Chapter 6 : Royal Dinner Date

No.

It’s far too risky, and the idea horrifies me. It’s bad enough I'm plotting to murder the kings of the Ruby Nightclaws. To lead them on and pretend to be their fated mate to lure them to their deaths is beyond the pale. I do have my limits, even for tyrants.

It seems dishonorable to trick them any more than I already am. Plus, my wolf is filled with rage at the idea.

I’ll find another way.

It doesn’t help my resolve or my guilt that the slinky black sheath dress feels finer than anything I own. It comes just down to my knee and has puffed sleeves. The high-heeled shoes–my size–are so shiny it’s blinding. With my hair pulled back in a ponytail and cascading over my shoulder, I look elegant.

At a quarter to six, I step outside my room and find Lucas waiting for me. He gives me the once-over and nods approvingly. “Allow me to escort you.”

In the cool of the evening, the palace is full of light from torches and lamps. I wonder what it would be like to live here, to enjoy the beauty every day.

On the way to the dining room, Lucas introduces me to the kings’ beta, Stewart Sloan, the strong, silent type. He greets me with a smile and tells me, “Make those rogues sorry.”

“That’s a promise,” I reply.

The dining room is grand, even if I can’t imagine eating here every night. The kings rise from a long wooden table that can seat forty, covered with a cream-colored tablecloth.

They’re all dressed for the evening, and my mouth goes dry.

Wiley strolls over and hands me a glass of wine. He’s traded his yellow for deep purple, the color of royalty. “I think you earned this.”

“Especially because she looks stunning,” Jordan adds, a vision in navy blue with a silver shirt. It makes his blond hair and brown eyes pop.

Dressed in a different shade of green, Kent's eyes slowly look me up and down like he’s taking his time to drink me in. Then he nods with a seductive smile. Understated. Is he aware of how sexy that is?

“You all look incredible yourselves.” It’s the truth.

Wiley puffs out his chest. “So, Aurora. Tell us more.”

“Yes. Tell us more about you,” Kent says, rescuing his brother. “Did you always want to be a hunter like your father?”

There’s that darkness in his eyes again when he talks about my father. I’m reminded that these men, no matter how winsome, hurt him.

“Do you know him?” I ask, sipping my wine. It’s excellent. Full-bodied and sweet, with a bit of a bite, like the kings. “I mean beyond his reputation.”

“We’ve met,” Kent says simply.

I probe further. Of all the brothers, he’d be the hardest nut to crack. “When he was hunting in your kingdom…I think he mentioned it.”

Kent nods, staring at me with that eerie green-eyed focus. His eyes are enchanting.

Get a grip, Aurora. You’re not sixteen.

“We got into it.”

Kent’s words make me do a double-take. “You and my father?”

I hadn’t known which king he fought but was surprised it was Kent.

He shrugs humbly. “In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not proud of my behavior.”

“But we were impressed.” Wiley wraps his arm around his brother.

Jordan raises a hand. “I didn’t exactly come off as the model of kingly behavior, either.”

Now I'm on the edge of my seat. “What happened?”

“We’ll let Kent tell the story. He’s a good storyteller when he puts his mind to it,” Wiley says.

Kent takes a long drink of his wine for courage. “He was hunting an elk, a huge one.”

“It had a temper,” I murmur, remembering one of my dad’s stories. “Sorry to interrupt. Go on.”

“It did have a temper,” Kent said. “I think it was in a bad mood that day. It was charging him and he ran straight at it with claws and teeth.” He sounds somewhat impressed. “It would have trampled him.”

My heart is in my throat. “What did you do?”

I’ll have to scold Dad when I next talk to him. He taught me over and over not to anger my prey, to think before I pounce. I wonder if Mom knows. He left that part out of his story about the kings hurting him.

“Yelled at him to stop acting like a fool and then shifted,” Kent said. “I had to act–”

“We were right beside him,” Wiley adds.

Kent talks over his brother. “My brothers were with me, and we thought that we’d all pile on him. We did, but the poor man couldn’t breathe. It was another reckless move on top of his. And the elk was still coming. Inches away from trampling us into the ground. They’re majestic animals, but not to be fooled with.”

I’m holding my breath. “What happened?”

