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Authors: Zenina Masters

Tags: #Adult, #Erotic Romance, #Fey, #Magic, #Paranormal, #Shapeshifter

Snarling at the Moon (7 page)

BOOK: Snarling at the Moon
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The lion that eventually overtook her was faster, stronger and had far more grace than the previous version.

Sera slowed and stopped, rolling to her back and rubbing back and forth in the grass. When she had stretched and scratched her itch, she watched the lion run back and forth, chasing dandelion fluff.

A long stretch and she stood, putting her gown back into place, ties and all. She quickly grabbed a hank of her hair and sighed in relief that it was still her normal dark sable. She loved her hair. It was her favourite part of her.

With a motion of habit, she stroked her scars, but they were gone as well. Sera sat and waited for her mate. Eventually, he noticed her and came running over.

She stroked her cheek along his, in the standard marking ritual. He lapped at her tears with his wide, rough tongue and rumbled in comfort.

Sera chuckled and put her arms around his neck, burying her face in his mane.

A moment later, she was holding her mate and he was holding her in return.

“What is it, Sera?”

“The marks are gone. They disappeared beneath this bright new skin.”

“You have your memories, but you don’t need to wear the damage. This is a new start for both of us. We are doing this together.”

She chuckled. “How is your beast?”

“He is concerned for you.”

She kissed him and embraced the fey magic pushing at her, trying to drive away her tears. Elves rarely cried. Apparently, their magic didn’t like it.

She felt light touching her and pulling her upward. She held onto him as the pull continued. “What is going on?”

“You are learning to use light-based magic. I prefer lunar magic, but you seem attuned to the sun.”

He stood and held her hands. “Just go and see what it wants you to do.”

Thankful that the gown was full and swirled around her in silken waves as she rose, she let go of Atter’s hands.

Sera shot into the air and hung fifteen feet above the ground. The power of the sun poured into her and out her hands, feet, mouth, spine and everywhere in between.

Atter rose in front of her and took her hands again. “Take it in and wear it on your skin.”

She nodded and followed his direction. When she had done everything he had suggested, she was back on her feet and her skin was a soft gold, her ears were still pointy and her hair was still sable.
Whew.

He landed in front of her and kissed both her palms. “Ready to meet the staff?”

“You have staff?”


We
have staff. Some are human, some are not. None know you are a shifter or that shifters exist.”

“I presume that the non-humans do.”

He rocked his hand in the air. “No one knows what the goblins know.”

She smiled and looked back to the folly. “Where did the bags go?”

“The staff collected them while we were running around on four feet.”

Sera looked to the house. “I suppose we should get this over with.”

“Ah, if you have that much enthusiasm for our bed, I will die a happy man...eventually.” He winked and offered her his arm.

She smiled and took the arm, walking into the new life with her mate.

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Serapha tried not to be nervous at her second wedding. There were elves, lesser fey, human politicians who had wrangled an invitation and three members of her family who had come when she called.

Her personal maid helped her with her hair for a final time. “Lady Nightsong, you do not need to worry. Lord Artur is enamoured with you. He has finally warmed to the idea of home and family.”

Serapha patted her belly. “Good thing too, Keepa. I gave up on not getting pregnant this month so something is already starting.”

Keepa paused. “You are with child?”

“Currently I am with a cellular cluster.” Serapha looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit that Keepa’s aunt’s skills with the needle and thread were amazing.

“Pardon me for a moment, lady. I will be right back.”

In a flurry of claws and teeth, Keepa ran for the door and headed down the hallway. Sera could hear her go.

Keepa returned in five minutes and smiled. “Apologies, lady. I had to brief the staff. They will be extra vigilant at the reception this evening. Not all members of the fey are pleased by your union.”

Sera swallowed and nodded. “Right.”

“Do not worry. We are now on alert. Nothing will happen to you or the child.” Keepa smiled her snuggle-toothed smile.

“Thank you. I told Lord Artur last night, and he wanted to put the wedding through at that moment. I told him to wait.”

A shimmering pipe blew and it was time for Serapha to make her long hike down through the halls and her new community. The dress she wore was white and gold, the lace dragged and floated behind her for fifteen feet.

The bouquet she held was made of magical flowers, each with a tiny glowing star inside it. Night was falling and harpists played as she walked across the upper balcony of the house and down the steps. Her groom was waiting in the ballroom at the altar made of roses and light.

She put one hand on the banister and walked down the curving staircase until she was in the crowd. The fey stood by, only a few of them knowing what she was. The seers that had sent him to her stood to one side of the gathering with a rank of guards around them, keeping them from casual contact.

Sera smiled at them and inclined her head. The hoods dipped down as she passed, and she continued her journey through the wall of strangers.

When she finished the twisting path, she was able to see Artur Atter Nightsong, her mate and soon-to-be husband.

He smiled, and she smiled in return as she approached him with steady steps.

Everyone that they had invited was there, and it was going to be a perfect night, as long as she could keep herself calm.

