Sinful Ella and the Wolf

Sinful Ella and the Wolf Why is The Prince of Frey suddenly unable to control the dark secret that could destroy him? When his wolf begins forcing itself to the surface on the full moon and racing off to a nondescript manor in the woods, his confidante thinks the wolf is seeking a mate. But Prince Jarrod won’t risk his crown or a woman’s life by trying to claim one. Meanwhile, beautiful servant girl Ella is being tutored in the ways of submissive pleasure, pain, and bondage at the manor by a pair of dominating mistresses who entertain wealthy noblemen for a living. Though Ella is not permitted a man's touch or the delights of orgasm, she learns all she can to some day please the man she will ultimately love. Amidst sizzling sexual encounters and royal house arrests, the pair forge a fateful bond that could unite them for eternity—or cost them everything. Genre: Fantasy, Historical, Multiple Partners Length: 27,106 words

SINFUL ELLA AND THE WOLF

J. Rose Allister

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

SINFUL ELLA AND THE WOLF Copyright © 2010 by J. Rose Allister E-book ISBN: 1-60601-972-4 First E-book Publication: October 2010 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Sinful Ella and the Wolf by J. Rose Allister from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is J. Rose Allister’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Allister’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To all those who have ever dreamed of running free through the woods under a full moon, and who believe that fairy tales can come to life.

SINFUL ELLA AND THE WOLF J. ROSE ALLISTER Copyright © 2010

Chapter 1 Ella stared out her window at the castle, the way she did each morning to distract herself from the man rubbing her naked body. Dawn’s fog blanketed the landscape but could not hide the distant splendor of the palace. “Spread your legs, please.” She parted her thighs and braced herself on the ledge while the male servant, Andre, dipped a cloth into a water basin at her feet. Her lip caught in her teeth. This was the part that she dreaded most, when he bathed the sensitive flesh between her legs. A vigorous rub with lavender-scented water was required each morning, a ritual that cleansed her and awakened something else as well. It set the tone for the day, one where the servants of the house endured a heightened awareness of carnal need they would almost invariably be denied. She gripped the ledge harder when the cloth slipped between her legs. He stroked back and forth, dragging the cloth over her nether lips while she forced herself to focus on the majestic outline of the palace. Were virgin maids bathed by male servants there? She hardly thought so. Her gaze fell to a flicker of movement by the woods, and she was startled to see a pair of yellow eyes staring back. She gasped and instinctively covered her breasts.

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“What is it?” Andre asked. The animal sat there, staring. “There’s a wolf out there,” she said. “This time of morn? Not likely. Wolves are night creatures.” Long, grayish-black strands of hair fell over Andre’s face while he worked. She averted her gaze from the noticeable tent in the crotch of his breeches, for they did each other the courtesy of pretending not to notice arousal during bathing. Ella didn’t think of Andre in romantic terms anyway, although at forty, he was still handsome and in better shape than most men. She looked outside again. The wolf was gone. Would her service today earn her bare backside a leather riding crop? Would she be chained to the great room rafters to await Mistress Etianna’s wood paddle? She wriggled with impatience for the bathing to end. The sooner she started her chores, the better the chance that the issue of reward versus punishment would be decided in her favor. **** Jarrod Montecleer sniffed along through the woods, backtracking his path. He’d remembered everything this time, except where exactly he had left his clothes. His mind raced while he followed his own scent. Four times now he’d inexplicably found himself near the manor in the woods. The home and surrounding woods were unremarkable, save one striking attribute—the delicate beauty with silken blonde hair who lived in the manor. The woman had shocked him both times he’d seen her, for different reasons. The first time, she’d been out alone in the black of night, hauling a bucket toward the manor. What had a woman been doing by herself out there? Was she daft or merely unconcerned about the dangers that lurked in the woods? That had been a month prior, before he’d thought himself free of the nightly blackouts that kept bringing him here. Now the problem had returned, only this time he remembered everything. Despite a

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fevered struggle, the full moon had beckoned him outside. Once free in the night, he’d raced straight to the manor grounds. It was at first light that he saw the woman again, this time standing naked in an upstairs window. Her breasts were full and swayed deliciously when she moved, and the electric shock of her gaze startled him. His scent sharpened, and he knew his clothes were near. He spotted them at the edge of the woods just as he caught the sound of men on horseback. He froze, flaring his nostrils and pricking up his ears. Not just any men, either. Shit. With an irritated snort, he closed his eyes and sought deep for the burning tingle that began in his spine and spread outward. Soon every inch of him was barraged by the sting of a hundred thousand needles, as though his circulation had been cut off and then suddenly restored. Afterward came a flash, and he found himself bent in half, his hands and feet flat on the dirt just as the royal guard burst through the trees. “Jarrod!” His father looked neither amused nor particularly resplendent despite his mighty white steed and the banners flanking him. The king of Frey’s crown and purple riding robes were askew, as though both had been thrown on in haste on his way out of the castle. Most likely, that was exactly what had happened. “Have you gone mad?” His father roared. “What the blazing devil are you doing outside the castle grounds again? And without any clothes?” Jarrod strolled to his garments and picked them up. “I have clothes, Father. Right here.” “Don’t toy with me, boy,” he said. “I’ve been out half the night searching for you.” “There was no need to abandon your cozy bed,” Jarrod said, pulling on black breeches and an emerald silk tunic. “I’m not an infant.” “No, you’re crown prince of the realm,” the king shouted while

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Jarrod tugged on knee-high boots. “You cannot disappear on a whim. Your security is paramount. Anything could happen in these woods, as you of all people should know.” “I could just as easily meet misfortune in a poisoned goblet.” His father snorted. “Not in my castle. And I will not have you flaunting yourself about in such a scandalous manner.” He turned to the captain of his guard. “Leave his horse and return to the castle. If one word of this is spoken, there will be tongue on the dinner menu and fewer to wag among the guard.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” The prince’s black mount, Draegon, was brought forward while Jarrod fastened the clasp on his black velvet cloak. The king growled. “The royal tailor says you do not allow garments to be made in the purple that is our birthright. You dress as though you are in mourning.” He bit back the obvious response and stroked Draegon’s muzzle. “I hear black is slimming. I imagine it will be quite the fashion someday.” “Purple defines you as royalty.” “Wise, then, that I should travel the woods without such an obvious mark.” “Yet you travel the palace corridors without it as well.” The king watched as the last of the guard retreated. “Why do you persist in disobeying my order to remain within the castle walls?” “Why does any prisoner seek escape?” “A palace is hardly a dungeon.” “May as well be.” Jarrod sighed. “Why did you come, Father? Why not simply trust that I would return?” The man’s gaze darkened. “I should like to trust my only son to obey the will of his father, for the good of an old man’s heart as well as our kingdom. I almost lost you once.” “Your heart is strong, as am I. There was no danger to either.” He gave his steed’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “I merely needed some

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time to think.” The king’s tone bore incredulity. “Think? I suppose a lack of clothing allows more blood to flow to your brain?” He flung back his cloak and mounted Draegon. “Fine. So I wasn’t thinking, exactly.” “Well? What were you doing, exactly?” Jarrod tugged the reins, the animal’s head bobbing with stubborn pride as he fell into step beside the king. “Can you not guess what a young man might be doing when he sneaks out and is discovered naked?” The elder man growled. “No need to risk your neck just to wet your royal spear, son. The nobility would be no more pleased than I to hear of the irresponsible manner in which you are romancing one of their daughters.” He peered at Jarrod. “Who is she? Do I sense a wedding announcement coming?” Jarrod refused to meet the fiery green eyes that were so much like his own. There would be never be such an announcement. He’d lost all hope of that in these very woods four years ago. “She’s no one of consequence.” The elder Montecleer snorted in disgust. “Further reason to stop such foolishness. You’re a royal, lad. Leave the chaff alone and stick to the wheat.” “You’ve bedded women of less than noble blood.” “A king can find plenty of opportunities without rutting in the dirt like a common dog.” He shot his father a sharp look at the reference while they passed under the palace gate. Trumpets heralded their return. The king halted in the midst of the courtyard. “Changes are in the works for you. Big changes. Until then,” he gestured at the guard nearby, “consider yourself under house arrest.” Jarrod’s jaw fell. “What?” “You want to whine about how a royal castle feels like a prison? You’re about to get a taste of it.”

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A dozen guards circled as rage flooded his abdomen. “You can’t lock me up like a common thief!” “Your Highness.” Bernard, Jarrod’s personal guard and so-called friend, reached for Draegon’s reins. “We will escort you to your chambers.” He was still voicing protest at his father’s retreating back when the guard carried out the king’s order.

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Chapter 2 Ella scrubbed the counter with more fervor than was necessary, wishing she could erase the day’s disasters as well. She’d forgotten to mix yeast cakes into the bread dough last eve, which had botched breakfast altogether. At lunch, she’d spilled honey mead down Mistress Faye’s bodice. Then she had displeased Mistress Etianna by interrupting her bath. She’d spotted some plump berries in the woods, berries that could make a lovely tart for the ladies’ dessert. Perhaps that might earn back some of the mistress’s good graces. Ella grabbed her basket and went to tell Andre she was going out. In the great room, her gaze automatically flicked to the ceiling, and she hurried beneath four sets of shackles dangling from the rafters. How often had she been chained here since the sisters had taken her in? Would she find herself here again before the day was out? God, she certainly hoped so. To be a virgin in a house of sexual revelry made her quite the anomaly, a torment of which she was not the least bit fond. Not that she was a tart desperate to lose her maidenhead. She had yet to meet the man to whom she would be inspired to give it. Still, she was a woman now, with all the physical desires that went along with it. Orphaned at seventeen, she’d gone to the manor where her father’s former wife had left behind two promiscuous daughters and gone in search of new male benefactors. Once she was of age, they taught her many things. Like how a whipping could bring feelings other than pain, and how pleasuring her mistresses could bring pleasure to herself. But there were other things she had yet to learn,

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such as the feel of a man’s hands on her flesh or the mysteries of orgasm. Still, she wanted this education so that someday she would know how to entice the man she desired. How to please him like no other. In the meantime, she liked the tingle between her thighs while she watched others fucking, and the way her ass blossomed red and she grew wet between her thighs when she got spanked . She was so distracted by these thoughts that she bumped into Mistress Etianna in the upstairs hall. “Apologies, milady.” “Always underfoot and in a hurry,” Etianna said. Etianna was the elder of her two ex-stepsisters, and the lovelier. Her dark brown hair was braided and coiled on her head, and her dark eyes hid many erotic secrets. She was wearing Ella’s favorite of Etianna’s gowns, midnight velvet with scandalous short sleeves and cut so her bosom spilled over an empire waist. Ella offered a deep curtsy. “I wished to tell Andre I’ll be out picking berries.” “He is helping Faye bathe. She is most excited about tonight’s guest.” She felt the scrutiny of the lady’s eyes and knew she came up woefully short in her faded cotton gown, which had grown threadbare and tight as her womanly curves blossomed over the past year. “I hope to prepare a fresh berry tart to help make up for breakfast.” “Your attentions to Faye at lunchtime were rather lax as well,” Etianna said. “You bathed her breasts clean of the honey mead spill with your tongue, but neglected to see to her lower half. Perhaps you can remedy the oversight by helping Andre attend her. That will make up for your clumsiness better than fruit for dessert.” Ella gave a small curtsy. “Yes, milady.” She headed for the bathroom, but paused. “If I may, I’ve already caused strife today by interrupting one bath.” Etianna turned. “So do not interrupt. Join.” Ella set down her basket outside the door and slipped inside quietly. Faye was moaning in the bathtub, one soapy leg hanging over

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the edge and her head thrown back. Andre was crouched naked outside the tub, sucking on Faye’s nipples. Her eyes were closed, but Andre saw Ella immediately. His brow arched in question. She shrugged in reply and let her gaze run over Faye. The sisters both hungered for sex, but were quite different in other respects. Faye’s hair was as red as her sister’s was dark, both on her head and between the thighs spread wide in the tub. Her thatch of hair was thick and unruly, while Etianna preferred hers trimmed neat. Faye indulged her wild, compulsive behaviors, while her sister exerted control in everything she did. Water sloshed over the tub, and Ella knew her only gown would be soaked if she attempted to service her mistress while clothed. Andre flicked curious gazes her way while she disrobed. With quiet steps she knelt at the foot of the tub, pushed her hair behind her shoulders, and leaned over the tub as far as she could. She pressed her mistresses’ thighs apart and bent to taste her womanly musk. Faye jerked upright, sending warm water sloshing over Ella’s front. “What are you doing?” “Forgive me, milady.” She rose up, dripping bathwater. “Mistress Etianna suggested I aid Andre to make up for soiling your gown at lunch.” Faye settled back. “Oh. Well, don’t sneak up like that. Scared the devil out of me.” Faye’s slit was warm from the bath as well as her need, and Ella worked her tongue over it the way her mistress liked. She slid along her labia, flashing over her clit before sweeping downward again. She teased the entrance of Faye’s opening without driving her tongue inside it. The silken texture and salty sweet taste against her tongue stiffened her own nipples, and Faye and Andre’s moans soon had her wishing she were allowed to slip a hand between her own damp thighs. Soon Faye was thrashing in the water, and Ella held on to keep balance. Just as Faye clenched for release she cried out, “Stop! Stop. I

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don’t want to come yet.” “Damn right you don’t.” Ella straightened with a gasp. Duke Wilfred Walls of Marshton filled the doorway with his massive frame. While her sisters entertained a number of visitors, she did not relish the occasions when this particular one came to call. He had a large fortune to match his massive belly, and his narrow mind was paired well with his small cock. The sight of him rutting on the sisters like a grunting hog was uninspiring at best, and Ella often wondered at the sisters’ choice of bed partners. “Your Grace!” Faye sloshed water onto Ella’s feet as she rose. “You’re early.” Andre toweled Faye dry while Ella decided whether she would be permitted to get dressed. Opting against such a presumption, she pulled her long hair forward to cover her naked flesh. “Early?” the duke said, his beady eyes glittering with obvious lust. “Looks to me like I’ve arrived half past the fun.” “Mere preparation,” Faye said. “You offer such an overwhelming ride I find I must warm my muscles first in order to survive it.” Ella wondered whether it was more a case of needing to warm up to near orgasm just to tolerate it, but said nothing. He strode over and gripped the redhead’s creamy breasts. “Yes, and I am looking forward to tonight’s overwhelming ride.” Their tongues sought each other for a time, and then Faye pulled back. “Shall we dine first?” His eyes shifted to Ella, who was inching toward her clothes while hoping to remain invisible. Her cheeks warmed at his leering gaze, and she saw the little bulge in his crotch jump. “Well. What have we here?” He gave Faye a greasy smile. “As to dining, I could make a meal out of this one.” “She is just our servant, milord. And untouched.” “Really?” His beady eyes widened to something near human. He pushed Faye aside playfully and approached Ella.

