Unlike regular shifters, mythical shifters don’t have the ability to shift into their creature’s form at birth. It’s because mythical shifters often have extra magic that would be unruly in a child. Hunter’s and Gem’s animals manifested at seventeen. Could you imagine baby dragons and phoenixes flying around, wreaking havoc and setting shit on fire?
I scoff. “There has never been a bond group with an age gap like that, and you know it. You’re grasping at straws,” I argue. “Maybe you are just going to have to face the fact that a sixth doesn’t exist, or if they did, maybe they died in an accident before being marked. Give it up, Gryffin, and focus on the bond you have right in front of you, because we are falling apart.” I don’t wait for any of them to reply before I leave.
My bear growls inside my chest as I make my way through the shifters and humans on the dance floor. He is both pissed and sad, and I feel the hair on my arms ripple as I struggle to keep from shifting. It’s a full moon tonight, as is required for the ceremony, and instead of being out in the woods and shifting like we normally do, we’re stuck in here, wrapped up in confining suits and playing nice. We want nothing more than to shed the uncomfortable clothes and run, and it’s making us miserable.
“Liam, hey, Liam, wait up,” Brodie calls, but I don’t stop. Instead, I make a beeline to the balcony doors for some much needed fresh air. Maybe if I get outside, I can stop some of the panic inside me.
The cold air slaps me in the face, and I breathe deeply as I step out onto the deserted balcony. The nights are getting colder, and the leaves are starting to change color in the forest. Winter is definitely on its way. The urge to shift and run hits me hard, and I reach out to grab hold of the railing to steady myself, my knuckles turning white with the exertion.
“Hey, are you okay, man?” Brodie puts a hand on my shoulder, and I shake my head.
“No, I’m really not. I’m so pissed at Gryffin. How can he be so blind and stubborn? He is so obsessed with that damn reading that he ignores everything he has in front of him. Anyone with half a brain can see he and Gem are hot for each other, but he’s like a fucking ostrich sticking his head in the sand. This obsession with finding this illusive sixth is going to break us. My bear will not survive if our bond breaks. I’m already struggling,” I admit, breathing hard. I concentrate on the view. The Aramis Arms backs up to the shifter border and the forest that delineates the two zones. I can feel the full moon calling to me, but I don’t look up. Shifters don’t need to shift on the full moon, but it’s more comfortable for us if we do.
Brodie sighs heavily, his hand tightening on my shoulder. “I know. It’s tricky. I think in Gryff’s brain, he would be betraying our mate if he and Gem started anything before she is marked.”
“That’s just stupid.” I whirl around to face him. Brodie’s normally laughing blue eyes show concern, and I hate that I’m the cause of that. “Plenty of bonds are in relationships with each other before they find their mate. The goddess wouldn’t put people together if it wasn’t meant to be. Our mate will love them even if they are in a relationship with each other as well.” I’m not only angry, I’m also slightly jealous. I’m not interested in either of them like that, but I want someone to love.
“Yeah, I know. Look, let’s just get through the next couple of weeks. Once the new king or queen is secure, we can sit down as a bond group and talk about it. We can’t ignore it any longer. I can see you’re struggling with your bear, and my wolf is pissed as well. They have to have it out once and for all and clear the fucking air, and we have to convince Gryffin to give up on his quest. Maybe we can talk to Lucas and Layla about it, and theycan intervene, but I don’t want to add more to their plate just yet.”
I nod, and my bear settles slightly, knowing our bond mate is right.
A gong sounds out in the ballroom, and I hear the roof start to open.
“Shit, it’s time. Come on, let’s go watch history in the making.” He releases my shoulder, and I take one last deep breath before we rejoin the crowd inside the ballroom.
