The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland 2)

He had a big, rectangular cake in his hands, the kind with white frosting, thick frosting swirls around the edges and massive frosting flowers, these yellow. His face was brightly illuminated by the candles burning on the cake and his eyes were brightly lit at the thought he’d soon be eating birthday cake.

Seriously, my Pop was birthday cake mad. He’d serve birthday cake with candles if a new day dawned if he could.

He walked toward Circe and he was, for some reason, starting a chorus of “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow”.

I looked to Circe who was beaming.

She was happy, no doubt about it. She was safe in this world, my friends and family had accepted her (and our story, weirdly) without qualm (well, by the time I got there they had).

She was no longer the toy of a tyrant or the plaything of a ship full of pirates.

She was free.

This was good.

Very good.

Two good things came out of this. Circe was smiling, her eyes alight and I had a life I knew I’d hold precious currently kicking in my belly.

I smiled.

“Circe?” Marlene called and I turned to look at her.

She looked alarmed.

“Circe!” she shrieked and I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn’t get words to come out and everything, Marlene, the restaurant behind her, the booths, everything was… it was…

It was melting!

Oh f**k!

My head snapped to my father.

“Pop!” I screamed but nothing came out even as I saw the wavy vision of him drop the cake to the ground and start running my way.

He didn’t make it.

All had gone black.

Then it went bright with sparkling shots of pure gold.

Then I was standing in the middle of a cham, a fire burning behind me and a woman with wild, ratty-assed hair wearing a rough sarong tied around her neck fell in a dead faint to the stone at my feet.

I saw movement in the shadows.

It came toward me.

I looked up as it formed into a man’s body and when I did I looked into Lahn’s dark eyes.

“No,” I whispered as he kept coming at me.

I lifted a shaky hand, palm up toward him as my eyes drifted down to the woman at my feet. She was out like a light.

She’d depleted her magic bringing me back.

My eyes went back to Lahn to see he was upon me, the hard muscle of his chest at my palm. I took a step back, he moved fast as lightning and I was lifted in his arms.

I arched my back and screamed, “No!”

“Rayloo, kah rahna fauna,” he whispered, his arms going tight and strong as iron.

I closed my eyes hard and my body went slack in his arms.

“No,” I whispered.

Then we were out of the cham, my ass was on a horse and I felt Lahn immediately swing up behind me.

I opened my eyes to see the Avenue of the Gods in front of me and feel Lahkan under me.

Lahn’s arm got tight around my protruding ribs, he bent me low to Lahkan’s back, he buried his heels in his steed and we shot down the avenue toward Korwahn.

Fuck.

Chapter Thirty-One

The Search

Six weeks later…

Tigresses purred.

I knew this because my now full grown one was lying on her side in bed with me, I had my big belly pressed against her back, my hand was sifting through her soft, thick fur and she was purring.

She was glad her Loolah was home. I knew this not only because of the purring but because she told me.

Suddenly her head came up sharply and she moved quickly to her belly, looking down her body to the door, the purr gone, a low growl in her throat.

I closed my eyes.

Lahn was there.

“Off, beast,” he ordered, she growled a bit more and he clipped, “Off.”

She let out another growl, turned her head to look at me, I smiled at her, she blinked her blue eyes and only then did she get up and prowl gracefully off the bed.

I closed my eyes and waited for it.

I didn’t wait long. I never did.

Lahn joined me in bed then he pulled me to his side, shoving his arm under me and holding me close as he reclined on the pillows.

I had no choice but to rest my head on his shoulder so I did. I kept my eyes closed. Then I opened them because his fingers were drawing random patterns on my hip over the silk of my nightgown and that felt better with my eyes closed.

The problem was, I could see his chest when my eyes were open.

So I was screwed either way.

“Kah Lahnahsahna, nahna rahna linas, shalah,” he murmured, My tigress, your golden eyes, please.

I sighed softly, pushed up to my elbow and looked at him.

God, he was gorgeous and I freaking hated that.

He stared in my eyes and said not a word. Then his gaze moved over my face. Then he stared in my eyes again.

Same drill. Every morning. Every single morning every freaking day for six weeks.

“She keeps it locked from me,” he muttered and I blinked.

Hmm. That was new.

And that’s also when I understood. I finally understood what he was doing.

He was looking for my spirit.

Well, that was gone. He’d broken it.

I looked away.

His hand came up and curled around my jaw, gently moving my face so I was looking back at him.

“I lost your eyes for five months, my doe, and I missed them. Even having them back without your spirit shining in them, I don’t like them turned away.”

Yep, same drill. He was being sweet.

I held his eyes. I did not stare. I did not glare. I waited for this to be done.

Sometimes, it took longer than others. Today, I had a feeling he was in for the long haul.

Then he did something else new. He rolled me to my back and loomed over me, but close, and his hand moved to my big, swollen belly, its warmth penetrating the silk.

“He comes soon,” he murmured.

This was true. It was getting close. Any day now.

And Lahn, I also knew, had given up on his golden girl. I knew this because he told me one time in the dead of night when my kid kicked me so hard he woke me. And Lahn, who had his hand on my belly, woke too. It sucked but I had to admit when I saw his eyes in the moonlight shining bright with wonder, his spirit exposed for me to see, his delight at feeling his child move for the first time not even close to hidden, I liked it. All of it. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

And he had murmured, pressing his hand gently into my belly, “That is a warrior, my golden doe.”

I figured he wasn’t wrong. The kid could freaking kick and he was a mover. It was like he was swimming in there, flips, br**ststroke, the whole enchilada. And he was peeved he didn’t have more room to move and told me so frequently by kicking the crap out of me.