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She lowered her eyes and curtsied. “Your Grace.” She flinched when he swept her hair aside and sucked in a breath. “Perfection. A virgin elf, here to steal my breath away with her magic. Is she new?” Ella uttered a silent curse at the feel of her nipples hardening under his gaze. He no doubt would take it as a sign that she lusted after him, when in fact it was nerves and the chill of the room. “She’s been with us for months.” “Indeed? I’ve not noticed.” “Ella is just recently of age,” Faye said. He turned to Faye. “I must have her tonight.” Cold fear swept over her. Surely her mistresses would not allow such a thing? While she relished the thought of someday being granted womanly liberties such as an orgasm, she long dreamed that the man who claimed her maidenhead would be one for whom her heart pounded. “I’m afraid her virginity is not up for grabs,” Etianna said from behind him. “Yet.” “I can make it well worth your while.” He turned back to Ella, who panicked when he reached for her breast. Pulling back would appear rude, garnering the disapproval of her mistresses. If she permitted a man to fondle her, however, this would also displease them. Not to mention herself, where this man was concerned. Etianna inserted herself between them, waggling a playful finger. “Ah ah, none of that. No man may touch Ella. But,” she said, in an exaggerated tone that lightened his darkening gaze, “you may help us with her training tonight.” He considered a moment, and then turned a leering gaze on Ella. “Very well. I shall look forward to seeing she is properly educated.” ****

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Jarrod paced back in forth in the Red Room, so named for its red velvet furnishings, flecked red and gold wallpaper, and thick red carpet. Considering his current mood, it seemed the perfect place to fume over his father’s decision to see him officially imprisoned. As though he didn’t already have his own private jail. “Your Highness.” Jarrod scowled at the muscled figure bowing in the doorway. “If you’re here for an I-told-you-so, save it.” The guard stepped into the room, smoothing his blue velvet tabard. “Like that would do any good.” Jarrod moved to the sitting area nearest the far window and sat. Waning sunlight turned the room to a darker blood red. He waited for the other man to close the door before speaking. “I’ve lost control, Bernard, and I don’t know why. I’m afraid it’s going to cost me everything.” The guard’s black braid fell over his shoulders as he sat down across from the prince. “It seems to be giving the king more gray hairs than normal. The men were surprised when he insisted on joining the search this time.” Jarrod grunted. “How long was I gone before they noticed?” “Hard to say, since you never recall anything.” “Yes, but I didn’t black out this time.” Bernard blinked. “Tell me.” Jarrod looked out to where the sun caressed the horizon. “I felt the moon calling to me. It was powerful, irresistible. Like the early days.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I tried to fight the call, but it was too strong. I slipped out the window of my chambers and hugged the shadows until I was off the palace grounds.” “How did you escape the guard?” “I don’t know. I could just sense how and where to dodge them. I shifted into the wolf as soon as I hit the woods.” “What time was this?” “The fever came on around midnight.”

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The other man nodded. “Did you go to the same place?” “I ran straight for it.” He folded his arms. “I can’t help but wonder whether the manor is somehow responsible. Maybe some sort of witchcraft exists there, some draw I don’t yet fathom. Perhaps if I figure it out, I can get control of the animal before it swallows me whole.” Bernard narrowed measuring gray eyes. “You said there is nothing unusual about the place.” “Nothing. Well, except for the girl.” A brow lifted. “Girl? You never mentioned a girl before.” “I only saw her once before.” “And?” His cock pulsed at the thought of the way she’d been framed in the window, bare breasts in full view and dazzling blue eyes catching hold of his soul. “She is beautiful, no doubt.” He considered the night she’d been carrying a bucket, dressed in a plain gown and shawl. “But naught more than a servant.” “A girl.” Bernard broke into a grin. “A girl!” Jarrod frowned. “Yes, a girl. What’s so fascinating about that?” “Wolves are fiercely loyal, you know.” “So?” “And they mate for life.” Jarrod stood. “I’m not looking for a mate. I can’t risk it.” Bernard stood as well, still smiling. “Perhaps your wolf could.” “Ridiculous.” “What else? For two months, the full moon calls your wolf at the stroke of midnight. The beast takes over and races on pure instinct to the door of a beautiful girl. Did you bed her?” Jarrod stared in contempt. “Of course not. Weren’t you just listening?” “Weren’t you? The mating instinct is quite overpowering, Your Highness. It could be that your wolf has chosen a partner, whether you want one or not.”

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The prince growled. “It can’t do that. She would not survive whole.” “You don’t know that.” “No? According to you, a human who beds a were will be turned in the process.” Bernard shrugged. “That is what legend says.” “And you know I would not bestow that fate on anyone.” “What if it were her choice to permit it?” The prince shook his head. “I would not permit it. It would be wrong, not to mention suicide. Besides, how much harder would it be to keep my secret if my princess were also afflicted?” “If this matter isn’t cleared soon, the secret will out either way.” “I know.” Jarrod strode to the window, staring over the treetops to where the manor lay hidden in the woods. “What if the girl is responsible?” “Then you must decide whether to claim her as your mate.” “I don’t mean your theory. What if she’s some sort of witch?” Bernard arched a skeptical brow. “You really believe magic draws your beast there?” “Yes, why not? Perhaps the supernatural part of me is sensitive to mystical workings.” Bernard looked doubtful. “Perhaps.” “I must know. It will cost me my crown and my life if I don’t regain control of this.” “Your father would not execute you because of what you are.” “He wouldn’t have to. You of all people know there are those who would see to the end of a werewolf, one way or the other.” Bernard rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “They would have to get past me first.” Jarrod smiled. “You are a devoted guard, friend. One I trust. But even I’ve managed to give you the slip.”

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“Only you have managed that.” He flicked a purposeful glance out the window. “Something we should discuss now, before moonrise again takes hold.”

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Chapter 3 Twilight had fallen and there was still supper to prepare, but Ella had been forbidden to do anything but sit in the armchair and watch. You can help us with her training tonight. Some rather large monarchs fluttered in her stomach at the thought of the duke aiding her instruction. His sexual influence was about as welcome to her as slugs in the kitchen garden. Yet, Etianna told him Ella could not be touched, so that was something at least. Mayhap his role as assistant would take place from a distance, like in another room. Not that such seemed likely, considering the scene before her. Faye and the duke were naked and chained to the rafters, facing Ella with a flush of visible excitement. Etianna regarded them while walking in naught but boudoir slippers and a cache of pearls at her throat. The woman wore nudity the way others wore couture, elegant and grand. Her body was lithe and her breasts were small, but with a slight upturn that encouraged her nipples to be ever erect. Etianna retrieved a soft crop from the nearby side table before moving behind an already squirming duke. “Andre,” she said, “see to it your mistress’ ass is warmed. By hand.” He immediately complied, and a loud slap followed. Faye moaned while Etianna rubbed her crop on the duke’s ass. “Does His Grace enjoy my whip?” “Call me Wilfred,” he said, his voice strained. Ella felt her stomach warm as Etianna’s hand drew back. He tensed and gasped when her snapping stroke connected. Ella recalled how the first stinging blows shocked her body but soon heated into a

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tingling need that spread throughout her abdomen. She unfolded her sweaty palms and gripped the arms of her chair. She did her best to ignore Wilfred, instead watching Andre work. His tunic hung loose over tan breeches that no doubt concealed an erection by now. His gaze was fastened to Faye’s ass while he delivered even, firm slaps. Ella had never been allowed to have spankings skin to skin and tried to imagine what a man’s hand would feel like delivering such discipline. She tried not to squirm in her seat, but it was becoming more difficult to restrain her growing desire. The spanking ceased, and Etianna knelt in front of the duke. Her head bobbed back and forth over his member, and greedy sucking sounds followed. His head dropped back with a moan. “God, Etianna,” he ground out. “You suck like no woman I’ve bedded.” “Hey,” Faye said, her chains rattling. “What about me?” Wilfred grinned. “Sisters can have different talents. You ride a man like wild Godiva racing to a fire.” Faye flushed with pleasure. “Andre. Come fuck me.” “No,” Etianna said. “You wait for our guest, Faye.” She leaned back, sitting buttocks to heels. “Your Grace, what special pleasure may we offer you this eve?” His beady gaze flicked immediately to Ella. “Besides her,” Etianna said. “She is not touched by men yet.” “Not touched by men,” he said. “But not untouched?” There was a brief pause. “She has serviced us, but we have not returned the favor.” His gaze darkened. “Then I wish to see you taste her.” Ella gasped. She could hardly breathe when her mistress came and stood over her. “Ella,” Etianna said, “lift your dress and spread your legs.” Unable to trust her voice, she nodded and wriggled her ass until her skirts were bunched around her waist. She sat with her knees parted and bare cheeks resting on the warm seat.

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The duke sucked in a breath. “Gods, the maid wears no undergarments?” Faye giggled. “Our servants aren’t allowed any. It causes the most delicious rubbing to be naked under your clothes. Keeps them in a state of arousal.” The man swore an oath. “And she’s blonde below like the sunshine on her head. How I’d love to taste that honey.” A fierce rush of heat flooded her cheeks at the close scrutiny she was receiving. Even Andre was watching with an intensity she’d not seen on his face before. Etianna dropped to her knees before Ella, and the first touch of her fingers parting Ella’s curls made her jerk in surprise. “Relax,” Faye said. “Enjoy the ride. I fancy you’ve earned it, despite your clumsiness.” Ella closed her eyes. She felt hot breath on her sex, then a wet tongue brushing the delicate inner lips. She arched against the chair back. No other part of Etianna touched her but quick, flicking moments of wet fire against throbbing flesh. Soon Ella was pushing her hips up to try and get more contact. Etianna pulled back. “No, Ella. Let it happen. Show discipline.” “Yes, milady.” She took in a deep breath, willing her heart to slow and her body to obey. The effect of tongue on flesh was maddening, like being trapped where heaven and hell met on the horizon. A prickle of perspiration dotted her forehead and her stomach tightened with delectable tension. She was handling herself fairly well until Etianna hit a particularly magical spot just beneath her clit. Then one of Ella’s hands left the chair of its own accord, to press her mistress’s head more firmly against the sensitive spot. Duke Wilfred growled in obvious passion, but Etianna pulled away. “No more.” “Please,” Ella cried out. “Forgive me. Don’t stop.”

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“Yes,” the duke said. “I would see more of the elf’s pleasure.” Etianna’s glower suggested Ella would be sorry the duke had sided with her. “Andre? Bind Ella’s hands behind the chair.” Andre removed his belting and did as instructed. Once she was secure, the tongue lavished her again, this time without mercy. It slid back and forth with the same teasing strokes that drove Faye mad. When it circled her clit, Ella gasped in hope that the ecstatic licking would never end. When it dipped to her virgin entrance, Ella prayed it would stab deep inside. Soon she was frantic, pulling at her restraints and whimpering in frustration. “She’s getting close,” Faye said. Etianna murmured against Ella’s pussy, causing waves of pleasure to begin centralizing in one spot. “Not close enough.” Fire licked at Ella’s body, and sweat trickled between her breasts. “Please, mistress. Please let me come.” With a smile, Etianna pulled back and left Ella bereft. Her sex throbbed while her mistress turned away and walked up to the duke. “Did that please you?” She reached down and grabbed his stiff, bobbing cock. “I can see that it did.” Frustrated tears stung Ella’s eyes while Etianna reached over and slapped Wilfred hard on the ass. “You naughty man.” To her sister she said, “Ready to get fucked?” Faye’s red hair flew as she nodded eagerly. Etianna gestured for Andre to stand by her. “Have at it, then.” Faye’s smile fell. “How? We’re both chained.” “Be creative.” The two wiggled to face one another. Faye managed to get close enough to rub her thatch against the duke, but no manner of maneuvering could quite get his cock between her thighs. “Can Andre at least give me a boost?” Faye said in obvious irritation after a couple minutes. He helped lift her ass while she wrapped her thighs around Wilfred. She crossed her ankles behind his back, and the two writhed and twisted until his cock finally slid inside her. Both moaned in

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gratitude and began pumping while Etianna whipped the duke’s ass with her crop. His face turned red and he grunted with exertion. They became increasingly wild with lust, and Ella could contain herself no longer. She pushed her thighs together against her clit, wriggling on the chair to find relief from the ache building in her loins. Etianna caught sight of this, however, and raced over. “So disobedient.” She sank between Ella’s thighs and held them apart, her head agonizingly close to Ella’s snatch while the lovers screamed out their climaxes. Ella’s need morphed into a heavy ache, akin to the cramping that came with her monthly time. She was still bound to the chair when the others were set free. The duke came over with his cock bobbing and released Ella’s hands. “That was some show, maiden elf,” he said. “You’ll make a fine whore, just like these two.” Her mouth fell open and disgust heated her stomach. “How dare you. I’ve no intention of being a whore.” Faye’s hand shot out and slapped Ella’s cheek hard enough to bring tears. “That’s the thanks we get for taking you in? Insults about our lifestyle?” Ella pressed a hand to her burning jaw, wondering why she’d earned the blow when the duke had paid the insult. Etianna glared. “Apologize to His Grace at once.” Sick dread floated in her abdomen as she dropped to her knees in front of him, ignoring the lusty twitch of his member. “A thousand pardons. I have no idea what evil possessed me.” He laughed. “I do. You’re full of lust after watching what my cock can do for a woman. Understandable, but you must learn better control.” “I believe there is supper to prepare,” Etianna said. “And a berry tart?” Ella blinked. “Yes, mistress, but I’m afraid it is too dark to gather berries now.” “Perhaps the fresh air will clear your head, give you a chance to

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consider your behavior.” Her pelvis ached as she got to her feet. “Yes, milady.” The full moon shone down when Ella left the manor, lighting the way until the woods plunged her into darkness. She held out her candlestick while she picked her way through the trees, trying to remember where to find the berries. A rock snagged her foot and she fell, her basket and candle tumbling away. She wasn’t hurt, save the ache of unreached orgasm, but fatigue overwhelmed her. She laid still and made no attempt to move. The sisters said they were helping ready Ella for the right time, which she thought meant they were teaching her to please the man who would ultimately love her. How stupid she’d been not to see them for what they truly were. Ella held them in no disregard for taking sexual liberties. So what if women rejoiced in flesh the way that men did? But then, she hadn’t realized they were simply selling favors like common tarts. After a brief marriage to her father, her stepmother had been banished for infidelities. She, in turn, abandoned her daughters to look for other benefactors. How foolish it had been of Ella never to wonder how they afforded their existence, but it made sense now. The ugly men they preferred to bed were invariably rich and had bestowed gifts and monies in return. These were not independent young ladies sowing wild oats. They were earning coin to maintain the illusion of comfort. And they thought Ella was their next commodity. Perhaps she judged such a life too harshly. After all, marriage was a financial contract for sex, was it not? Yes, she dreamed of passion and romance as part of her nuptials. But fairy tales didn’t happen for everyone. Her life certainly hadn’t been one thus far. Tears fell hot against her cheeks. If her body was not truly being saved for a man of her dreams, then perhaps she should reconsider how it was used. And by whom. After all, why not? Who would catch her out here? Her hand slid up to cup the roundness of her breast. She squeezed,

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delighting in her full, firm flesh. Her nipple pebbled with desire, and with a murmur of pleasure she stroked the hard nub. The ache in her abdomen gave way to a stab of need between her legs. She was reaching for the lace of her bodice when she heard the snap of a twig nearby. With a gasp of fright, she whipped her head around. Then she wished she hadn’t. There in the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back. **** Jarrod stood transfixed by the sight of her. He’d been eager to answer the moon’s call tonight, to find out more about the manor and the maiden whose beauty stirred him. And there she was, lying amidst the leaves with tear-stained cheeks and her hair in glorious disarray. At first, he’d thought she was injured and instinctively began to rush to her aid. Then he realized what she was doing. His cock popped free of its fur-covered sheath while he watched her hand squeeze a luscious, full breast. The scent of her desire caught in his nostrils, and need pushed him forward. Then his paw snapped a twig, and he froze. She gasped at the sight of him, and the musk of her arousal became the acrid tang of fear. Thinking quickly, Jarrod lowered his body to the ground and put his head down on his paws. Surely she wouldn’t interpret this as an intention to harm her. It also concealed the stiff erection she’d given him. She remained still, and soon he lifted his head a bit and used his paws to inch himself closer to her. He crawled forward, halted, then crawled forward again until finally he was close enough to nuzzle her skirts. The girl blinked. “You’re a strange wolf,” she said. She reached a cautious hand out and he sniffed it, enamored with her lavender scent. He offered his head and she stroked it. “It seems you are more in need of a friend than supper tonight.” She peered more closely at him. “You know, I saw a wolf just like you

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this morning.” He remembered her magnificent bare breasts, and when he broke into a wolf grin she gasped. “Are you smiling? Perhaps it was you I saw.” He glanced upward, as if in innocence. “Do you understand me? Father always said animals understand a good deal more than they let on. In that case, I should tell you it’s not polite to watch ladies during their baths.” Jarrod lowered his head with a contrite whimper. He was beginning to enjoy this game. “It’s all right. I was standing where I shouldn’t have been. We’re so far from town that we’re simply used to our privacy.” She stroked her thumb back and forth between his eyes, and his back leg began to twitch with the pleasure of it. “Ella?” Both their heads jerked, and Jarrod smelled the approaching male. She got to her feet, keeping a wary eye on him. “If you’re not intending to have me for supper, I must go. I’m in for trouble, I’m afraid. I didn’t even gather the berries I was sent out here for. It was too dark to see, and I fell, and...oh, why am I telling you?” He rose, stretched, and threw in a yawn for good measure. “Good night, wolf. Thank you for not eating me.” He was rock hard watching her go. Had he arrived a few minutes later, he may well have discovered the ripe maiden naked and writhing in self-pleasure. His timing needed work. Not that he had a right to such thoughts. And just who was that man, anyway? He uttered a soft growl and padded to a basket lying on its side nearby. He picked it up with his teeth, and then carried it to a tangle of berry bushes. He shifted to human form to regain the use of his hands, then crouched naked over the bush and hoped he wouldn’t catch his nuts in the bramble. The crown Prince of Frey was picking berries for a servant, when the only berries he truly wanted to pick had gone inside. He shifted back to the wolf and carried the basket to the rear

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door of the manor with his teeth, then set it down there and ran off before he could be seen. Oh, how Bernard would have loved knowing that Jarrod had done this. Unfortunately for his friend, this was one part of the tale Jarrod would not be recounting.

