When I arrived at work this morning, Bryson informed me that we both received a summons from my parents and had to go to the palace immediately. I left the rest of my team behind. We were all on standby, waiting for the new ruler to emerge so they could be escorted to the palace under guard for their security.
“Has anyone called any tips into the tip line?” Layla, my biological mother, asks, looking at both Bryson and me.
Bryson frowns. “There have been a lot of calls, but when teams were sent out, they all turned out to be fake. We have beenrun off our feet dealing with wannabe royals, and I’m beginning to get annoyed,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair, smoke drifting out of his nostrils. His dragon is close to the surface with his fragile hold on his temper.
My father throws his arms up in the air and sinks down onto the steps leading up to the thrones. He stares at the glass encasing the new crown and the six matching crowns, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do. The people are starting to whisper.”
Mia gets up and moves over to sit beside him, sweeping her dress to the side. All four of them are dressed to impress in case the new royal appears at any moment. She puts her arm around my dad and presses a kiss to his cheek. He grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Darling, don’t you remember how you felt when you were selected? I bet they are completely overwhelmed. Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. They are probably organizing their affairs before they present themselves to the palace.”
My dad slumps. It’s very unkinglike, and I feel a pang of sympathy for him. He’s probably worried they are not going to appear, and he will have to spend another forty years ruling the shifters. It’s not a particularly hard job, but they can be petty and exhausting at times.
“Cheer up, Dad. It will all be over before you know it, and you’ll be wishing you were back in the thick of the action when the moms are nagging you to do something,” I joke, and all three of my moms glare at me, but it does get my dad to smile.
“I wouldn’t joke if I were you, Gryffin.” Evie stands up and marches down the stairs, and I wince, knowing I’m in trouble. She approaches me, and I look down at her. She is the shortest of my mothers, not quite reaching the top of my shoulders, but she is no less fierce than the others. “There is a long forgotten law that if, for some reason, the chosen is injured or dies without anyheirs, the crown switches to the oldest heir of the previous ruler to rule out the remainder of the forty years.”
My mouth drops open in shock at this bombshell. “No fucking way.” I look around the room, hoping someone will tell me this is her idea of a joke, but I can tell by their faces that it isn’t.
Mom sighs, also standing up and smoothing out her dress. “It’s never happened before, but it is a backup plan. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though. I say we’re getting worked up over nothing. Let’s give it a few more days before we start getting into crisis mode.”
“We need to go about our days like nothing has changed and show our people we aren’t worried,” Mia agrees. “Our new royal will appear when the time is right for them.”
“That’s right. We are in the middle of moving all our things to our new house and having the master palace suite renovated for the new incoming royal. Since they will have six mates, some major changes needed to happen.” Mom gestures to the other six crowns, and Evie grimaces.
“Ugh, six mates. That poor person. Seriously, it was bad enough when there were three of us. All the bitching and infighting was awful.” My little blonde mother wraps her arms around my waist and leans in to me. I pat her back soothingly.
“I’m just glad none of us will be marked. I can’t imagine competing with a group of others to catch the eye of a potential mate,” I tell them as she pulls away.
My dad snorts derisively. “You have no idea. Be very glad that you are in a bond group and your perfect mate will appear one day.” He looks at his wives. “You three might have thought you had it bad, but try being the person who has to pick on top of learning that you are now ruling over a new group of people you know very little about, and add the new magic and shifting into that. It’s a complete mindfuck.” He stands up and stretches,pulling Mia up with him. “We need to make sure the bar is stocked. I’m almost positive I drank it dry during my first couple of weeks.”
“Well, at least the new royal has the four of you to advise them,” Bryson points out. “They couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Unlike me who had no one. That awful bitch refused to mentor me and instead disappeared to sulk in her new home. I refuse to do that to whoever is going to take my place.” I watch my father visibly get his shit together after his small, private break down. “Gryffin, I’d like your team to be stationed here for the first couple of weeks. The new royal will need bodyguards until they can get a handle on their shift and how to protect themselves. Hopefully once their mates are chosen, there won’t be any need for protection detail, because they will fight for their mate just like your mothers do for me.” His three wives gather around him, and I smile as my mothers fuss over him. They have always been like this in private. In public, they show the shifter people a strong, confident team, but they save their affection for family only.
My father’s words send a pang of dread through me. If I’m trapped in the castle doing royal duties for the next few weeks, I won’t be able to continue the search for our sixth bond mate, which means I need to excuse myself now. I have been told of a small village at the very end of the shifter kingdom that I never knew about. I’m starting to lose hope. Maybe my bond mates are right, and I am on a wild goose chase. They insist the witch’s reading was wrong. Why else wouldn’t our bond mate present themselves to the matching office?
When shifters receive a bond mark, they are required to present themselves to the bond office in the city so their mark can be noted down and they can be matched with others who share that mark. Not all shifters get them though, but the ones who do are usually thrilled and excited to be in a bond, because itmakes them a mini pack that is no longer beholden to the alpha of their village.
Shifters don’t live in species packs. Each town, city, or village has a head alpha all of the residents are beholden to no matter what kind of animal you present as. It is an elected position, and usually the strongest shifter in the village is chosen, but that is not always the case. Sometimes popularity or fear can play a big part in who gets elected.
I hide my annoyance. “As long as that is okay with General Bryson.” I look at my boss, praying he will not agree with my father and appoint another team, but I know that’s pretty futile. They are best friends, and if the king wants his son, then the king will get his son—both their sons actually, not that Hunter will care.
Bryson gives a quick nod.
“Alright, you’re both dismissed. Keep us updated, and as soon as the royal appears, you are all to present yourselves to the palace,” my father orders.
I give my mothers a kiss on the cheek, and we take our leave. Bryson shifts, and I ride his dragon back to night watch headquarters.
When we arrive and he shifts back, we part. “Stay close. I’m sure I’ll have another false lead for you to follow soon,” he grumbles and stomps off to the communications room to monitor the tip line. I head back to our apartment, trying to figure out how I can make the trip to the village of Zalfari.
I use my palm print to open the door and hurry toward my bedroom. If I can get out quickly before anyone notices, I might have time to make it to the village and back before the new royal even appears. They are taking their sweet time, so hopefully they hold out a little longer. I don’t want to even acknowledge the fact that I might end up as king if no human comes forward. It isn’t something I want in the least, and I don’t know whatwould happen to my bond mates if that occurred. Would they be default kings too? Would we be forced to pick a mate? No, I don’t even want to think about it.
I hurry into my room to pack. It should only take me a day, two tops, to get to Zalfari, poke around, and then run back. If I told Hunter where I was going, he would probably offer to fly me, but I don’t want to see the disappointment on his face, and I most certainly won’t ask Gem. He thinks I’m insane, and I know he’s angry with me.
“You’re back?” the phoenix I’m thinking about says flatly as he leans against the doorframe of my room. His burgundy curls are all awry, and he’s only wearing a pair of low-slung sweatpants. I feel a shot of lust go straight to my groin at the sight of his delicious flesh, but I lock that shit down tight. My desire for my bond mate makes me feel guilty, like I’m cheating on our future mate by wanting to know what his mouth tastes like and how it would feel to slide my cock into his tight heat.
Instead, I ignore him as I throw a couple of things into a bag I can easily carry in my tiger’s mouth. “What did Papa Lucas want?” he asks, unable to tamp down his curiosity. Gem is so fucking nosy.
“He’s worried that the new royal hasn’t presented themselves yet, and he put us on alert. He assigned our team to be their security until they can get up to speed,” I murmur, looking around to see if I forgot anything.