We make our way over to our bond group, which is close to the front. Gryffin wants to watch his parents’ ceremony. He narrows his eyes on me, and I glare back at him, but he turns his attention upwards, and I do the same. The roof of the ballroom slides open, showing the moon at its zenith. The air begins to buzz with magic as the four royals step up onto the platform and kneel. The crowd falls silent as the goddess Aramis appears in front of them. As one, we all sink to our knees and bow our heads in reverence to the goddess who gave us life.
“Stand, my children.” Her voice reverberates around the room. When we return to our feet, I try to see through the magic to make out what she looks like, but her glow makes it impossible to see any features, even with my heightened sight.
“Lucas, Layla, Mia, and Evelyn, you have been just and kind rulers, and I thank you for your service, but it is time for some new blood. Once I send my magic out, the countdown to the new ruler’s appearance will begin. You four will continue to advise until their mates are found, they are crowned, and have selected their new council.”
There’s some uncomfortable murmuring in the crowd, and I smile. I had forgotten the council was also at risk tonight. The new king or queen always gets to select their new advisory council. In the past, it has remained virtually unchanged, with former kings and queens and their family members, but it isat the discretion of the new ruler. Lucas refused adding the previous queen and her mates to the council because she was a bitter old twat who was jealous and made his mates feel small. She must be at least a hundred by now, which isn’t that old for a shifter since, on average, we live to about three hundred. She lives somewhere in the country toward the borderlands near the witches, banished there by Lucas, which was somewhat of a scandal and unprecedented. She really did not like giving up her magic, or so I’ve been told.
“Please remove the crowns,” the goddess asks, and the four rulers use both hands to lift the symbols of their reign into the air. The goddess waves a hand, and magic swirls around the four frozen people. I see Lucas sag slightly before he straightens and stands tall. Apparently having the magic removed from you is both painful and freeing. The magic swirls around, and the crowns begin to fall apart, becoming one with the swirling magic. A portion breaks off and shoots up into the sky through the open roof in search of the new chosen king or queen, while the remaining magic whirls furiously, growing so large, the king and queens need to step back off the dais.
The crowd murmurs loudly, and I look at Gem, our resident genius bookworm. “What’s happening?”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the spectacle. “This is when we find out how many mates the new king or queen will have.”
“It’s pre-decided?” Brodie asks, frowning. “I thought the ruler got to choose.”
“They do get to choose the individuals, but not the number—that is determined by magic.” He waves a hand, shushing us, so I turn my attention back to the platform.
The magic finally settles, and in its place is one large crown—the ruler’s crown. It’s hard to tell whether it’s more masculine or feminine, which I heard was a good indicator of whether a male or female was chosen, but what happens next has the crowdgasping and surprised chatter breaking out despite the goddess’s presence.
Floating on either side of the large crown are six smaller ones, three on each side. “Holy crap, six consorts,” Gem mutters. “There has never been a king or queen with that many consorts.”
The magic fades, the goddess waves a hand, and all seven crowns rest on busts surrounded by glass. The magic surrounding her person clears, and we finally get a look at the goddess. She’s tall, probably seven feet, with a body made for sin, all curves and long legs and lush, flowing gold hair. Her face is so perfect, it’s almost hard to look at. She has a smile on her face, which I would say borders on mischievous. “Ah, six consorts. Yes, that seems like a perfect number for my new chosen. I’m really going to enjoy watching this play out. It’s going to be very interesting,” she murmurs almost to herself before facing us and raising her hands.
“Please join me in thanking your king and queens.” Magic shoots out of her fingertips, and fireworks explode in the air as the crowd bursts into applause. “I will be watching closely. Remember, I am never too far away,” she reminds the crowd, but she turns to look at our bond group, and I feel like she’s staring directly into my soul for a moment before her gaze slides away and she fades as quickly as she first appeared.
The band starts up again, and the applause dies, so I tune into the speculation.
“There has never been so many consorts,” a man behind us murmurs.
“No, usually it’s three,” his female companion replies. “What does this mean?”
“It can’t be anything good,”the man says, and I feel a pang of dread. Great, just what we need, shifters speculating.