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Chapter 4 Jarrod came to a decision a few days later. “I have to go back.” Bernard frowned. “Why? The full moon is over.” “And I have no answers.” The wolf had come out again on the last night of the full moon, despite Jarrod’s efforts to prevent it by stroking himself off in the shower. He had theorized that relieving sexual tension might help. Fantasizing about finding Ella in the woods while in his human form had evoked three fevered orgasms, but nevertheless, Jarrod was naked and running through the underbrush soon after. Since sex hadn’t helped, this proved Bernard’s theory was wrong. Desire for a sexual mate wasn’t the answer. Perhaps something else was luring him to the manor. He hadn’t seen Ella that night, even after scratching at the back door and offering a soft howl. The basket of berries was gone, which gave him some stupid satisfaction. Nevertheless, the manor was still, and its windows were dark. Now, the moon was in wane and his wolf with it. He just wished he knew how to keep it that way. Jarrod sighed. “I even tried pleasuring myself. Nothing works.” “Thank you for that detail,” Bernard said. “I’m serious.” He leaned on the window ledge in his chambers. “Did you talk to your family? Bernard nodded. “It was difficult. They are reluctant to speak of such things since my brother was killed for bearing the curse.” “I understand. And I’m sorry I had to ask it of you.” “However, I did learn there are certain situations when the wolf

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may take control.” Jarrod perked up. “Such as?” “When the curse first manifests.” He shrugged. “I learned to control it then.” “Not at first. Nothing stopped your fever and shift on the initial full moon. You had to learn to control it gradually.” “Perhaps this is the same.” Bernard paused. “Maybe.” The prince pushed away from the window. “What aren’t you telling me?” “The other possible reasons are more compelling.” Jarrod folded his arms. “Such as?” “Certain death situations, for one. If a were perceives he or his mate is in serious jeopardy, the animal might react for protection and emerge without consent.” “As I’ve not been in any battles, I’d say we can rule that out. What else?” Bernard lifted his blue velvet cap, then tugged it back down. “As I’ve said, the mating instinct is strong.” “I cannot take a mate. Besides, I came upon the woman in a most compromising position and had no uncontrollable mating urge.” Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to admit otherwise. It would only encourage Bernard’s obsession with Jarrod taking a mate. “I didn’t say weres mate by force. You would be able to control yourself and woo her.” “Yet acting out the fantasy of mating with her failed to stop the change. Next theory.” Bernard rolled his eyes. “Self pleasure is hardly the same thing as claiming a mate.” “Next theory.” His friend sighed. “Well, it seems your thought does have some merit. Certain magics can force a shift.” “There! I knew it. Must be wolf instinct.” He rubbed his hands.

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“They have to be doing witchcraft in there. Perhaps full moon magic. That would explain the timing. I’ve got to get a better look at the manor.” “You’re under house arrest.” “Which has stopped me how?” Bernard straightened his tabard. “I’ll go.” “The wolf is anonymous. A palace guard poking around would raise too much attention.” “I’ll disguise myself. I can befriend Ella, gain her trust.” “No.” The sharp retort gained him a curious look. “My wolf senses are better suited to sniffing out any deceit.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll need to go during daylight.” Bernard’s brow shot up. “How would you manage that?” “I can blend in with the hounds while they run the yards for exercise.” “Great. How will you get back in?” Jarrod gave him a tight grin. A supply wagon delivered goods to the castle daily. Perhaps it could deliver a royal stowaway as well. “Security on the three o’clock wagon has been lax. I’m assigning you to personally check it when it comes to the delivery door.” “Sounds quite risky, Your Highness. Too risky.” “I’ll only need to go once or twice,” Jarrod said. “Just to see what’s really going on.” “And if nothing’s going on?” “Something has to be.” He paused. “Did your parents say how to stop the shift?” “In the case of magic, a reversal spell,” he said. “Excellent.” He paused and added, “And in the other cases? What works then?” Bernard sighed. “Nothing.” ****

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Jarrod’s plan worked better than expected. He stripped down behind the kennels and had Bernard stash his boots and cloak in a barrel near the delivery entrance. Extra tunics and breeches were hidden in an outcropping of boulders near the bridge where Jarrod smuggled himself aboard the wagon for the ride back. Not only was he pleased with his success, but he hadn’t been happier for quite some time. Running with the hounds brought back memories of the early days of his curse, when simple joys like racing the yard and wrestling the dogs incognito offered brief respite from the stresses of royal responsibility and supernatural misfortune. The dogs were not fooled by his furry disguise. They knew him by scent and accepted him as an alpha. Scaling the wall required a quick shift behind a massive courtyard tree, then back to the wolf before he tore through the woods, surprising plenty of squirrels and rabbits along the way. The first day he’d ventured out, he’d picked up Ella’s scent at the bank of a stream where she was scrubbing garments on a rock. He stood near the edge of the woods and chuffed softly to announce his presence. “Oh! Wolf,” she’d said. “You startled me. You have odd habits for a night creature.” He lay down beside her while she worked. She was inclined to talk when he was around, and he listened in hopes of hearing something that might offer a clue as to what drew him to the manor. He learned that the other house servant was Andre, and that Andre was also an accomplished hunter. Jarrod would need to use caution. He also learned that the ladies of the house were away for a visit at a duke’s summer home for ten days. Ella shooed him off when he tried to trot alongside for a peek inside the manor, so he was forced to return another time. He waited until both servants were outside, then shifted long enough to gain entrance. Starting with Ella’s room, he searched the manor for any witchy herbs, spell books, or magic implements. He found nothing.

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Perhaps the ladies had taken their witchcraft with them. He could either await their return, or continue visiting to see whether Ella might reveal something useful. The former would be the safer decision. He chose the latter. Two trips became four, and four became eight. The more he learned about Ella, the more he wanted to know. Her parents were deceased, and the house where she served was that of her estranged stepsisters, who required labor in exchange for her board. Yet she spoke of them and Andre kindly. Jarrod had watched Andre and disliked the looks he gave Ella when her back was turned. Each trip he found it more difficult to leave, knowing the two of them were alone together in the manor. On the ninth day, Bernard shook his head the moment he saw the prince headed his way. “Do you not recall you have a meeting with your father, then afterward, you are to go riding with Count Everett?” Jarrod scowled. “Since when does a prince not have control over his own appointments?” A brow rose. “Since birth. And your lack of visibility of late has met with speculation.” Annoyed, the prince resumed palace socialization for a few days, by which time his wolf howled for a run. He was eager to lounge near a bubbling stream, the scent of lavender in the air. After his temporarily curtailed freedom, Jarrod couldn’t wait to stretch his wolf legs. Besides, he wanted to see whether the sisters had returned. The fact that it was Ella’s smile and rounded hips he envisioned while stripping down had nothing to do with his haste. He leaped into the air as a human, but came down on all fours to race the hounds to the wall.

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Chapter 5 Ella carried a basket of vegetables to the stream, the sun bathing her forehead with sweat. With the mistresses away, she had time to herself, time she preferred to spend outdoors. She felt awkward being alone with Andre in the house, for one thing. Plus, she enjoyed having the company of a new friend. The wolf had terrified her at first, but she had found that he was tame and intelligent. He’d surprised her by showing up often. He would stay awhile, then trot away promptly when the distant chimes of the castle clock tower chimed two. “You’re such a strange wolf,” she would say. He had an uncanny sense of time, yet the nocturnal being seemed to have his days and nights mixed up. He understood her, and his reactions seemed human at times. Still, he entertained himself with animal things, like snapping at dragonflies, catching fish, and sniffing Ella’s hair. He liked having his head and back rubbed. Her father’s dogs enjoyed belly rubs, Wolf only tolerated brief touches there before rolling away. She’d even taken to bringing lunch to share, surprised that he enjoyed fruits, bread, cheese, and the occasional vegetable. Meats she avoided, figuring it was wiser not to get him thinking about such delicacies. Still, at times when the mood struck, he would manage to snare a fish in his jaws, and he’d smile and wag his tail at her as though quite pleased with himself. He was far too powerful and independent for her to consider him a pet, but she’d come to look forward to his visits. Then, he’d stopped coming. She was disappointed at first, then scared for him when days went by with no sign. So when she saw him standing at the grassy bank

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waiting for her, her heart gave a silly little flip. “Wolf!” She set her basket down by the stream. “I’m happy you found your way back.” The dog wagged his tail in response, then went over and sniffed at the basket. He gave her a curious look, and then sneezed. She laughed. “Serves you right for poking around without asking. Mustard greens and garlic probably aren’t wolf favorites.” His flanks huffed out in a sigh. Then he sat beside her. “I would have brought lunch if I’d known you were coming. I imagine you’ve been quite busy lately, chasing rabbits and pretty girl wolves.” His head cocked at an angle for a moment. Then he opened his mouth in what she could almost interpret as a laugh, with his tongue lolled out and his eyes almost crossed. She laughed and scratched his head. “I’ve missed you, you strange beast. I don’t think I’ve laughed since you were here last.” She sat down with her back against a tree. Wolf lay close to her feet. “I envy you,” she said, looking out at the bubbling stream. “You can go where you want, chase what you want. I don’t even know what I should be chasing.” She kicked off her gardening clogs and rubbed her calf. “Sometimes I think I’ll be stuck here forever. I’ll never have adventures like running through the woods, snapping at dragonflies, finding a mate.” She sighed, and he laid his head on her feet. “I used to daydream a handsome man would come along and woo me. We would talk for hours, and he would be so romantic. Instead, I have a wolf to talk to. No slight intended,” she added quickly. “As wolves go, you are quite a fetching catch. Still, I guess I shouldn’t even bother saving myself for a man who doesn’t exist. Maybe I should go chase tails like you handsome boy wolves do.” He let out a warning growl. She smiled. “You’re right. That’s not fit talk for mixed company. I just like to take out my old wishes sometimes, have a look at them again to see whether they need to be kept.”

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The wolf gave her a curious look and she fell silent. As she stroked his soft pelt, she looked out over the water and decided she was right. Some dreams did more harm than good when people hung onto them. **** “You’re not serious.” Bernard stood behind the prince, who was busy engaging in an activity he rarely bothered with. He stared at himself in a gilt mirror, preening and checking his profile this way and that. His skin was smooth-shaven over the angular lines of his jaw. His hair fell in dark waves, and his eyes held in their green depths a single purpose. He wore black breeches and a green velvet tunic with the royal crest embroidered near the shoulder, where it was easily enough hidden by his cloak. “There’s nothing more serious than a man taking a ride in the woods.” “There is when he is restricted to the palace, yet planning to visit a woman he claims to have no interest in.” He turned away from his reflection. “I never said I had no interest. Just that Ella is not the reason I visit the manor.” Bernard followed the prince as he grabbed his cloak and belt pouch. “Then why take an even more foolish risk just to be charming?” “She has been a friend to me. I would like to return that favor.” “I’m your friend, too, but I don’t see you sneaking out to sweep me off my feet.” He threw him a snide look. “And no, that was not an invitation.” Jarrod laughed. “I just want to help her. I don’t want her to see her throw away dreams of romance.” Bernard grunted. “Perhaps you don’t want to see her throw away her purity to another man.”

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“Let her bed half the province, for all I care. I’d just not see her do so out of hopelessness. Some harmless flirtation will restore her faith.” “And when you’re gone, you won’t care who she climbs on top of to soothe her disappointment?” Irritation poked at his good mood. “Why does it matter to you? Surely you don’t care who she beds.” “I care that you might get caught, and that I might get caught aiding you.” “Father is visiting the Duke of Marshton, and the staff is busy preparing for some sort of event he’s planning. No one will notice my absence.” He turned with a flourish. “There. How do I look?” “Like someone about to get his royal ass in trouble.” “Thanks for your continued honesty. Did you do as instructed with Draegon?” Bernard took off his cap, which seemed to annoy him in direct proportion to how much the prince was annoying him. “The Ladies Wilkershin allowed him to be hitched to their team.” “Near the rear, I hope. He is bound to be recognized if he is in the lead.” “Yes.” “Good.” He slapped Bernard on the shoulder. “Now pretend for once that I’m not doing something stupid, and let’s go.” The two headed to court in search of his escape hatch. He spotted the signature bright red hair of Ladies Nicodema and Francesca Wilkershin, who were whispering to one another from behind their fans. Their finery included voluminous silk skirts that were much larger than the current style. Perfect. They offered deep curtsies as he approached. “Your Royal Highness,” they said in unison. “Ladies,” he said. “I trust you are well?” “Exquisite, now that you are here,” said Francesca, the younger. She batted her dark lashes and lowered her voice. “We are ready to

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depart at your wish.” He nodded. “Then I shall see you off.” Bernard accompanied them to a secluded hall and stood watch. “Again let me voice my appreciation for your aid,” Jarrod said to Nicodema, “but my regret for how we must go about it.” “Your Highness,” she said, fanning herself faster, “there’s not a lady in the kingdom who doesn’t pray day and night for what you’re about to do.” Francesca giggled. Nicodema lifted her massive gown a bit, and with a final glance around to ensure privacy, the prince dropped to his knees and disappeared beneath her skirts. He slid his hands up through all manner of undergarments and gripped her wide hips to keep his place. Crouched in the humid darkness and waddling like a duck, he followed her lead as they made slow passage out of the castle to an awaiting carriage. He climbed inside along with the women and slid out from under the suffocating fabric with a smile. “I’m in your debt and again apologize for my uncouth methods.” His body jerked as the carriage set in motion. “You said it was of vast importance,” Francesca said. “Quite so.” He shot them a conspiratorial look. “I’m on a top secret mission.” Nicodema’s eyes flew wide. “For the king’s birthday next month?” “That must be it!” Francesca said. “He’s off to buy a gift for His Majesty.” He winked. “You make very astute observations.” The horses took them to the nearest isolated inroad. There Jarrod hopped out while Draegon, who tossed his head and stamped his feet in obvious displeasure over having been hitched to a team, was unharnessed. The prince offered a gracious bow and a kiss to the back of each ladies’ hand, and finally rode off. On the way, he thought of Ella. It bothered him more than he cared to admit that she was so disillusioned about her life that she was