The ceremony was short, an exchange of vows and dowry. Atter offered her three small businesses for her wedding present and announced that she had already created parity with her own offerings.

She twisted her lips in amusement. Use of her womb was what he was referring to, but it would have been crass to mention it.

They took hands, were bound by red ribbon, signed documents for human registration as well as the fey gathering.

They finally were able to kiss in front of the crowd, and when the polite and cold clapping was over, it was time for the part that she had both been looking forward to and dreading.

“Are you ready?” Artur was at her side and murmuring in her ear.

“I am ready. I just wish we didn’t have to expose the pregnancy to get this done.”

He nodded. “I will be at your side and my family is standing by to assist in the arrest.

She swallowed. “Let’s do this.”

 

The gifting was more than envelopes for the future. Each of the fey came and offered a boon.

Sera was hungry but sitting in a formal chair with Artur at her side made her feel a little bit better as the first eighty guests came and offered their boons for a future date.

When the elegant woman knelt in front of them, she bowed. “Lady Nightsong, congratulations on your wedding day. I offer you a boon for your future use.”

Sera placed a hand on her belly and said, “For the sake of myself and my child, I ask that your boon be to wear on your own body the marks you etched into mine.”

Lady Norviss’s eyes widened and her magic wrapped around her, acting out the boon she had so rashly promised. Her teeth distended, scars appeared on her neck and that parts of her chest and back were visible as she fought the magic she had set free to do Sera’s bidding.

Members of the fey council came in and hauled Lady Norviss away as her moans, hisses and screams echoed in the ballroom.

Artur held her hand, and she smiled at him as the next nervous guest approached. She accepted their boon and smiled at them through her tears.

Her magic called light to burn away the tears, but she sat through the very quiet revenge and remembered the look of blind confusion on Norviss’s face until she felt the marks around her neck. She might not know of the exact damage she had created on Sera, but she would figure it out.

Artur danced with her until dawn was peeking through the windows. The magic she had accumulated swirled around her, waiting to be used.

“Does it always feel like this? Both hollow and full at the same time?” Sera smiled as they swayed.

“The magic? You get used to it. Folk were generous tonight. You could make spells, enchant objects or gift it again if you like.” He leaned forward and sucked the tip of her ear for a moment.

She went up on her toes. It felt more intimate than him suckling her nipples. “Do that again.”

He grinned. “I will wait for privacy. You have set the household abuzz with your announcement by the way. There are already two sets of bedding underway as well as baby clothing for every age being crafted. Keepa’s family has served mine for generations. This means that her children will have someone to serve.”

Sera chuckled. “You are serious.”

“I am. They are simple and it is good. They are loyal, aggressive and need someone to provide a home for them. Building is the one thing that goblins are no good at. We provide them with homes, they serve us.”

The service was less arduous than anything on modern television about the Victorian era. The goblins at the Nightsong home were happy, protective of the family and now that included Sera.

The few family members who attended the wedding had left early but wished her well.

“How twisted is it that we held the wedding to entrap Norviss?” Sera sighed and pressed her head against his chest.

“It is the fey way. She knew she was taking a chance, but she wanted to be included in our social circle. It might have offered her protection if you weren’t who you were.”

She smiled at his use of the past tense. “How long do we have to dance?”

“I think we have had enough for the night. They have seen us. The goblins have caught the mischief spells and marked those who would have harmed the family. I say we adjourn to bed.”

“What a polite turn of phrase, Lord Nightsong.”

“Well, Lady Nightsong, with you, subtlety just delays my inevitable gratification.” He chuckled, his clear gaze smiling down at her.

“In that case, Lord Nightsong, I will accept your blunt invitation and require you to carry me to bed in the human tradition.”

“My lady, I am delighted to comply.”

He lifted her and her frothing skirts, flying across the crowded ballroom and up to the wide walkway. The crowd below applauded and he grinned.

“Show off.”

He chuckled. “I look forward to you returning the favour.”

Sera looked at her husband with all seriousness. “The next time you are in a ball gown, I will carry you wherever you want to go.”

He grinned and his grin remained as he undid each tiny hook of her dress, and she unravelled his laces.

He had his work cut out for him, but with his arms around her at night, she hadn’t made a run for the woods since she had arrived. Her snarling at the moon was now confined to fights over breakfast for who got the last fruit cup.

She was finally enjoying the parts of life she had missed, and laughter was the chief among them. The best part was knowing that she brought him the same.

Different but equal needed to be embroidered on pillows, and if she mentioned it to Keepa’s aunt, it would be.

 

 

 

Author’s Note

 

 

This book marks the cutting down of my schedule. In order to save my sanity, I am cutting back to three releases a month. One book under Viola Grace on the first, one book under Zenina Masters on the first and one book under Viola Grace on the fifteenth.

I am just warning folks, because I expect to get a lot of backlash for the first little while.

 

Thanks for reading,

 

Viola Grace

[email protected]

http://www.violagrace.com

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.

An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.

BOOK: Snarling at the Moon
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