who you are, Queen Seraphina, and I know what you are,” a gruff voice says right behind me.
After loading the last of the groceries into the back of my drop-top Jeep, I throw a blanket over the bags and turn around to find the owner of the male voice that’s a little too close for comfort. I raise my eyebrows at the bearded, shaggy-haired, heavyset man standing only a few feet away. He’s wearing a black leather vest with a Salty Dogs motorcycle patch, stained jeans and black leather boots. He looks and smells as if he hasn’t showered in a month. Glancing past him, I spy a motorcycle parked a few spaces away.
Is this guy a member of the motorcycle gang Tripp told me about? Tripp Fisher, a wolf shifter and my leader in the Carolinas, thinks the motorcycle club that just created a charter here is interested in more than just the scenic drives, crab shacks and ocean views.
I sweep the stranger for magic but don’t sense any. He’s human. “Hasn’t anyone told you that females don’t like being approached in parking lots?” I ask, giving him the stink eye.
The biker braces his hand on the back of my Jeep and leans in, locking eyes with me and exposing teeth filed down to points. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said I know who you are. What you are. And I’m not going to let you push me out of North Carolina.”
“Who and what I am is not a secret. So you should also know better than to try and intimidate me. I don’t scare easily.” What’s this human thinking? Is he on drugs or something? I could kill him where he stands, and he’d never see it coming.
He straightens and looks around before returning his eyes to mine. “Your enforcer, Tripp Fisher, paid me a visit. He doesn’t like my business setting up shop here. He tried to intimidate me first. I’m just returning the favor. An eye for an eye.”
“What exactly is your business? And I didn’t catch your name.”
“Name’s Silas Duke. And my business is a little of this and a little of that. I’m an entrepreneur. A small business owner. Just trying to make a living.” He gives me an aw-shucks look.
“Let me guess. Drugs? Prostitution? Maybe weapons and human trafficking, too? I don’t want you or your business in my territory. If Tripp gave you a warning, I highly recommend you pay attention to it.”
Silas’s face loses the fake innocent expression and hardens into stone. “We’ll have to see about that. But I got what I came for. Wanted to get a look at you. Now that I have, I’ll say so long. This isn’t goodbye. This is until we meet again.”
I check him out for power again and get a whiff of something under his body odor. I think it’s magic, but it’s swept away by the sweet ocean air before I can confirm it. He turns his back to me and walks to his motorcycle where he puts on a flat-black, low-profile helmet.
I watch Silas fire up his motorcycle and pull away. What was that about? I need to talk to Tripp.
After stopping for a bottle of wine and some beer, I treat myself to an ice-cream cone and head home. I take Highway 12 until it ends, and my Jeep bumps along the uneven sand road to our newly reconstructed shore house in Corolla. The sun caresses my skin, and the salty sea breeze sweeps my hair off my face. It’s good to be back Earthside. After six months on Avalon learning the business of being queen and practicing with my newly inherited magic, I’m back in my territory.
Letting go of the steering wheel, I push my sunglasses up my nose and then hit the brakes—a wild horse is ambling down from the dunes to the beach. The herd of wild mustangs is protected by law here and always has the right of way. Watching the horse’s shiny black coat glint in the late afternoon sun, I enjoy my ice cream as he crosses in front of my Jeep. Good thing he’s not a cat. I don’t need the bad luck.
Our shore house was burned to the ground in one of many attacks on my territory following my mother’s death and my ascending the throne. The perpetrator, my long-lost father, has been taken care of—killed by yours truly. It’s been quiet down here ever since, until recently.
Pulling into the driveway of the beach house, I can’t help but smile as a sense of home fills me. The large house is in a very private and isolated spot, hidden away in the white sand dunes and nestled right up against the Currituck National Wildlife Refuge, well away from any neighbors. The remoteness of the location contributed to the twenty-five-million-dollar price tag to rebuild—it’s not easy to get supplies out here. The house takes full advantage of the dramatic ocean views and has a rooftop widow’s walk where I watch storms roll in over the Atlantic. With its Southern charm and silvery-gray shingles that look as if they have been bleached by the sun, the house has an informal and inviting vibe.
My smile fades as my husband descends the steps of the wrap-around porch to meet me in the driveway. Busted.
Ash stops at the driver’s side door, crosses his arms over his broad chest and scowls down at me. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t drive by yourself for a while after what happened last time. At the very least, you should have had your guards with you.”
I push my sunglasses up my nose again and decide not to mention my little meet and greet with Silas Duke. “You strongly suggested I shouldn’t drive alone, but I never agreed. That little incident could have happened to anybody.”
I’m new to this whole driving thing and don’t have a license yet, but Ash has been giving me lessons. Note to self: having your husband teach you how to drive is a terrible idea and only leads to arguments. On our last outing, I had to use my magic to adjust the position of another car so I could parallel park without hitting it. The car was a police cruiser, and an officer was sitting in it at the time. Like I said, it could’ve happened to anybody.
After his cruiser became airborne and jerked forward by a couple of feet, the officer approached my car with a shouted, “What the hell was that?” I flashed him my sovereign immunity credentials, and although he gave me a stern look, he couldn’t do anything else.
Ash, on the other hand, had tried to ban me from driving by myself until I had more practice. It’s adorable when he tries to tell me what to do. The problem is, it’s not just my driving that he doesn’t like. He doesn’t want me to move a muscle without him or my guards or both. He’s hypervigilant since my recent near-death experience and thinks danger is lurking around every corner. I think he needs a hobby. He has to learn how to relax.
“You made it home safe and sound. And I haven’t heard of any pileups on Highway 12, so I guess we’ll take the win.” Ash opens the driver’s side door and nods to my ice-cream cone. “Did you bring me one?”
“I only have two hands. I thought you’d want me to keep at least one on the wheel.” I smile sweetly up at him as I get out of the Jeep.
He gives me his “I’m not amused” face. “They should have both been on the wheel.”
Ash looks as if he’s gearing up for a lecture on recklessness or road safety. Distraction time. I grab the waistband of his shorts and pull him toward me. “Want a lick?” I ask, offering him my ice-cream.
He hooks a finger in my tank top and looks down my shirt. “What I want to lick is much sweeter than that.”
I swirl my tongue around the now melting ice cream and look up at him innocently. “Are you sure?”
With shifter swiftness, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me, licking the ice cream out of my mouth.
Wrapping my arms around him and deepening the kiss, I push my boobs into his chest, instantly needy for him. It’s been a couple of weeks since we last had sex.
Ash backs me up against the side of the Jeep and slides his hands down over my shorts. He cups the sensitive skin on the backs of my legs where my thighs meet my butt before lifting me off the ground and aligning our cores.
With my ass in his hands and my back pressed against the Jeep, I roll my hips forward again and again, pressing the hard ridge of him more firmly between my legs.
Ash pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily. We hang in the moment, knowing that sexy time is not going to happen. “It’s getting harder and harder to stop.”
Ash is waiting for me to give him the green light, and I appreciate it, but sometimes I wish his will wasn’t so ironclad. “I know. For me, too. But let’s put a pin in the licking. For now.” I sigh softly.
He gives me a light kiss on the forehead before setting me on my feet and taking a step back. “I have to jump to Miami to talk to Gabriel. I’ll try not to be too long.”
Gabriel Haider is a lion shifter and our leader in Florida. I asked Gabriel to get Ash out of the house for a couple of hours today.
“Take your time. I’ll see you when you get back.” I smile, eager for him to be on his way.