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thinking of spoiling herself. While he’d lain at her feet listening to her sad lament, he decided to show her that romance could happen to anyone, anywhere. Even to a servant girl in the woods. He secured Draegon to a tree not far from the stream and made his way to the grassy bank. When he spotted her through the trees, his heart almost stopped. Ella’s damp gown hung on the branch of the tree where they always sat, and there was just a brief flash of bare, round flesh as her backside disappeared under the shift she dropped over her head. Had he arrived a few minutes sooner, he apparently would have seen her bathing naked in the stream. His timing really did need work. He felt propelled toward the sight of her, and in so doing, his boots crunched through underbrush. “Is that you, Wolf? I’ve made us a picnic...” her voice trailed off with a gasp when she glanced up and saw him. “I like picnics,” he said, watching a kaleidoscope of emotions churn in her wide blue eyes. She straightened and grabbed for her gown. “Who are you?” “My name is Jarrod. Forgive me for intruding. It appears you await someone special. A beau, perhaps?” “How rude to assume I’m meeting a man in my underclothes,” she said, turning away to tug her gown over her head. “Beg pardon. You called me Wolf. I assumed he must be one of your suitors.” She hurriedly tied the lace of her bodice. “You presume me to have many suitors?” “With beauty such as yours, I’d be shocked to hear otherwise.” She folded her arms beneath her full breasts. “Then consider yourself shocked. Please go. You’re trespassing near private land.” “These woods are owned by the king.” “And the stretch beyond is granted to a noble family. So do watch your step.” “I’ve traveled a while,” he said, coming closer. “Would you not

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offer to share a drink?” She hesitated but retrieved a leather water skin, her hands quivering. His fingers deliberately brushed hers as he took it. He drank deep, then handed it back. “You are most kind. Many thanks. What is your name?” “Ella.” She hugged the skin to her. “And I’m quite busy.” He stepped closer. “Busy waiting for romance?” She glared. “I’m not waiting for romance.” “Then that is a tragedy for every male in the province. So who is this Wolf that you prepare picnics for in your undergarments?” He glanced at the pout of her lips, and his breath quickened when she licked them. “He is a friend.” She paused. “My best friend.” Something in the words unhinged him, and a stirring began in his loins. Without taking his gaze off her, he plucked the water skin from her hands and dropped it carefully on the ground. “Don’t you believe in romance?” She stepped back. “I believe it isn’t destined for everyone.” “Surely it is destined for one as lovely as you.” “I do not think so.” “Then what would you say if I asked you to kiss me?” Her mouth gaped. “I would say that you’re a most presumptuous stranger.” “What if I’m not a stranger?” She frowned. “You are. I don’t know you.” “No?” He drew himself up to his full stature. “What if I said, ‘Bow to your prince?’ Would you know me then?” He pulled aside his cloak, revealing the royal crest embroidered beneath. Her liquid blue eyes flew wide open, and she dropped to her knees. “A thousand pardons, Your Highness,” she said. “Forgive me for not recognizing you.” He grinned. “I find it rather refreshing, actually.” “It’s just, so many were named Jarrod since your birth.” She

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glanced up, her gaze raking over him. “And purple is the customary color for a royal.” “Yes, well, I’m not known for doing what is customary.” Such as allowing Ella to rise. He should ask her to do so, but it was just too irresistible to see their positions reversed. Jarrod crouched before her. “What, then, do you say when your prince asks to kiss you?” She flushed a sexy pink. “I would not dare disobey a royal request.” His eyes fell to her lips, and he leaned close to claim them. She let out a faint gasp. Despite her brave words, she shrank back away from him. He lifted her chin. “Are you certain of that?” “Yes,” she whispered. Just one kiss. He could grant her that much to restore her faith. Tasting her lips was the biggest, most glorious mistake he’d made in a long history of mistakes. Her sigh of contentment surged straight to his already stiff cock and he groaned. He drew her against him, stroking her long hair and then running his hands lower to cup the rapid rise and fall of her breast. When his tongue discovered hers, she closed her eyes and moaned, an erotic and needful sound. Her hand slid into his hair. Just one kiss, he’d told himself. He’d merely failed to realize how long one kiss could last or what it would do to him. He pulled her down, and she did not refuse him. In fact, she caught him completely off guard by sliding a hand down his stomach to grope his aching cock. Her eyes widened, and he knew why. His endowment was large to start with, and right now he was harder than he’d ever been in his life. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, enchanted to taste summer and passion. Her sweet breath and lush curves fired a desperate need inside him that was fast spiraling out of control. He pushed her skirts up until he could snake a hand underneath.

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When his fingers brushed satiny curls, she cried out. The feel of slick, hot labia unleashed a growl from him that wasn’t entirely human, and he sought Ella’s reaction to it. Her eyes were closed, and she wriggled her hips against his fingers. Inflamed by her passion, he slipped a finger inside her. God, she was wet for him. He could feel the resistance proving her purity and suddenly, nothing on earth mattered more to him than being the one to breach that barrier and make her his. The base of his spine flared with needle pricks that signaled an impending change. He had to stop this now. His lips were still pressed to hers, so it was still technically one kiss. But it could not be more than that, not ever. Now that he understood her effect on him, he had to summon up the will to leave, and then never be alone with her again. He slid a second finger inside her, and she cried out. His body began an odd vibration. Stop, he told himself. Stop now. “Stop,” Ella said, breathless. She pulled away, her lips swollen from his kiss. “I can’t.” He blinked, struggling to regain control. When he caught her scent on his fingers, however, his inner wolf snarled with the demand to fuck her. “Please,” she said, sitting up. “I can’t let you touch me.” He cleared his throat. “I think it’s a bit late for that.” She brushed herself off furiously, as if to rid herself of his touch rather than the bits of leaves and grass clinging to her gown. He frowned while she struggled to stand, even more so when she yanked back at his offer to help her. “I can do it myself.” Jarrod folded his arms. “I take it a royal kiss is not worth as much as I had hoped.” She finger-combed leaves from her shining locks. “I am not a common tart you can sully on a whim. Or does the royal family like to

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order women into their beds?” His mouth fell open. Few would dare show such insolence to a royal, though he had to admit his guilt in provoking her disobedience. He had no business giving into his lust in the first place. He bowed. “Forgive me. I got carried away by your immense beauty.” Ella’s reply was cut off by the sound of hooves near the manor.. After what sounded like a small gasp of alarm, she gave a small curtsy and then pushed past him. “Good-bye.” “Wait.” He grabbed her arm. “You haven’t forgiven me yet.” “I cannot. Let go.” “Then may I call on you later to earn your clemency?” “No! Please, I beg you. Do not tell them I was with you.” She raced away, holding her skirts aloft to hasten her escape. Somehow, she’d just made him feel as though he was the servant, and she’d just given him a royal send off.

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Chapter 6 Ella willed her feet to run faster. Her heart, which had begun hammering the moment she’d first seen the prince’s fiery emerald stare, was skipping so many beats she thought she might faint. How could she have kissed a stranger? Even a muscled, unbelievably gorgeous stranger who also happened to be a prince. She’d acted shamefully, like a sex-starved trollop, when all he’d wanted was a simple kiss. He smelled of expensive oils, yet primal passions, and she had instantly fallen for him. Her boldness had shocked her, as had his endowment, and she’d lost control of herself. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Oh, what must he think of her? Thank the heavens she’d regained her senses, though even now her body begged her to go back to him. Even if such marked her as a whore. When she rushed in the doorway of the manor, the mistresses were already unbuttoning their travel coats and pulling off their hats. “Oh, Ella,” Etianna said, “there you are.” Her mistress was much happier than normal, and as Ella drew near, she smelled the aroma of liquor. She curtsied. “Welcome back, mistresses.” Faye hitched her skirt up in order to wriggle off her knit hose. “Where have you been?” “Doing the wash.” Faye glanced at her empty hands. “What wash?” Her eyes widened. “I left it by the stream when I heard the coach pull up. Did you have a pleasant time?” “Very,” Etianna replied. “The duke throws amazing parties.”

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“With amazing male guests,” Faye added. “I’m surprised I could sit down for the trip back.” Etianna nodded. “The women were exquisite as well. I found I rather enjoyed their attentions.” Coins rattled when she shook her silk purse. “Quite a productive trip, I should say.” She eyed Ella up and down. “You look radiant. The outdoors seems to agree with you, Ella.” Her cheeks burned as she considered the real reason she seemed to be glowing. “Thank you, milady.” “Help me get this dress off.” “Shall we go upstairs?” Ella asked. “No. Now.” “Great idea,” Faye said. “It’s been two days. Andre, you may undress me as well.” Ella assisted with laces and hooks until Etianna stood naked. “You really do look intriguing, I must say.” She ran a hand along Ella’s long curls then pulled something away with a frown. “Despite the fact that you seem to have brought the outdoors in with you.” She held up a leaf and Ella felt her blush go red hot. “My hair must have caught on a bush when I was bending over the stream.” A rather dangerous grin appeared on the mistress’s face, and she pushed Ella backward until the backs of her legs brushed against an oversized chaise. “Take off your dress,” Etianna said. A shiver rushed through her at the tone. It unsettled Ella to have her drunken mistress pay her such attention, and her fingers shook while she worked her laces. When she was rid of the garment, Etianna pushed her down until she reclined on the chaise, then climbed on top of her until her breasts hung free over Ella’s face. She used her knee to push Ella’s thighs apart, and then settled between them the way Ella saw men position themselves for fucking. The way Jarrod might have been doing right now, had she not resisted and run away. The thought tingled in her abdomen. Etianna began to move her hips, rubbing her furry mound against

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Ella’s in a slow, deliberate motion. Ella sucked in a breath at the feel of her mistress’s pussy pushing against her clit, which, after the prince’s touch, throbbed with insistence. “Oh,” Ella said, her stomach fluttering at the sensation. “Oh is right,” Etianna said, her breath tickling Ella’s ear. “Feels good, does it not?” “Yes, mistress,” Ella said, her voice breathless. All she could picture was Prince Jarrod and the way he’d thrust his tongue between her lips while his hands explored her. Without thinking, she gripped Etianna’s upper arms and pushed her hips harder. The woman gasped. “You really want this, don’t you?” Ella tried to stop writhing, but her body revolted. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take my liberties with you.” “But you do.” Etianna pulled back a bit. “You want liberties. And I will give them to you, but just a small taste. You must hold back while I find my climax.” A naughty tingle snaked down Ella’s spine. “Yes, mistress.” The pleasure swirling inside her began to build at the feel of Etianna’s nipples gently brushing her own and their clits stimulating one another. She whimpered a sigh of delight and tilted her head back. Jarrod ignited a sexual fire within her, and now it was raging to be released. She saw his piercing green eyes, imagined him claiming her beneath the tree. “God, look at her,” Faye said. “She’s mad with lust. What a vixen she’ll be once she’s learned to take a man inside her.” Faye was on the floor now, bouncing up and down on Andre’s cock. Ella startled at Andre’s intense stare. His eyes were glazed with curious fascination, as though he’d never seen Ella before. His gaze dipped to her breasts, then his hands reached for Faye’s. The thought that she was not the only one dreaming of other lovers sent a stab of awkward tension through her. Etianna’s tongue flicked over Ella’s nipple, and the shock of it

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sent Ella’s back arching up. How delicious to feel the squirm of wet flesh again. Need coiled hot and low in her abdomen while her mistress tongued first one nipple, then the other until Ella thought she might go insane. Her imagination ran free until she was on her back again in that thicket of leaves. There, she gave in to His Highness, allowed him to do all the things she longed to experience. Oh, if only she hadn’t refused him. Why had she not given in? The thought of his lovemaking sent her body spiraling toward sexual frenzy. She cried out, and her fingers dug hard into Etianna’s arms while she ground herself shamelessly against the loins of her imaginary royal lover. “That’s enough, Ella.” She ignored the command, too lost in the power Jarrod held over her sex. Ella spread her thighs wide and grabbed the woman’s round, ripe ass with both hands. She was so close, so ready to explode. Their nether lips slid with maddening friction as she wriggled in frantic abandon. She pictured the prince looming over her, his dark hair hanging down while he pumped his hips and spoke breathless words of devotion to her. Just as she felt herself about to slip over the edge, Etianna bit down on Ella’s shoulder. The pain almost sent Ella the rest of the way to heaven, but Etianna thrust away hard to free herself. The peak of climax fell away immediately, and with a whimper Ella opened her eyes. Etianna’s were dark and fiery. “I said, enough.” Her words were shaky, coming on ragged breaths. “I’m sorry, milady. I was wrong to act so greedy.” Etianna rose. “I offered you a taste, and you tried to hoard the buffet. You have no discipline and must be taught a lesson. Get up.” She did as commanded, avoiding the stares of Faye and Andre, who were still copulating, but not as fiercely. “Into the chains.” Ella hurried to position herself and Etianna clamped the manacles

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around her wrists. Ella’s already pounding heart quickened when the mistress removed the drapery tiebacks, then returned. “Spread your legs.” A cord was tied around each ankle then secured to nearby furnishings. “There. Now you have no way to stimulate yourself while you watch.” Etianna approached Andre, whose eyes were still glued to Ella. Her cheeks burned with shame. Andre never lost control. The times he was whipped or punished for lack of discipline were for little more than show. Etianna lowered her pussy over his face and shot Ella a gloating look. “Too bad you don’t know what this feels like. Oh, wait. You do know, don’t you?” She flicked out her tongue. “You know exactly what you’re missing.” Ella watched Andre’s mouth work magic over Etianna’s sex while Faye’s ass cheeks slapped audibly against Andre’s thighs. Soon the room was filled with moans, slaps, and the musky smell of sex. Ella twisted in her chains, her body begging for Jarrod’s wild, fevered touch. She tried not to think of him, but soon the ache of sexual frustration set into her groin. Then she heard a request from Andre that he rarely ever made. “Milady,” he said, his voice ragged. “May I be granted my moment?” Etianna growled. “No. Neither of you will climax tonight.” Ella felt a twinge of sympathy but knew Andre would take it in stride. She somehow managed to detach herself from the proceedings before the two women screamed out their releases. She was congratulating herself for regaining restraint when she noticed Andre having trouble getting to his feet. She stifled a gasp when she saw his organ was swollen and purple. When he noticed her staring, he shot her a harsh look and turned away. With some difficulty, he limped from the room.

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“I think poor Andre is past his limit,” Faye said while Etianna released Ella. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “His cock looks like an eggplant.” “Andre is a fine, disciplined servant,” Etianna replied, shooting Ella a hard look. “Unlike some around here.” Faye fluffed her hair. “If a man holds off too long it can be dangerous. Ned Tonston got his pecker so stiff the doc had to cut it off.” Ella’s eyes flew wide. “Can that really happen?” “Hush,” Etianna said. “Andre has far better control than Ned.” Faye rubbed her breasts. “Maybe I should give him relief, just to be safe.” “You’ll do nothing of the sort. I have special plans for him. Until then, the only relief he needs is an icepack. Trust me, he lives to save up that release.” Etianna gripped Ella’s shoulders. “Because an orgasm you’ve been denied time and again is a heaven that threatens never to end when it is finally granted. You may sometimes think me cruel, but I’m offering you the greatest kindness.” Faye clucked her tongue. “Well, Andre won’t have any heavenly orgasm if his cock gets cut off.” “He’s no untried boy. He has proper control.” “If you say so.” Ella’s heart pounded while she attended the women. What if Faye was right? Guilt stabbed at her. It had been her fault. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her during her blatant sexual rebellion. Maybe he’d secretly gotten off on her loss of control. And Etianna wouldn’t have denied his request were she not feeling so peevish over Ella’s disobedience. As soon as she could manage, she slipped away to Andre’s room. It was forbidden for her to enter, but Faye’s warning kept playing in her head. “Andre,” she whispered, “it’s me.”

