin was the color of warmth and smoothly unblemished, as if it had never seen the sun. Her nose a small silhouette but slightly disproportionate to the rest of her larger-than-life features. Her cheeks were a slash of bright pink from either embarrassment or surprise, but it was the green gold color of her eyes that drew me in and made it impossible to look away. They were nearly the identical color to my brother’s, except for the additional flecks of brown as the setting sun danced across her face.
"Oh," she said on a pant. "I'm—I'm so—darn it. Are you—oh boy." She dropped the bag, picked up the edges of her deep-blue skirt, and then dipped down into a curtsy on shaky legs. "Your Highness."
And for the first time in my life, I experienced a glimpse of what it must be like for Isaac. To not care about anything because everything was given to him. No matter what it was. Anger and hatred swelled fierce inside me in a flash, and for the first time in my life, I believed I hated my brother enough to kill him. Because this creature—this woman—was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life, and she belonged to him.