Kent has everyone in the palm of his hand, even though his brothers know the story.

“We played dead. We may have suffocated your father before it was done, but he’s still alive. The elk stopped because we were blocking the way and it ran off in another direction. I can still hear it snorting. We didn’t get up until we could no longer smell it.”

I finally breathe. “Moon Goddess. I never heard that story.”

Or I did, but not the whole story–one that doesn’t exactly flatter my father. Of course, these men would try to make themselves look like the heroes. On the other hand, I can picture my father doing something impulsive in the heat of the moment. Mom doesn’t let him go on a hunt without warning him to be smart and stay cool.

“Thank you,” I hear myself saying.

Kent shrugs. “We had words after. Howls, really. I won’t tell you what was said, by any of us, because you’re his daughter. That’s the part that makes us look less than kingly.”

“Oh, there was a lot of howling,” Jordan volunteers.

“And wolf cursing,” Wiley says. “After we howled ourselves hoarse, he ran off in a fury. So did we. Without seeing that he was alright, I might add. He looked fine. Was he?”

I hesitate. “He’s got a tiny scar on his face.”

He didn’t stop to see that they were fine, either. If they’re tyrants, I suppose I can’t blame him. But on the other hand, they did save him.

Jordan winces. “Sorry. That’s a painful reminder.”

“Well, at least you’re all still in one piece,” I say, not knowing what to believe.

I’m sure it’s all crafted for my benefit to fool me. They just said Kent is a great storyteller, and he is, adding just a touch of responsibility on their part to make it look realistic.

Still, they didn’t have to admit they did anything wrong. My father certainly didn’t. Not when he talked about the bad-tempered elk, and not about the kings. The first was bad luck and the elk’s fault. The second was the kings’ cruelty. Maybe he was just embarrassed–and he knew Mom would never let him hear the end of it.

“I’ll be having words with him myself,” I say, meaning it. “And if it ever happens again, Mom will hear about it. She’s gentle until you do something stupid like that.”

“Do you look like her?” Wiley asks.

“We’re mistaken for sisters,” I say.

They all get sweet smiles on their faces.

“Did you ever want brothers or sisters?” Kent asks.

“Only all my life, but it was nice being an only child,” I say, and catch a whiff of something mouth-watering.

“Dinner is served,” Jordan announces, taking my arm and escorting me to the table.

Wiley pulls out my chair while Kent pours me more wine, and they all sit close to me. Jordan’s at the head of the table with me on his right and Kent on his left. Wiley sits across from me.

Over a green salad, corn, and fish chowder, they continue to pepper me with questions, wanting to know about me.

“What’s your hidden talent?” Kent asks.

I have to think about that one. “I sing when I hunt. Usually alone. I haven’t scared away the animals yet, so I must not be horrible.”

“If you could travel to any place in the world, what would it be?” Wiley asks.

“I love my life here, but I wouldn’t mind being in any human small town for a few hours.”

Wiley wrinkles his nose. “Why small?”

“Because a pack is like a small town, and big human cities would be too risky. There are a lot more cameras around,” I say. “Plus, I think the small towns probably have a lot of charm–and many of them are closer to nature.”

They all nod. Kent looks dreamy-eyed. “I’d like to go see the pyramids. The Egyptians love dogs, wolves, and jackals. They even have Anubis.”

“They also worshiped cats,” Jordan points out with a shudder.

“I wouldn’t mind a cat,” I say.

“What do you do for fun?” Jordan asks.

I expected that question from Wiley. I have to think for several minutes. “Spend time with my friends and family. Hunting keeps me fairly busy, and Mom’s involved in every shifter charity there is. It feels good to help the pack in other ways.”

The brothers exchange soft looks that put me on guard, even though my wolf is sulking at my suspiciousness.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Brothers, I think we need to show her a good time while she’s here,” Kent declares. “It sounds like she could use the time off.”

Jordan agrees, “This is good for inter-pack relations.”

I feel a flutter of panic in my stomach and a hunger in my heart. “I’m here to do a job.”

“And we know you’ll deliver.” Wiley leans forward. “Let’s make a deal.”

Jordan pounces. “In exchange for helping us capture these rogues, we’ll show you the time of your life while we have you with us. Are you in?”