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There was a pause, then a strained reply. “Not now, Ella.” “Yes, now.” “Go away.” She opened the door with a creak and slipped inside. Andre sat in an old rocker, his shirt bundled up and pressed to the crotch of his breeches. A small oil lamp provided enough light to see his clenched jaw and the obvious pain in his expression. Sweat glistened on his brow and dampened salt-and-pepper locks. “Have you ice in that tunic, I hope?” His gaze speared her with contempt. “You shouldn’t be here.” “I wanted to see how you fare.” “Great. Now go.” “Don’t be so stubborn. I’ve gone through this too, you know.” He laughed. “Really?” With great difficulty, he rose. “Forgive me, but I’ve seen you naked. I believe you lack the proper equipment for what I suffer.” “I just mean, I feel pain when release is denied. One time I even...” He cut her off by pulling the tunic away. She sucked in a breath at the size of the huge bulge in his undone trousers. “God, Andre, I’m sorry.” He replaced his makeshift ice bag with a wince. “It happens. Though never this bad.” “You’re even more swollen now.” He glared. “I’m aware of that, thank you.” “You have to do something.” “I serve the mistresses’ wishes, not my own.” She fisted her hips. “And how well will you serve our mistresses if you cannot walk?” He sat back down carefully. “If you came here to cheer me up, you’re doing a poor job of it.” “I came here to help.” He snorted at her comment, but she ignored him and continued. “You are the most disciplined of servants. But if

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you don’t act now, your organ could stay this way, and a doctor will have to cut it off.” Anger roiled inside her anew. “The mistresses will not intervene. Etianna is most stubborn.” “Hush your lips, woman,” he said, his tone harsh. “Or you’ll face something far worse than blue balls.” “As will you, if you do not relieve your erection.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I cannot.” She sighed. “If you will not help yourself, I will.” He tightened the bag against him. “You would face harsh punishment for touching me. Sold, perhaps, or cast into the woods. Haven’t you had trouble enough tonight?” “I won’t be stroking your cock. You will.” He folded his arms. “They won’t allow it.” “You have no choice.” With that, she stepped forward and lifted the front of her skirt to expose her bare sex. He tried to look everywhere else, but when she reached a shaking hand to stroke the hair between her thighs, his eyes fastened on the sight. She saw his Adam’s apple bob with a hard swallow. His voice dropped to a ragged whisper while she combed her fingers through her blonde curls. “No, Ella. Being found in my room would bring punishment enough. Fondling yourself while here would be far worse—for us both.” She ignored him, reveling in the feel of her own sex. Never before had she dared to stroke herself, though she’d come close the night she’d encountered the wolf. But her wanton lust tonight was in part responsible for his current agony. She was betting he couldn’t resist the sight of her pleasuring herself. And she was right. When a tiny whimper escaped her, he shut his eyes, grimacing in what appeared to be increased pain. He pushed the ice bag aside with an angry growl and reached inside his pants. Watching him give in and handle himself sent a stab of pleasure through her, and she slipped a finger between her thighs to find her labia slick and hot and

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swelling with need. Oh, she would not disobey to the point of release, but she would give Andre enough of a show to ensure he would. She imagined that her hands were Jarrod’s, and her fevered touch soon had her thighs quivering and weak. She clutched her skirt tighter, fisting it in her sweaty palm while she tried not to focus on the intense longing building within her. The feel of her own flesh was such an enigma, rubbery smooth in parts and ridged in others. She dipped a cautious finger inside. She was hot and wet. What would the prince’s cock feel like inside her? Meanwhile, Andre’s hand worked faster and he grit his teeth. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and before long, she saw him tense up. Gruff sounds began in his throat. At the moment of his release, he threw himself back in the chair and cried out. She abandoned her selfexploration and rushed forward to slap a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound of anguished relief that lasted for some time before he finally relaxed. “Better?” she asked. He glared at her. “No.” “You still suffer?” “Yes, from my failure. My lack of discipline.” “Stop berating yourself. It had to be done.” “They’ll find out, you know.” He glanced down at the stain spreading on his breeches. Still, she was gratified to note that his massive erection was beginning to ebb. “Give them to me,” she said. “I’ll scrub them out, and they’ll be none the wiser.” “You’ve done enough,” he said, his voice spiked with a hard edge. “I’ll not have you washing out the seed of my shame as well.” “Don’t be ridiculous. Laundry is my task. Besides, you saw me in my own shame tonight. We’re even. Now, hand them over.” He peeled them off and scowled at her. “One of these days, your compassion and rebellious nature will get you into real trouble.” She took the trousers and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

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Ella opened his door and crept back into the hall, feeling quite satisfied with her humanitarian efforts. That is, until she bumped right into a dour-faced Etianna.

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Chapter 7 She’d rejected him. Jarrod paced back and forth, a pastime he was getting far too familiar with. When he was the wolf, Ella was welcoming and happy to see him. He was woman’s best friend. Then he’d stupidly decided to come to her as a man. As a prince, even. Stop. I can’t let you touch me. He whirled around and plopped down at the base of the tree where he’d kissed her. She’d responded to him, damn it, quite passionately. Enough to where he hadn’t gone back to the castle as he should have long ago. He stayed here, hoping for her return even though he knew she would not come back. And for what? Something he couldn’t risk. The utter power her touch unleashed would inflame him until he made her his in a very dangerous, eternal sense. So why had he spent almost two hours pacing around the tree he’d tried to claim her against? Do not tell them I was with you. Jarrod stood, brushing his cloak. His real reason for visiting the manor wasn’t to fret about Ella’s feelings. He’d set out to see whether magic was forcing his wolf to the surface. Now that the ladies of the household had presumably returned, it was time to find out. Then there would be no need to return. When he sought the wolf this time, it lunged forward, and hot needles erupted through his skin and out into a stinging shower of fur. Then he stalked up to the manor, almost surprised to see movement through the windows inside. He paused several feet away, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then he froze, the hairs on his

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scruff rising stiff. Ella was on all fours, her dress pulled up over her back to expose her bare ass. A woman stood off to the side watching as another stood behind Ella with some kind of leather strap. Jarrod’s lip curled back over his fangs. Ella was being beaten by her mistress. He’d gotten it wrong. He hadn’t been drawn to this place by magic. He’d been responding to her distress. His unconscious growl was evidently loud enough for the women inside to hear, as their heads snapped toward the sound. “What is it?” He heard a red-haired woman whisper. “I think it’s a wolf,” the darker one replied. He shifted his gaze to Ella. She was on all fours, eying him with question. Her dress slipped down to reveal a creamy shoulder and a round, full breast. Despite her peril and the cruel treatment he’d just witnessed, the sight of her in mating position stirred something beyond an instinct to protect her. He felt his cock lengthen as he pictured himself behind her, thrusting deep in her heat. But now was not the time for sexual urges. She needed saving, not ravishing. “Why does it stare at us so?” one woman asked. “It looks angry.” “Wolves always look angry. Ella, call for Andre to fetch his bow and arrow.” “No!” Ella leapt to her feet. The woman stared at her. “What did you say?” Ella flicked a pleading glance out at him. “Forgive me,” he heard her say. “I just meant it would interrupt my deserved punishment. He is naught but an animal and cannot open doors. How can he harm us?” Jarrod’s lip snarled. What was she doing? Relinquishing herself in order to spare him? The darker woman lifted her chin. “Very well.” His fur bristled once again as she got down on hands and knees.

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She pulled up her skirts, again baring the luscious ass to the women behind her. The brunette raised her crop, bringing it down on already reddened flesh with a sharp snap. Ella cried out, and Jarrod howled in fury. “Why, he seems upset about Ella’s discipline,” he heard the redhead say. “That’s it,” the other snapped. “Send Andre after it.” “No, let me,” Ella said, pleading in her tone. “You?” There was laughter. “You aren’t strong enough to heft the huntsman’s bow, let alone aim it before the creature takes your head off.” “Yes, but I know that wolf.” Their brows rose. “On a first name basis, are you?” Ella rose again, smoothing her skirts. “We’re sort of friends.” More laughter ensued and she frowned. “Why else do you suppose he seems distraught by your treatment of me?” The dark woman stepped forward. “Our treatment? Have you something to say about it?” Jarrod surely did, but Ella shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, milady. I get what I deserve and am thankful for it. But an animal cannot understand the distinction.” Had these bitches bestowed such brutality that Ella truly believed it was deserved? Saliva dripped from bared fangs he wished he could sink into those who dared to harm his beloved. He sniffed in shock. Had he just thought beloved? His heart beat strongly behind his furred breastbone and he knew it was true. He hadn’t come to this part of the woods to uncover dark magic. Ella was the magic that drew him. He’d fallen in love. The door popped open, and she stepped out against the protests of the other women. “Wolf,” she said, approaching with caution. “Fine night to finally remember you are a nocturnal creature.” He wanted to shift, grab her, and race off. Instead, he took a step

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forward and whimpered. “It’s all right. I’m fine.” She knelt on the porch, and he padded toward her. He leaned into Ella and she stroked his coat with a touch that both soothed and burned. His nose sought the tang of fear, and he was curious to find none. “You shouldn’t peek into people’s windows. It’s not polite, and folks might not be as friendly to you as I am. You could get hurt.” He gave her a look of wolfish indignation and snorted. “I mean it,” she said. “Someone might shoot you or...” she sighed. “Oh, this is all my fault. I should never have let you get so comfortable with humans. Now you’ll think all of us are fair game for table scraps and belly rubs.” The door creaked open. “Ella,” a harsh voice spat. “Get rid of it, or Andre will.” Jarrod peeled back his lip and snarled at the wretched bitch poking a hooked nose out the door. Ella gasped and shook a finger at him. “Stop that.” Ella stroked his head, rubbing the spot between his eyes that made his rear leg—and other parts of him—twitch. “Please,” she whispered. “You have to go.” When he made no move to leave, she pressed her lips to his muzzle. “Don’t worry about me.” His heartbeat faltered. This time, she’d kissed him. “Do you know how I’d mourn if you got shot because of me? And you’re getting me in more trouble the longer you stay here.” That thought registered with him. He hesitated, then leaned in and gave her cheek a gentle lick. He shivered beneath his warm coat. With a final snort-growl at the door, he turned and trotted away into the woods. After he heard the door click shut, he crept around to the rear of the manor, sniffing for any sign of the huntsman. The windows here were higher and he could not see inside. He rose on his hindquarters, balancing his forepaws on the ledge with caution to avoid the scratch of his toenails. The two bitch sisters had their backs to him, and Ella stood facing

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them. “I must say, I am impressed,” the darker wench said. “I was skeptical about you and that wolf.” “Yes,” the squat-shaped redhead said. “I was all aquiver when the animal came right up and put his head against your breast.” “It was rather stimulating,” the other said. Stimulating? He wrinkled his nose. Odd choice of words. “In fact,” she went on, “I found it so arousing that I’ve changed my mind about tonight.” She paused. “Andre?” Arousing. Now there was a word he couldn’t likely misconstrue. What the blazes? “I’m not to receive my punishment, then?” It had to have been his imagination that Ella actually sounded disappointed. “One of an entirely different sort. Disrobe.” To Jarrod’s shock, Ella’s hands went to the ties at the front of her bodice. To obey without question was the mark of a good servant, but to undress in the main living chambers? When she shrugged off her gown, he couldn’t help but stare in fascination. God, she was perfect. His phallus stiffened. Her skin was satin and cream, her belly flat and her hips lush. She was captivating beyond compare, and his blood heated with the urge to claim her. The animal raged, trying to wrest the last vestiges of his control. Jarrod dropped down from the ledge, staggering backwards as feral blood pounded in his veins. The urge to howl and take her as his prize was overpowering, and he fell to the dirt and placed his forepaws over his snout to restrain himself. She could never be his, even if she had wanted him. Yet the burning need to drive himself inside her pounded in his veins and stood his fur on end. He rolled in the cool dirt to try and rid himself of the unbearable sensation. He had to get out of here, put some distance between him and the manor. There was no use torturing himself with the sight of the woman he loved, but could never make love to.

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He rose, trying to ignore the gnawing ache while he shook dirt off his fur. He couldn’t do this. He had to leave and never come back. First, he would make certain that no dire harm was about to come to her. **** A shiver of unease went through Ella as she watched Etianna move in a slow circle around Andre, who stood before them naked. “While I am most displeased with your disobedience,” Etianna said, “I am aware there were certain reasons for it. I’m not completely without a heart, you know.” Faye let out a skeptical snort. “In fact,” she went on, “Because of your predicament, I’ve decided to grant you a release tonight.” Andre tensed a bit. “But milady, I’ve already had one.” “Just the same,” she said, “I want to make sure you stay fit. How long has it been since your last orgasm? Two months?” “Four, milady.” Faye gasped in shock. “No wonder the poor man got himself the blue balls.” “We’ll fix that tonight. But first, I’d like a small demonstration of your restraint.” He looked straight ahead where Ella stood, yet managed to avoid her gaze entirely. “Anything you say, milady.” Etianna’s slender arms reached around in front of him, sliding over his taut midsection. She purred into his ear. “You may not become erect until permitted.” Ella saw him tense slightly. “Yes, mistress.” Her experienced hands ran across his chest, then downward through the dark hair at the base of his flaccid cock. She teased his balls, kneading them lightly in her palm and stroking the wrinkled sac. Then she circled his member and pulled the spongy flesh up and down. His eyes became a bit unfocused, staring at something far off

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while she massaged his sex. But his breathing was slow and even, and his penis stayed soft and pliable in her hand. “There’s our veritable god of discipline,” Faye said, clapping in approval. Etianna nodded. “Does my touch feel good?” His breath hitched slightly. “Yes, milady.” “Then why isn’t your cock stiff and ready in my hand?” “Because it is not your wish.” “Exactly.” A seductive smile curved one side of her mouth. She dropped her hands. “What if I were to reward you with Ella?” Ella gasped in shock. The twitch in his cock was slight, but she noticed. Andre paused. “What is milady’s wish?” “My wish is that this randy vixen will have her flower plucked. Tonight.” Ella’s stomach churned. “You wish for me to bed her?” he said, a note of confusion evident in his voice. “Yes,” Etianna said with exaggerated patience. “I believe you’re familiar with the task of fucking?” When he hesitated, she rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. You lust for her, do you not?” “Well?” Faye said. “Don’t lie to your mistresses.” He met Ella’s wide-eyed stare. “From the first moment I saw her.” “Then you will be the first to have her,” Etianna said, and though the uncertainty remained in his eyes, his cock responded. “No doubt the first of many, considering her willful eagerness.” The pair stared at one another, Ella’s mouth drying into desert. As many times as she’d imagined losing her virginity, this was far from how she’d pictured it—especially now that she’d experienced her stolen moment with Jarrod. “Heavens, you’d think we were sending the two of them to the gallows,” Faye said. “Just be glad we didn’t take the duke up on his

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offer, Ella. He’d have paid a great deal to see to your deflowering personally.” She wanted to remind her stepsisters that no servant was required by law to offer up their virginity, but a pang of sorrow pulsed in her abdomen. Why fight it? She’d stupidly thrown away a chance to give this moment to the man who now held her as his sexual hostage. The man who claimed her heart with one kiss, though at most, all he’d wanted was a fleeting tryst in the woods. Perhaps this was fitting punishment for rejecting him. And maybe, if she closed her eyes and pretended it was Jarrod who was taking her innocence, she could exorcize the fantasy of the prince she would never have from her mind and get on with her life. “Well?” Etianna said. “It is my wish that you get on with it.” That seemed to propel the man’s feet. When they were just inches apart, he put his hand beneath her quivering chin and lifted it. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispered. “I will be gentle.” Ella couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She didn’t want do to this, did she? He laid his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Jarrod was the man she wanted, but she was just being a silly girl. If every woman who found the Prince of Frey to be a sexual god withheld her favors in the hope that he would be her first, the kingdom’s birthrate would cease entirely. Just as she shut her eyes to conjure up an image of the man she wished was standing in front of her, everything went to hell. A crash behind her loosened frozen muscles, and she whipped around to see a nightmare sight. The women screamed in panic as a glowing-eyed beast lunged straight for her. It was the wolf, who had come right through the glass window like a rabid monster. “What the devil?” Andre shouted, and the wolf snarled and barked as if in answer. It came full speed at Andre, its jaws open. Without thinking, Ella shoved Andre aside and rushed forward. “Wolf, no!” she shouted, putting her arm out just as the animal

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clamped down. Pain lashed up her arm and into her shoulder. Andre grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace, wielding it like a sword. Meanwhile the wolf reeled back, its expression sobering in seeming shock over what it had done. Hot blood flowed down the arm Ella clutched to her bare chest, and the animal stared at it, backing up. “Bastard dog!” Andre yelled, bringing the poker down hard. The wolf yelped, a sizzling welt appearing on its shoulder. His yellow eyes shifted to Ella’s for a moment. Then Wolf turned and jumped back out the window. “You’re hurt, Ella,” Andre said. He threw down the poker with a clang and rushed to her side. “We must attend to your arm right away.” “Get out.” Both servants’ heads jerked up. Etianna’s hair stood up in uncharacteristic disarray, and her eyes were shot through with cold rage. “Milady?” Andre asked. “I want her out this instant,” she went on, her voice shaking. “This wasn’t her fault,” he said. “She brought that wolf here,” Faye said, hugging herself. “It destroyed the place and almost killed us all!” “You are clumsy, disobedient, and haven’t even the sense to keep wild animals away from our home,” Etianna went on. “Go.” Andre pushed Ella behind him. “You can’t throw her out now. It might still be out there.” “If it wants her so bad, let it have her. Then maybe it will leave us alone.” Ella panted so fast that the room seemed to close in around her. “No,” Andre said. “I won’t allow it.” Etianna laughed. “Oh, you won’t allow it? This is our home. If you don’t like it, you can go as well.” “Fine.” Andre put an arm around Ella. “Get your things.”

