of jeans and a dark T-shirt as she watched Ariyal finish buttoning the loud red Hawaiian shirt with yellow flowers. In the past few days they’d come to a hard-fought agreement that when they were in mixed company she would put aside her stretchy pants and sports bra, while he would cover that magnificent chest.
Mating, she was swiftly discovering, was all about compromise.
They braided each other’s hair. Then as his hands began to roam in a manner that warned his thoughts weren’t on their impending meeting with Styx and Salvatore, she firmly took his arm and steered him out of their private bedroom.
“We can play later, Sylvermyst,” she promised, leading him down the carved oak staircase that glowed in the light from the small crystal chandelier hanging from the open beamed ceiling. “Styx and Salvatore are already here.”
He grimaced, his hand flexing as if he was considering the comfort of calling for his bow and arrow.
The truce between the three powerful leaders was uneasy, at best.
“What if I tell them to go?”
“They’ll just come back later,” she warned, a smile curving her lips at the large bouquet of wildflowers that was arranged on a table in the small foyer.
Ariyal’s love for nature could be seen in crystal vases all over the house, perfuming the air and adding splashes of color that Jaelyn was rapidly becoming addicted to.
She’d had no idea how bleak her life had been until it was filled with Ariyal’s vibrant warmth.
He tugged on her braid, his expression rueful. “Didn’t you make me promise that if we survived we were done saving the world?”
“All we’re doing is meeting with Styx and Salvatore.”
He grimaced. “I’d rather meet with the Dark Lord.”
“Ssh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “That’s still a possibility, you know.”
He heaved a sigh. Although he was convinced that the Dark Lord couldn’t use his new body to travel into the world, there was no doubt that the bastard was on the other side plotting a means to return.
So long as he existed, there would be danger.
“Fine,” he said, “but spending time with the Royal High-nesses gives me a rash.”
She chuckled, studying the elegant beauty of her mate’s face. “I thought you blue bloods like to hang together, Prince Ariyal?”
He swooped his head down, pressing a possessive kiss to her mouth.
“I prefer to hang with my princess,” he murmured against her lips.
She pulled back with a snort.
Princess.
It might be true that she was becoming fond of Ariyal’s people. Excessively fond. And that she would kill anyone or anything that tried to harm them.
But she’d be damned if she’d be called princess.
It was just so ... pansy-ass.
“Watch it,” she muttered. “I already told Elwin that if he ever called me that again I would slice off his tongue.”
He arched a teasing brow. “But whether you like the title or not, you are their princess.”
She shook her head as they moved to the large room at the front of the house that had once been the formal parlor.
When they’d first arrived it had been stuffed full of the former housewife’s finest possessions. Sofas, chairs, china cabinets, and a grandfather clock that Ariyal had taken out back and burned within minutes of their arrival.
There was nothing quite so annoying to creatures with super hearing than the constant tick tock of a clock. Add in a cuckoo bird and it was nothing short of hell.
Now it had been thinned to a few sturdy pieces of furniture and shelves that Ariyal had built to display their collection of ... well, they hadn’t exactly agreed what they would collect.
But whatever they chose, it would be theirs.
A display of their life together.
“Princess. That’s going to take some getting used to,” she admitted.
His eyes filled with a smoldering warmth as he deliberately ignored the large vampire and pureblooded Were who stood with unreadable expressions near the bay window.
A warmth that she felt down to the tips of her toes.
“We have an eternity,” he promised.
“Do not be so certain, Sylvermyst.”
The voice of Kostas echoed through the room a heartbeat before the Ruah dropped his shadows to reveal his large, muscular body that was attired in a black T-shirt, camouflage pants, and shit-kicker boots.
Decades of training sent Jaelyn to her knees, her head lowered as her leader approached.
In the back of her mind she’d known this confrontation was coming. You couldn’t defy the Addonexus and expect to get away unscathed.
But she’d hoped that she would have time to discover some escape clause that would allow her