Chapter One
“Lesya, I didn't make you a princess bed so you could leave itunmadeevery day.” I waved at the ultra-feminine bed most little girls would love to have. Lavender silk hung from a golden, half-crown teester set high on the wall above the gilded, rose headboard, matching the comforter that was bunched up at the foot of the bed, flowing over the purple, padded bench there.
“Can't you just Mary Poppins it?” Lesya whined and bobbed her shoulders up and down in that way children do when they're frustrated.
“First of all, points for the movie reference and bonus points for making it into a verb,” I growled. “Second, no, I cannotMary Poppinsit. There are many things I can do, but magically making a bed isn't one of them. I mean, I can make a leaf into a bed, but I can't twirl my fingers and set your linens to rights. And even if I could, I wouldnotmake yours.”
“Why not?” She blinked her big blue eyes at me. “I'm your favorite daughter.”
“You're my only daughter—points for using that too. But you need to learn responsibility.” I bent over her. “If you want nice things, you have to take care of them. That includes putting away all of these toys after you play with them.”
I did another wave at the scattered dolls and their tiny plastic furniture. Dear Gods, I hate little plastic furniture. It always seems to wind up beneath my bare feet.
Lesya slouched and pouted.
“You're staying in this room until it's clean!” I stalked out of her bedroom and slammed the door behind me, locking it for bad measure.
Bad measure is a new expression I'm trying to make popular, just go with it.
I stomped down the tower stairs and took the door to my right that led out onto the balcony, instead of the one straight ahead of me that led into the bedroom. I needed a breath of fresh air or the next breath I let out would be fiery. I took that breath as I approached the railing, then leaned against the stone and let the sight of the Pride Lands soothe me. Above my head, I heard a little lioness pounding around her room ferociously. I maliciously hoped that she stepped on a tiny plastic chair or even worse, one of those awful Barbie shoes. Then I felt bad and hoped that didn't happen.
“Vhat has Lesya done now?” Kirill asked with a smile tinging his Russian accent.
“It's what shehasn'tdone and that would be clean her room.” I looked over at my husband—the rebellious lioness' father—as he came up beside me.
Sunlight caught in Kirill's eyes and flashed sapphire. I wasn't sure if it was just the light, though. Kirill had recently become a full god, as opposed to the demigod he was previously. He now—in addition to his Intare magic—held the magics of Death and Winter, all thanks to a connection he'd had with a goddess who he'd once been sacrificed to. Marena, AKA Marzana, had tried to kill Kirill to get to my Trinity Star but, in a fortunate twist of fate, he had killed her instead and taken her magic. Yeah, it was a case of the human turning things around on the god, and I was all for it. Especially since the human—or ex-human, rather—was my husband.
“How's the magic, O' Lion God of Death and Winter?” I asked him.
“Calm.” Kirill leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Did you vorry zis much about Trevor ven he became god?”
“IgaveTrevor his god magic,” I countered. “I knew what it could and couldn't do to him.”
“And still, it surprised us.”
Kirill was referring to the change that godhood had made in Trevor. A change we hadn't realized was tied to his godhood until Kirill went through his own changes. The god magic had made Kirill his own power source—the fount of his magic and therefore his immortal life—and that had altered the Intare magic that was already inside him. Now, Kirill can take a half form, shifting parts of his body into lion parts or becoming a werelion, as opposed to the full lion that the rest of the Intare—myself included—are limited to. Trevor, who already had a werewolf form, changed in a different way.
All Froekn have wolves inside them—animal aspects that only emerge when they're in full wolf form—but sometimes, when a Froekn is threatened, the wolf will take over to protect the man. It's called an eclipse and it happened to Trevor. Except we didn't realize that Trevor's wolf had also been strengthened by the god magic I'd given him, that of Dark Dominion: control over night creatures. The magic had made Trevor's wolf into more than an aspect of himself; it had become a sort of split personality that Trevor could shift into at will. And another thing we hadn't considered was that Trevor was now also his own source of magic—a part of the Froekn and yet separate, no longer reliant on Fenrir, their god and his father—just like Kirill with the Intare and me.
“Yes, it surprised us, but it didn't hurt Trevor. Your magic is more powerful, honey, and more volatile.”
“More volatile zan volf?” Kirill lifted a teasing brow at me.
I stared him down.
“Stop vorrying, Tima.” He moved behind me, wrapped his body around mine, and nestled his face into the curve of my neck. “All is vell. I know Death and I know Vinter. Zey cannot surprise me. Just relax and enjoy zis peace.”
That's when my phone rang.
I tensed. Kirill swore in Russian but let me go.
“You had to go and tempt the Fates,” I growled at him.
“Who vould call?” He asked as I ran for my cellphone. “Everyone knows it's hard to take calls in God Realm.”
“I don't know but I'm pretty damn sure I'm not going to like what they have to say.” I picked up the phone and answered it warily, “Hello?”
“Ver... Austin... I...” a voice with a Texan drawl crackled into gibberish.