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“She doesn’t have any things,” Etianna said. “Nor do you. Oh,” she said, her mouth twisting into an ugly smile, “except your debts in Marshton. I’d be happy to let the duke know where you are.” His grip tightened around her shoulder. “I’ll take my chances.” “All the way to the chopping block,” Faye said, drawing an imaginary line across her throat. “No,” Ella said, pulling away. “I’ll go. Alone.” “But, Ella...” She cut him off. “My mind is made up. If you try to follow me, I shall tell the duke where you are myself.” He covered the hurt in his expression quickly and stepped back. “If you insist.” With her arm aching like hellfire and her legs threatening not to carry her far, she grabbed the gown still lying on the floor. Before anyone could say another word, she ran out the door.

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Chapter 8 Jarrod rode Draegon in a daze through the woods, barely aware of the world around him. He was halfway back to the castle when Bernard found him. “Your Highness,” he said. “There is a problem.” Jarrod didn’t respond. “Your Highness? I said...” “There is a problem,” Jarrod replied. “I know.” The man eyed him. “Sire?” “How could I have done it, Bernard?” “If I may say, you don’t look at all well.” “I am not. I am heartsick.” Bernard dismounted and grabbed Draegon’s harness. “Prince Jarrod?” “I...bit someone.” “What?” “Not someone.” His voice held thick anguish. “Her.” “Who?” “Ella.” A curse slipped out from under the guard’s breath. “Where is she now?” When the prince just stared, Bernard’s voice grew angry. “I said, where is she now?” Jarrod blinked. “You would raise your voice to a royal?” “My apologies, Your Highness, but you are aware of why I am rather adamant about the subject.” “It was an accident, I swear it. I lost my temper, and the next thing I knew...” Jarrod trailed off and shivered. “She got in the way.”

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Bernard rushed to his mount. “I’ll get her. After I see you safely back to the palace.” “I do not wish to have your escort.” The guard sighed. “But the king does.” Jarrod shot a look at the man, who nodded. “He returned early. I was granted a brief head start before the entire guard was called out.” The prince’s shoulders sagged. His life was an unequivocal mess, a fate he’d just dealt to the woman he loved. He deserved to return to the palace in chains and live his life under the constant guard his father would no doubt require. He fixed a gaze on Bernard. “I’ll return before they have a chance. Please, just get Ella. She is at the manor.” “What shall I do once I have her?” “We will see to her care. She is my responsibility now.” Bernard paused. “Does she know it was you?” Jarrod shook his head. “Then I can take her to my family. They will tend her wounds and teach her what she’ll need to know. She won’t be aware you were involved. Unless you’ve changed your mind about a mate, that is. The danger is no longer an issue, after all. You could...” “She doesn’t want me,” he said. “Even if she did, how could I face her after what I’ve done?” After a solemn exchange of looks, Bernard reined his horse around and took off. Jarrod wanted to race after him, bring Ella back in his arms. He should never have left her there. He wouldn’t have, had he not been out of his mind with shock. He rubbed his burnt shoulder, which was already itching and half-healed. Still, there was no use riding up to save her now. Even without knowing it was he who had just damned her to the life of an animal, Ella did not want him. And any moment, the guard would ride out and force him back. Best to let Bernard attend to her now. He returned to the castle and sat in complete silence during his father’s tirade, followed by the command that the prince be assigned

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two guards at all times. When Bernard at last returned, he continued to sit in silence while his friend gave him the news. Ella was missing. Bernard had gone to the manor and was told that Ella ran away. A servant stopped him on the way out, however, to say the mistresses had actually banished her from the house. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to find her. Bernard then went out and searched the woods himself but found no trace of her. Jarrod spoke long enough to order a quiet handful of guards to search the woods and bordering townships and bring back any news of her. Then he lapsed again into silence. **** Jarrod sat in his office, staring at the desk. For three days, he had not spoken. What was there to say? He’d cursed his love forever and then run like an unthinking fool, too stunned to consider the consequences until Bernard snapped him out of shock. The only news of her had been word that a girl matching Ella’s description had visited the former estate of Baron Maltin of Rau, citing it as her childhood home. Ella’s father had been minor nobility, but was beset by troubled times. He was returning from a lucrative deal that might have ended his woes when thieves felled him by the side of the road. His estate was sold to pay his debts, leaving Ella penniless and without a home. Presumably, this was when she’d gone to her closest relations, the daughters of a former wife Maltin had set aside for philandering. Jarrod had seen firsthand just how that had turned out. Even now, he burned in outrage at the memory of Ella being beaten and then compelled to give away her virginity as punishment while the mistresses watched. The wolf rose at the thought, prickling under his skin. He learned that Ella had recently reached the age of maturity, and

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when Bernard heard this, he felt certain that was what triggered Jarrod’s uncontrollable shifts. Perhaps he was right, for now that she was gone, the prince felt Ella’s absence as a solid, palpable emptiness in every fiber of his body. Bernard had offered one ray of hope, though, which Jarrod contemplated while he rose to gaze out the window. “The first full moon following the night my brother was bitten,” Bernard said, “his first instinct after shifting was to run straight to the were that had turned him.” Jarrod had shrugged. “I recall no such instinct to find my maker.” “That’s because you no longer had one. He was beheaded by guards right after the attack on you.” “So when Ella shifts, she could come here?” “I’m fair certain of it. If she isn’t discovered first.” Jarrod swore. Thanks to his stupidity, Ella wouldn’t have the benefit of knowing what was about to happen to her. When he’d been bitten, Bernard had recognized immediately that it had not been by an ordinary wolf. He’d taken steps to guard the secret and prepare the prince for what was to come. Ella could shift anywhere, in front of anyone. If she did so in the wrong place, she would never reach the palace alive. She would be killed first. His hands ground into fists. The closer the full moon loomed, the more anxious he became. He’d even tried shifting to see if his wolf could sense her, not an easy task considering he was under constant guard. But even then he hadn’t felt her. If she was found in time, Bernard’s family would keep her secret and train her to control the shift. Jarrod would not be involved. Once she gained sufficient control, she would be free to go, and he would see to it she came into some starting-over money. And that would be that. Hopefully, the ache in his soul at her absence from him would ease over time. “Your Highness?” He turned his head to where his father’s aide stood in the doorway. “His Majesty wants to see you.”

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He nodded in silence and two guards escorted him to King Montecleer’s private study, where he stood bent over a carved, gilded table. His gold robes against the primarily gold furnishings gave him the impression of camouflage, and for a moment, Jarrod had the odd impression of his father disappearing entirely within the backdrop of the royal crown. “You sent for me, Father?” The king motioned him to sit by the fire. He seemed to need a moment to gather his thoughts before joining him. “When you were attacked by the wolf,” the king said, “I sat by your bed for ten days. Sat and watched my only child and sole heir to the throne nearly die. Then some miracle snatched you back from the abyss of death. Surely you understand why I do not want to risk seeing my son in danger again.” For the first time, Jarrod noticed how deep the lines were carved into his father’s face. Year after year, the cares of a kingdom and a headstrong son had etched canyons where mere lines had once been. The man didn’t know that the wolf attack had rendered Jarrod immortal, except for the possibilities of beheading or pure silver pierced through the heart. But telling his father the truth would not ease his fear. It would only add a new batch of worries that were far worse. “I do understand, Father.” The man twisted his signet ring, its inset garnet stone flashing in firelight. “I told you that big changes were coming. Those changes have been set in motion.” Jarrod shifted in his chair. “What kind of changes?” “I’m throwing a royal ball in your honor. At the full moon.” The timing dropped like a rock in his stomach. He grimaced. “A party to honor the palace prisoner? Why?” The king stroked his beard. “Your next step toward the throne. The selection of a wife.” Jarrod’s eyes flew wide. “I have no desire for a wife.”

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“Precisely your problem. One I will see resolved before the year is out. Hence, all eligible maidens will be attending this ball. By the end of the night, one of them will be announced as your betrothed.” Jarrod got to his feet. “You can’t do that.” “Sit down.” The command dropped the prince into his chair. “I do as I see fit. Goes with the title. It’s high time you got on with the next phase of life. I won’t be around forever, Jarrod. Though I intend to make a hell of a run out of what’s left.” He groaned at the determined glimmer in his father’s eye. Happy times for Jarrod rarely followed. What lie would derail this subject fast? “I’ve already found someone.” The king let out a hoot. “Well! Don’t be timid, lad. Who is she?” “I need more time. We’re not acquainted enough yet for a royal proposal.” “Nonsense. Where is she? We’ll send a coach at once.” “I don’t know. She left.” The king growled. “Then there’s no need for discussion. You’ve a royal future to consider. The ball will help you forget her.” His gut twisted. “Nothing has that power, I’m afraid. At least postpone your request, give me a chance to seek her.” The man stroked his beard. “I know you’ve been sending the guard after a girl. I also know she is nowhere to be found. I’m not getting any younger, Jarrod. It is almost time for your star to rise. Rulership is much easier with a good woman by your side.” Irritation flared. “There’s no law stating a prince must be wed to inherit the throne.” “Perhaps there should be.” “This from the man who says a woman has no place dictating sovereign policy?” “True. But a good woman might whisper ideas of merit in a sovereign’s ear.” He eyed Jarrod. “Your mother did so often.” “Mother was a wise woman. There’s no guarantee I would meet

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similar fortune in my choice of a wife.” The king grunted. “Nevertheless, there’s still the matter of your restless blood. You cannot serve the crown by roaming the countryside. A king’s eye must be focused here.” Jarrod folded his arms. “Shouldn’t a king’s eye be focused outside the castle, on his lands and subjects?” “The business of the realm is conducted within the palace walls. A wife will curb the wanderlust that could prove distracting.” This whole idea was ludicrous. Yet his father’s stone sober expression indicated he was quite serious. “So, you mean to find a wife to be the warden of my prison cell.” The king’s face reddened. “I mean to see you wed so you will stop your foolish gallivanting and become the powerful monarch you are destined to be.” “And the fact that I would be unhappily tethered is of no consequence?” His father waved a dismissive hand. “The nobility has weathered unhappy arranged marriages for centuries. Weddings are strategy moves, nothing more. Don’t be taken in by the idea that true love has anything to do with it.” “But, Father—” “The ball will be held at the full moon. You will choose a bride by midnight.” Jarrod stiffened. “And if I don’t?” “Then at one minute after midnight, I will choose for you.” His father rose, and with reluctance, Jarrod did likewise. His thoughts raced at the king’s latest insanity. He had to think, and fast. Long robes trailed after the king as he returned to his studies, and the guards stepped forward to escort Jarrod back. “So,” he said, “I must choose by midnight at the royal ball.” His father turned. “That’s right.” “And any girl who attends is eligible?” The king’s eyes narrowed. “Any unwed girl attending as an

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official guest, yes.” “By royal invitation?” “Of course.” He feigned resignation with a dramatic sigh. “I will consent to this charade if you agree that my choice is final. No rejections based on the bride’s financial status, bone structure, or hair color.” The elder Montecleer blinked. “Bone structure? What are you playing at?” “Your word, Father. If I choose this woman, then it shall be her or no other. No substitutions.” The king stared at him as if trying to see potential loopholes. Jarrod held his breath and waited. “If you choose among the eligible, then it shall be her or no other. If you do not, however...” Jarrod cut him off. “Agreed. You win.” “Of course I win. I am king.” Jarrod summoned Bernard as soon as the guard escorted him to his quarters. “Close the door, Bernard. We’ve private matters to discuss.” “I believe the order is for two guards at all times, sire.” Jarrod gave him a pointed look. “Then choose wisely, and be quick about it.” A heartbeat later, Bernard returned pulling a slight man inside behind him. “I expect this has something to do with the king’s proclamation?” “I must select a bride at the ball, by the stroke of midnight.” Bernard grunted. “Seems your acquisition of a mate is inevitable, no matter how you fight it.” “And you know my reservations about that. Then there’s the rather ironic timing of the ball. Nevertheless, I’ve agreed to my father’s decree.” “I’m glad to hear it.” “On the condition that my decision is final. I must choose among

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eligible invited maidens. I intend to honor that, with your help.” Bernard gave a small bow. “Whatever I can do.” Jarrod sat on the edge of his desk. “I need to ensure an invitation is sent out.” He shot a look at the other guard, who stared straight ahead as though he weren’t listening. “To make sure no one important is left out.” Bernard cocked his head. “You don’t mean...” “Yes,” he said. He dropped his voice. “But, Your Highness, her whereabouts are unknown.” “According to your theory, considering the timing of the ball she may attend regardless. Yes?” The man’s expression was grim when understanding dawned. “I would be surprised if she did not. That is unfortunate timing.” Jarrod shook his head. “On the contrary. I’m rather counting on it.” He strode around the desk, plucked up a gold pen, and scribbled on a piece of parchment. He handed it to Bernard. “Make certain an invitation with these names is sent to her last known address. Then she’ll be on the guest list.” Bernard looked at the paper. “You’re inviting the other ladies of the house, too?” Jarrod’s smile was tight. “They deserve a front row seat. Oh, I need a second copy of that invitation.” “As you wish. What about the problem of timing for you?” “Shouldn’t be an issue prior to midnight.” “And your betrothed’s...attire, should she decide to attend?” He sighed. “That’s another thing I need your help with. We’ll need proper garments conveniently on hand and some time alone before the midnight announcement. Say, behind the castle, where prying eyes won’t witness my proposal?” “Excellent suggestion, Your Highness. But it does not preclude all chance of being seen.”

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This was true. Assuming Ella made it unharmed, she would arrive at the palace wild and with no discretion. Keeping her under wraps until he could tame her—if he could tame her—would be no easy matter. “It may prove an interesting night,” he said. “But I trust you will ensure the chances of observation are slim and limited to only the most trustworthy of souls.” He flicked a glance at the other guard. “If you’re right about her, there will be no time to waste. I must get to her immediately and earn her consent before midnight.” Bernard gave him a pointed look. “And if she doesn’t agree or fails to show up in time?” The prince’s head suddenly felt too heavy for his body. “Then a maiden will be destined to suffer a chaste marriage to a man who is in love with somebody else.”

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Chapter 9 It was early evening when Ella dragged herself from her hiding place in the bushes. She crawled over to the stream and cupped her hands for a cool drink. She’d never been this sick before, and there had never been a worse time for it. After fleeing the manor, she’d gone to her former home in Rau. She’d just wanted a glimpse inside, and the new owners had been gracious and concerned. She’d been fed, bathed, and given a gown from the lady’s wardrobe. The ragged wound on her arm had been tended and she’d slept in her old bedroom, slipping out before dawn. This had been fortunate, as she’d overheard that the royal guard was searching for her in Rau, starting with her father’s former estate. This obviously meant the sisters had changed their mind and decided they wanted her back, but Ella had no desire to return. She would not be a cash cow in their erotic harem. So back to the woods she’d gone, and soon after, she’d taken a fever. She’d struggled in desperation to remain hidden during the days since. She was sick, weak, and very alone. The pain in her arm was so great she cried out in anguish. In her delusional state, she might have cut the arm off if she’d had a blade. She missed Wolf and wished he would come find her. She didn’t blame him for what happened. He’d somehow perceived Andre as a threat and had only been trying to protect her. If she’d allowed Andre to accompany her after the banishment, at least he could have cared for her while she’d burned with fever. Still, she didn’t want Andre to suffer on her account. Nor did she kid herself on why he would have gone with her. She doubted he’d stay long once he knew there was no chance of bedding her.

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There was no use pretending she wasn’t hopelessly pining for the man she’d rejected in the woods. Jarrod had enthralled her with a single look, bewitched her with a single kiss. Often while lying in the bushes, she fantasized that the royal guard were really looking for her at his request. She wished he desperately sought her to bring her to the castle and make her his. But she’d ordered him away and run off. He’d long since forgotten her. Still, even if she was destined to live a life wondering what might have been, she knew she wanted greater control over her destiny than what the sisters planned. Her stomach rumbled while she washed her face in the stream. The fever had ebbed, and she felt much better. Now all she had to do was find some food, then decide what to do with the rest of her life. “Ella.” She shrieked and twisted to find Andre standing behind her. His face looked haggard in the scant light of evening, and not a bit pleased to see her. “Andre? What are you doing here?” “I had to make sure you were all right.” Anger furrowed his brow. “Now I know. I won’t bother you again.” “Please don’t leave that way.” She rose on unsteady feet and swaggered, feeling dizzy. He grabbed her. “You’re not all right, are you?” He felt her forehead. “You’re burning with fever.” “I’m much better now, really.” She pulled away. “The bite on my arm was a bit infected, that’s all.” That was an understatement. When last she’d pulled off the bandage, the wound had been fiery red, swollen, and oozing. But it wasn’t even hurting right now. “Here,” he said, reaching for it. “Let me see.” “It’s too dark to see anything.” “Ella. Please. I need to know you won’t drop into a coma.” She sighed. “Fine.” She stuck out her arm, and he unwrapped the bandage. The arm

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was almost completely healed, save an odd scar marking the skin in a pattern of reddish dots. He backed away, the shock in his expression confusing her. “What?” she said, fidgeting as a spike in her temperature sent prickling tingles through her. “You’re not happy that I’ve healed quickly?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ella. I had no idea. I should have realized. He was so aggressive. Too aggressive for a wolf.” “What are you talking about?” She felt moonlight spill onto her shoulders even before she saw the silvery light. The beams illuminated the haunted look in Andre’s eye. Heat exploded in her body like a tingling of thousands of little claws trying to burst out of her skin all at once. She cried and fell, rubbing at her skin to douse the internal flame. Her body felt stretched, then curved, and she curled up into a ball. When the sensation eased, she looked up at Andre from a crouch. “Perhaps I’m in need of a physician after all.” He blinked, mouth agape. Then he took a step back. “What’s wrong?” She moved toward him and he retreated, his hand going to the long hunter’s knife sheathed in his belt. Her eyes widened when he withdrew the wicked blade. “Forgive me, Ella,” he said in anguished tones. “This knife is silver. I must end your curse now, before you hurt anyone.” Hurt anyone? What on earth did he mean? She would never hurt anyone. There was a wild look in his eye, and she suddenly wondered whether he’d contracted the same illness as she, only it had driven him mad. “Please, Andre,” she said. He raised the knife higher and she drew back, one leg splashing into the chilled stream. His hand shook and he sucked in a ragged breath. Then the knife wavered and he exhaled a defeated groan. “Run, Ella,” he said, deadly quiet. “Run now, before I change my mind.”

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She tried to flee, but her legs tangled in her dress. The garment was suddenly too big, and as she fought to push up off the ground with her hands, she glanced down at them and shrieked. Ella whirled around to the stream and glanced over the edge. In the reflection, she saw the ripple of a full moon and the face of a wolf, its glowing eyes staring back at her. How could this be? She staggered back around to find Andre raising his knife over her again. She closed her eyes when the blade came down, and heard the rip of her dress as it tore through the garment. “Go now,” he said. He’d slit her dress open, and she stepped out of the material and turned to go. Her eyes met his for a moment and she tried to thank him, but her words came out as snarls and barks. Then she raced off into the night. Ella ran, faster than she’d ever run. She could see clearly despite the darkness and had no trouble dipping and twisting and turning through the woods. She should have been completely panicked by this bizarre event or questioning her sanity. Yet as moments passed with nothing but the sound of footfalls in the brush, she realized two things. First, if she’d ever wondered why she felt so drawn to the woods, now she knew. Second, she knew right where she was going. Pure, unrestrained power flowed through her as she strove to see what her new, sleek form could do. If she was gripped by a delusional fever, so be it. Let the hallucination take over. Let it drown her mundane existence until all that remained was freedom. Sensations began flashing in her mind, her brain rerouting its long-trained higher functions to access her animal nature. Run. Hunt. Eat. Smell. Mate. She pictured Wolf, and her muzzle pulled back in a grin. He was muscled, powerful, beautiful. She felt his call, down through every strand of fur she possessed, and she raced to him. Her body pulled toward his maleness. She would challenge him to see whether he was

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wolf enough to best her new strength. Wolf enough to be called her alpha. The trees cleared enough to see the full moon overhead. Its energy poured down like a rain of magic, and she stopped to stand on a small boulder and drink in its potency. Then she leaned back and did something new. She howled at the moon. **** Jarrod’s body bunched with tension while he stood on the balcony overlooking the Grand Ballroom. The majority of the noble class was in attendance, and a tireless parade of gowns circled the dance floor. Jarrod tugged at his official garments, courtesy of the royal tailor’s most sadistic fantasies. The dark purple tunic and breeches with gold buttons and trim made him stand out like a royal beacon, something his father was no doubt enjoying. The king sat on the dais down below, overlooking the festivities with a satisfaction that irked Jarrod to no end. “Hiding?” Bernard came up behind him, looking crisp in a fresh guard uniform. Jarrod glared. “Two hours of dancing already. And this corded velvet itches.” Even as he said it, he knew his finery wasn’t to blame for the tingling irritation on his skin. The hour grew late, and the full moon was already stirring his blood. Had it stirred hers? “The king wants you to rejoin him at once,” Bernard said. “How are you feeling?” “I’ve danced with half the women of the province, all of whom giggle and dither far too much. I’m about to be betrothed to God knows who and Ella could show up at any moment. Worse, she may not show at all.” He itched at his chest. “And I’m not entirely certain I

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can hold back the change long enough to make it through the ball.” “Then you had best finish making appearances.” “How much time is left?” Jarrod asked as they made their way to the staircase. “An hour until midnight.” “Is everything in place?” “It is.” “The attire?” “Where we discussed. I took the liberty of including garments for you, just in case.” “The invitation?” “With the gown.” He pulled aside his tabard to show an ivory envelope. “I’ve a third with me, in case.” “Good. It seems you’ve thought of everything.” Jarrod wiped perspiration from his brow. “I should await her outside.” “Special guards are posted to the rear walls tonight,” Bernard said. “They will not fire on a wolf.” He shot the man a look. “They know of my condition?” “They know of weres, but not that such is your fate. They are ordered to alert me without shooting or raising alarm if a wolf is seen.” Jarrod tried to relax while he descended the stairs. “His Royal Highness, Prince Jarrod,” was announced with great fanfare. All eyes turned on him. The prince made his way through bowed courtesans all the way to the throne. “There you are, son.” King Montecleer had outdone himself in purple and silver robes and wore his largest and most outlandish crown and jewels. Jarrod winced. He and his father must look like a pair of strutting peacocks. “You’ve hardly danced.” “I danced plenty, but with half the kingdom present, it hasn’t made a dent in anything but my feet.” The king held out a card. “Your dance card is full. Go use it.”

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“Dance cards are for women.” “Not this time. Every girl knows you are seeking a bride tonight.” Jarrod groaned. “I suppose you had it printed on the invitations?” “Court gossip is far more efficient. Here. Tuck this up your sleeve. That is,” the man said, glancing around, “unless someone is here you’d rather dance with?” The prince felt hot prickles at the base of his spine while he stuck the card away. “No. No one.” “Then good luck. Choose well.” Jarrod descended the dais, aware of all the female eyes on him. Few women in court inspired him to hold a two minute conversation with them, let alone dance a four minute waltz. “Your Highness.” He was stunned to see Ella’s dark-haired stepsister giving him a low curtsy, the square cut of her burgundy velvet gown exposing a vast portion of small breasts. “I believe I am signed for your first dance.” He tugged out the card, wondering whether it was polite to check and see whether she told the truth. “Lady Etianna deStaull of Vassant?” he read. To her nod and smile, he stuffed the card back. How he would love to spend their time together having a chat about beating and abandoning the woman he loved, but the last thing he needed tonight was a scene. With a nod, he clasped a hand behind his back while holding hers aloft, and escorted her to the dance floor. She twirled readily into his arms, her eyes radiating undeniable lust. He pulled her close as the dance required, but she pressed her body tighter still. “You look most dashing this evening, Your Highness.” “Thank you. You look,” he cleared his throat and tried to think of something polite to say, “radiant as well.” Colors swirled past them, and distant echoes sounded in his head. Then came a sudden tug on his soul, a call in the distance from the woman he loved. He felt the moon spring to life within him, a pulse

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of power racing through his veins. “Your eyes are so compelling,” Etianna was saying when his attention returned. “I’d always thought them a brilliant green, but I see wearing the royal colors makes them appear gold.” His heart sped, and the needle pricks began rapid-firing on his skin. Jarrod stopped dancing and gulped for air. “What’s wrong, Your Highness?” He glanced over at his father, who was watching with a disapproving stare. The prince tried to smile and resumed dancing. “I’m afraid I’m not quite myself tonight.” To his surprise, she beamed. “Ah, cold feet. I understand.” She lowered her voice. “Picking a bride and all. If you require relief from the pressure, I would be happy to assist. If there is a private corner somewhere, perhaps?” Her voice fell away, drowned out by the thundering pulse in his ears. Then he heard a wolf’s howl paying homage to the lunar magic, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from doing the same. “Ella,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, sire?” Etianna said. “What was that?” The dance ended, and he offered a short bow. She curtsied, frowning. He mumbled thanks and turned away when he saw Lady Nicodema racing up, no doubt partner number two on the dance card. Bernard was at his side in a heartbeat. “I’ve news,” he said. “I felt it,” Jarrod replied. “She’s coming. Let’s go.” “The king is watching, and I don’t think he’s at all pleased you’ve chosen me as a dance partner.” Jarrod’s glare stopped him. “Sire, your eyes are...” “I know. Another reason why I must go.” The prince felt the daggers of his father’s stare on his back as they left, and he half expected guards to drag him back. The burning in his limbs was fierce now, but something stronger was taking him over. Something inevitable. Something he hadn’t wanted to accept. This time, his wolf was coming out to claim its mate. And it

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wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Faster,” Jarrod said through clenched teeth as the two men raced down the back hall. “Where?” Bernard said. “Kennels.” As soon as Bernard threw open the door leading to the kennels, the prince shouted at the keeper and guards nearby. “Leave,” he commanded, and with startled bows, they rushed to obey. He peeled his clothes off as soon as they were out of eyesight. The dogs were racing circles in their cages, barking and howling. Jarrod turned to Bernard. “Call away the guard. I don’t want anyone to shoot by mistake.” “We do not use silver-tipped arrows. She would not be killed.” “No, just blinded or maimed. And don’t forget your prince will be out there, too.” He ran for the yard and felt the fiery pop as the change took place. He came down on all fours and smelled her scent, felt her excitement igniting his loins. Ella was here. Guards shouted to one another when Jarrod shot into the rear yard, his claws sending up sprays of dirt as he rushed to find his mate. The men were clearly shocked to see another wolf behind them, but Jarrod was fixated on the one who’d somehow scaled the massive wall. “Orders, sir,” he heard one yell. “Stand down,” came Bernard’s reply. “Palace hounds will deal with this.” “That’s not a hound, sir,” another shouted. “It’s a...” “The situation is in hand,” was the last thing Jarrod heard before his world shrank to the wolf in front of him. Jarrod had always been struck by Ella’s female perfection. Now as she stood with her front legs planted wide and her head held high, he saw how majestic and powerful she was as a wolf. Her eyes were an eerie blue, and her golden fur shone in the moonlight. The sight of her stood his hair on end and snapped his full instincts into place. He

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knew what came next. He would have to prove his dominance in order to win the right to mount her. Ella charged forward, ears laid back and lips curled over her teeth. Jarrod barked a command to stop. She did not comply. The pair clashed, rearing up on hind legs and engaging in a snarl of fur and flashing eyes and teeth. Her jaw clamped down on his ear, and he shoved her away with his powerful forelegs. Then they fell, tumbling over one another while snapping and growling in a cloud of dust. Ella was fiery and raw, her new strength wild and unpredictable. But Jarrod was more powerful, more practiced, and more certain than ever this female was his. The scent of her desire rose with each mark he laid on her with teeth and paws, and the heady power of it fueled his cock and his determination. He drove her up against the wall and let out a long, low growl. Still she resisted, so he whipped around and clamped his jaws on the back of her neck. He exerted pressure to push her down, and when she was belly down on the ground he straddled her back and held her with his weight and his teeth. With his sides heaving and saliva seeping into her soft fur, he waited. His phallus was stiff against her back, and he let out soft, low growls of desire. Slowly he felt her relax, yielding to his animal seduction. In a final gesture of consent, she lifted her tail for him. He could claim her right here, right now. But they were not animals, not entirely. She deserved privacy, and something else from him that was far more important. He glanced at Bernard, who stood beside his gaping men. “Show’s over,” he told the rest. “Take a break.” “Sir,” one said, his wide eyes fixed on the wolves, “who will guard the wall?” “I will.” “But you guard the prince.” “Indeed,” Bernard said. “But I can relieve you for...ten minutes?” To Jarrod’s indignant growl he said, “Twenty minutes. But that’s all.

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Midnight fast approaches.” Midnight. In his desperation to get to Ella, he’d almost forgotten. Bernard walked a distance away and turned his back. Jarrod tugged on Ella’s scruff to pull her behind the seclusion of the courtyard tree he had used so often to get over the wall and race to the manor. To her. When she caught on to the idea, she followed, then rolled onto her back to expose her belly and throat in submission to her alpha. He moved over her, taking hold of her throat with his teeth for a moment. He gave her muzzle a gentle lick, his heart pounding. It was time for her to learn how to change back. Time to reveal who he really was—and face her horror and rejection once he did. The prince shifted, feeling his muzzle shrink and limbs elongate. He held a startled Ella in place when she tried to pull away. “Ella,” he whispered. She froze at the sound of her name. “Yes, I know who you are. Now you know who I am. Come back to me. Reach inside you and find the woman. Pull her back, like turning a sweater right side out.” There was a pause. Then she shut her eyes and began to quiver. He murmured instructions and encouragement while her body began to take shape. Then she was there, gloriously naked beneath him. “Hi,” he said, stroking the silken hair splayed behind her. “It was you all along,” she said in a stunned whisper. “You’re my Wolf.” Her gaze slid down his body as he crouched naked on all fours over her. His cock was hard and throbbing, and her stare lingered there a long moment. “I’m so sorry I bit you, Ella. Please understand it was an accident.” “I know. I knew you were just trying to protect me.” “This must be a vast shock and a disappointment, knowing now that it was me. You made it clear in the woods that you didn’t want me. I apologize for not staying away.”

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Her eyes narrowed. Then she took hold of the sides of his head and pulled him to her. He groaned when her tongue pushed into his mouth. Her hands were everywhere, running over his chest, his shoulders, his back. His heart jumped. He returned the favor by skimming a hand over her breast, pinching a nipple. Her impassioned cry sent a trickle of semen from his cock onto her belly. “Ella,” he murmured into the sweet scent of her hair. She wanted him. For whatever reason, she’d changed her mind. Or maybe her rejection in the woods had nothing to do with him. Either way, his entire being was on fire for this woman, and now that she lay in his arms, he had no intention of letting go.

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Chapter 10 Ella still wondered if this was all a fevered delusion, but she didn’t care. What greater dream was there than to discover the man of her fantasies and her beloved animal friend were melded into one magnificent being? When she transformed, her impulses had narrowed down to one instinct—find her mate and challenge him. She’d fought Wolf in battle, and the strong, virile alpha had proved his worth. Now, nothing mattered more than to have his strength and potency take control of her. Claim her. Her heart pounded while she drove her tongue inside his mouth, letting her hands roam every solid inch of him. He was a beautiful, powerful wolf, but a spectacular man as well. His sculptured face, fiery eyes, and rippled physique intoxicated her. She reached down to take hold of his immense cock, marveling at the thick veins and hard flesh under the velvety skin. Her sex was moist and throbbing, just as she felt his cock throbbing for her. When she worked his shaft up and down, the animal moans in his throat drove her into a faster, more fevered motion. His hand slid between her thighs, and she spread wide for him so he could feel her readiness. His fingers rubbed circles over her clit and she bucked against them, a familiar delicious tension gathering low in her pelvis. As bold as she’d been on occasion with Mistress Etianna, she’d never truly desired her. She desired release, one only Jarrod could give. She raked her nails across his shoulders and let out guttural moans, not caring that she sounded like the animal she’d just been. He pushed two fingers inside her and she reached up to tangle her fingers

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in his dark hair and pull him to her breast. He went with an eager groan, and the sublime sensation of his wet mouth sucking in her nipple while his fingers worked in and out of her wet pussy proved too much for her. When he slid a third finger into her opening the tension in her body sharpened, her back arched, and a climax exploded with an ecstasy that brought speckles to the corners of her vision. She screamed and writhed against his hand for an endless stretch. Etianna was right about one thing. The orgasm that had been denied time and again was a heaven unlike any other. Jarrod kissed his way up her throat and pressed his lips to her ear. “I think you’re ready for me, love.” He positioned himself to where she could feel the tip of his cock pressing against her. Then she realized what she needed from this moment, and pushed him back. His eyes were black with need and wild with confusion. “What is it? What’s wrong?” “Nothing. I just…” She paused. “I would like to be on top.” His gaze was emerald heat. “An intriguing thought, but won’t that hurt too much for your first time?” She shrugged. “Perhaps. But this is something I wish to give you, rather than have taken from me. I want control over it, if that makes sense.” He nodded and they switched roles. She straddled Jarrod while gazing appreciatively at his unbelievably muscular form. She wondered at this moment and at how she’d dreamed of losing her virginity to a man who captured her heart. The mistresses had been prepared to give Ella’s maidenhead away to a servant. She couldn’t help but wonder what they would say if they knew the crown prince had claimed her instead. Ella leaned down, her hair spilling over Jarrod. He brushed her long locks back and pressed his hips upward. He took her nipple in his mouth and she rubbed her clit against the hard cock lying on his stomach, feeling her arousal coat his member until it was as slick as

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she was. “Gods, Ella,” he whispered, nuzzling her breasts, “I wish to be patient. But you’re driving the animal out of me.” Her own animal responded. She reached down to guide his cock to her entrance, and then slid the tip inside. The feel of him was madness and glory, and she lowered until she felt resistance. His body quivered, and his groans were making it very difficult for her to control her actions. Not certain whether a gradual descent or fast drop was best, she held her breath and took him. She shoved herself down on him, crying out at the sharp lance of pain. Then her ass was flat on his body and his cock immersed to her womb. He stroked her arm gently. “It’s okay, Ella. After what you’ve suffered, the pain of your first time must be frightening. But I’ll never hurt you again.” She blinked. “Never?” He shook his head. “I swear.” The feel of his cock deep inside softened her disappointment at his declaration, and she began to grind her hips back and forth to indulge the amazing sensation of being filled by him. Still, she couldn’t help but take one of his hands and lay it against her ass. She whispered, “What if there are certain kinds of pain that I enjoy?” He stared, though each thrust of her hips made his eyelids flutter closed briefly. “What do you mean?” “This.” She took his hand and slapped herself with it, then tipped her head back with a pleasurable moan. His eyes seemed like they were on fire when she looked down again. “A lesson from the mistresses I’d like to keep. If you are alpha enough to demand proper discipline from time to time.” “My Ella,” he said, arching to meet her thrust. “You are just hellbent on bringing out my beast.” “As you have brought out mine.” She bounced faster, her breasts jiggling. “Oh, how I wanted this the day you kissed me in the woods.”

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That seemed to unhinge him. Jarrod swore, then slapped her ass. The stinging burn made her cry out, and heavenly pressure began to build. She worked her clit against him while he spanked her and pinched her nipples, and soon the growls from both of them grew loud and feral. Sweat slicked her breasts, and when she glanced down his eyes were golden and his shoulder muscles were oversized and corded. Her body tingled, and striations began to rise on her forearms. Her nails lengthened, and when she raked red welts over his chest, he growled encouragement. With a final wild, driving pace she found her peak again, and while her sex clenched around him he hugged her to him and bit down deliciously on her breast. Their cries were half animal when his hot seed shot into her. Then they collapsed in a heap of slick flesh. The sounds of their breathing slowed in sync, and she gazed at stars she swore had never been visible to her before. She’d never felt so in tune with anyone. She could feel Jarrod’s emotions like a breeze between them, could almost hear his thoughts. “Oh, my,” she said at last. “I’d say quite a bit more than ‘oh, my,’” Jarrod added, stroking her hair. “I thought fate had taken this away from me. I’m just so sorry I cursed you.” She pushed herself up. “This isn’t a curse. It’s a dream come true.” He frowned. “You dreamed of becoming a werewolf?” “I dreamed of freedom, and sharing myself with the man I love.” His heart thudded. “You love me?” Ella smiled. “The wolf and the man.” He took her hand and kissed the palm. “I loved you before I knew you existed. The wolf kept bringing me to you. I just wouldn’t allow myself to want you, because I didn’t want to be selfish enough to put you at risk.” He glanced at her arm, at the unique pattern that marked her as his. “I never meant for this to happen, Ella.” “I’m glad it did. I had given up believing I was destined for love.”

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“Your life can never be the same. There are dangers.” “That is true for everyone.” “You’ll have to guard this secret, or it will jeopardize us both. Bernard is the only one who knows.” She threw him a guilty glance. “Andre knows about me.” He frowned. “You told him?” Ella plucked a blade of grass. “He found me in the final throes of the fever. He saw me change.” “What did he do?” “He tried to kill me.” Jarrod sat up, but Ella laid a calming hand on his thigh. “He couldn’t go through with it. He let me go.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Once it is known you and I are together, he may figure out who bit you. It could bring ruin to the crown and death to us both.” “He will not tell,” she said, and somehow knew it was true. “He has secrets of his own. Debts in high places.” “I hope you’re right. But we shall do what we can to ensure his good graces.” “So, does this mean you plan to let others know you’re courting a servant?” He squeezed her hand. “A royal ball is being held on my behalf right now. I would be most honored if you would grant me a dance.” She laughed. “Is clothing optional at royal functions these days?” Jarrod grinned, pointing up. She glanced overhead. “Oh,” she said with a gasp, “it’s beautiful.” He helped her up and they pulled the finest garments she’d ever seen from the branches above them. His tunic and breeches were black velvet with fiery red accents, and his shoulder sash bore the royal crest in gold. Her gown contained endless yards of silk in the same emerald green as Jarrod’s eyes, trimmed in the yellow-gold of his wolf’s. And the shoes were breathtaking, encrusted with crystals that shimmered in the moonlight.

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“They’re only glass,” he said, “not diamonds. They were my mother’s.” He slid one on her foot. “Perfect fit.” “They’re magnificent. Thank you.” As she tried to find a way beneath the volumes of fabric, Jarrod stopped her. “There is one other small detail,” he said. “I must be betrothed by midnight.” She gasped. “To anyone in particular?” He pulled a boot from the tree. “That depends.” Ella frowned, not certain she liked that answer. “You would name someone else?” He shook his head. “But my father would. He will do so at one minute after midnight.” Her heart shattered. “You bedded me knowing this?” Tears rose, and her hand lashed out. Jarrod caught her wrist before she made contact with his cheek. “No. I made love to you in desperate hope you would consent to be mine.” She blinked while he searched her face. “Do you not know how much you are already in my soul?” He kissed the breath from her, and by the time he released her, tears were falling. “You have long since captured mine,” she said as he thumbed a teardrop from her cheek. “Please forget that I just attempted to strike a royal.” He shook his head. “Oh, no. That is a grave offense. You will be punished fiercely. Later.” She gasped when he pulled her around and gave her a hard smack on the ass. It tingled while she put on her dress with Jarrod watching. “It occurs to me you have not given me an answer.” She stepped into the glass slippers. “Your Highness, I don’t believe you’ve asked me a question.” Prince Jarrod of Frey dropped to one knee, completely naked under the full moon. “I am your friend, your prince, your alpha, and your lover. But I will never be complete unless you consent to be

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my—” He stopped at the sound of boot steps approaching. In a panic, he rose and began yanking on garments. “The guard.” She ran a hand over what was no doubt a hopeless mess of hair. “What do they want?” “Your Highness,” a voice called from a few yards away. “A moment, Bernard,” he shouted, jamming feet into his boots. He pulled the sash over his head last, then grabbed her by the hand and pulled her from behind the tree. She gasped as they emerged to find a dozen guards marching up. “His Majesty the king commands your audience immediately and...” The guard’s voice was drowned out by the resonant gong of the palace clock tower. Jarrod’s grip tightened around her hand. “Oh, no,” he said. “We’re late. Come on.” He took off at a dead run. Considering the scads of silk in the gown Ella was gathering up with her free hand, she expected to fall head over glass shoes at any moment. But it seemed her posttransformation feet were quite light, even in human form. She matched his steps with ease. Another guard opened a door for them as the clock ceased, and then they were racing along a gold and marble corridor. “Here,” he said, pulling something from his tunic and thrusting it at her. “What’s this?” “Your invitation to the ball.” She took the envelope as his boots slid to a stop near a large entrance. He tucked Ella’s hand in his elbow and rushed inside. Her eyes widened when she saw the huge ballroom. Hundreds of nobles were lined up, facing the far side of the room. She gasped and pulled back. “I can’t,” she said. “He’s making the announcement. It has to be now.”

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“There must be a thousand leaves in my hair,” she whispered. “What will people think?” “They’ll think the prince is a complete fool if he walks in with a beauty like you and leaves betrothed to someone else. Come.” The king was up on a grand dais, giving a speech. As they rushed forward through the parted crowd, she heard gasps and whispers behind her and caught a brief glimpse of her stepsisters’ utter shock. “Now that the crown prince is of age,” King Montecleer declared in thunderous tenor, “the time has come to declare his marriage. I am proud to announce...” “Wait, Father,” Jarrod shouted. The king’s gaze fell on them, and the court bowed to the prince as he brought Ella forward. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to pretend a thousand eyes were not trained on her. The prince’s boot heels clicked a rapid staccato, and then she was standing before the King of Frey. The man was oversized, even before the addition of a raised platform, and cut an intimidating sight. He glowered down on her, then Jarrod, then back at her again. “Well?” The king said at last. “What is it that’s worth interrupting a major royal announcement?” “This is the announcement,” Jarrod said. “I thought you would want us both present while you make it.” Gray royal eyes shifted to Ella. “We had a bargain, son.” “And I have kept it. You asked that I make a choice before midnight. I made mine some time ago.” He turned to Ella. “I just need to know hers.” The king grunted. “And I’d like to know who she is.” Jarrod took her envelope and gave it to the king. “May I present Miss Ella Maltin, daughter of the late Baronet Maltin of Rau.” She held a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty.” “Ah, yes,” the king said. “The baronet of Rau. He was a good man. My condolences for your loss, my dear.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

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“Rise,” Jarrod whispered, and she tried to stand without trembling. If she shook any harder, her glass slippers might shatter from the vibration. “This is the one you spoke of, I take it?” The king asked, shifting his gaze to her. “And sent the royal guard after?” “It is.” Ella shot a surprised glance at Jarrod. King Montecleer looked over the invitation, then back at her. “I was in the midst of Prince Jarrod’s engagement announcement. But it sounds as though he is awaiting a decision from you.” “As I am still awaiting the question, Your Majesty,” she said. Ripples of laughter echoed through the room. Jarrod’s smile in return electrified her. “I believe it is customary to offer the maiden a proposal, and a token,” the king said. “Something that sparkles?” Ella grinned at Jarrod’s guilty expression. “Oh, he already gave me something that sparkles.” She lifted her skirts and stuck out a glass-slippered foot. The king snorted. “Not quite what I was expecting. Which is precisely what I’ve come to expect from my son.” The room fell silent when Jarrod cleared his throat, and for the second time that night, he dropped to one knee before her. Before he could speak, however, Ella heard a sharp gasp-shriek above the myriad whispers heard in the court. “What? He’s asking Ella?” Even before Ella turned her head, she recognized Etianna’s shrill tone. “He can’t do that. She’s nothing but a lowly, no-good—” Etianna’s protest was cut off by Faye’s pale hand clamping over her sister’s mouth. The entire court turned to stare, and Faye gave a shrug and a tiny laugh. “Pay us no mind. We’re just so excited for her, is all.” Etianna yanked the hand away, but held her tongue. Her eyes flicked Ella’s direction with a glimmer of what almost appeared to be

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fear. Ella held her gaze for a pointed moment before turning back around, away from the part of her life that was already behind her. Jarrod was glowering at the sisters from down on one knee. Ella cleared her throat primly to bring his fiery eyes back to her, and then she gave him a sly smile. “I believe you were about to say something, Your Highness?” He returned her smile. “You heard part of this speech already. What I didn’t get to say is that I am hopelessly in love with you, Ella Maltin of Rau. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Or did I just make a royal ass of myself in front of the entire court?” She beamed, her heart pounding. “Yes, Prince Jarrod of Frey. Forever yes.” Soon after, Forever yes was engraved on a pair of royal marriage rings and became couples’ most requested sentiment for wedding invitations ordered in the kingdom of Frey.

THE END http://www.jroseallister.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR J. Rose Allister has long believed in fairy tales, werewolves, and the power of sensual spanking. She resides with her family near sizzling Palm Springs, California, and when she’s not pounding out hot tales she enjoys cooking, gardening, movies and teaching her youngest child at home.

Also by J. Rose Allister Siren PolyAmour: Kata Sutra Siren Classic: Bewitching Love

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