The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince (Heirs of Magic #1) - Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,1
and tugging him toward the water. “Try for a fish form. Just once. For me.” She batted the lush fringe of her black lashes, pushing her crimson lips into an enticing pout.
He managed to extract his hand from her grip, his fingers burning with the desire to touch her more and more and more. “You know I can’t.”
Punching her fists on her hips, she stood in the ankle-deep surf, eyes flashing with impatience. “You could do more forms when you were a boy. That means you still can.”
“That’s not true,” he countered, packing up their picnic things. They’d have a bit of a walk back to the cliff city, and people would be waiting for him. Ursula had drilled into him the importance of being on time. “You know that many Tala explore forms they never take again. I’m happy with my grizzly bear. That’s more than most people in the world have.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, frowning at his actions. “It can’t be time to go back yet.”
“I have to meet with King Rayfe and Queen Andromeda,” he reminded her. “Duty calls,” he added with what he hoped was a charming grin—though it did nothing to alleviate her annoyance.
“Astar, this is your last day in Annfwn. You promised me a picnic.”
He held up the empty basket in demonstration. “And picnic we did. You can stay and play, but I have responsibilities.”
She swooped up to him, too fast for him to dodge, and set her palms flat on his bare chest, her sapphire eyes glittering with irritation. “You always have responsibilities.”
It was true. Being heir demanded a great deal—and Astar lived in dread of not being up to the job, of disappointing all the people who believed in him. Something the enviably carefree Zephyr could never understand. Her nails scratched lightly over his skin, and her scent, like tropical flowers blooming in high mountain air, made him want to wrap his arms around her and inhale all she offered. Something else his duties kept him from indulging in.
“Stay and play with me,” she purred invitingly, palms flattening to caress his chest, answering desire thrumming through him. “Just a little longer. You can have all the boring meetings you like… later.”
With a groan, he wrenched himself from her alluring touch, covering it with a laugh. “I can’t,” he told her with determination, sweeping up the last of his things and turning his back firmly to her.
“You mean you won’t,” she called after him, frustration ripe in her voice.
That was also true. Zephyr could never be his, and he could never be hers. As heir to the high throne, he’d have to make a marriage of state with whoever they picked for him—and Her Majesty would never choose a half-wild Tala girl with a First Form most people thought existed only in myth. Far better never to start an affair that would only break him when it ended.
Zephyr, of course, would be fine. She always was, brighter and better than life itself.
“You can run from me, Astar, but I swear that one day I’ll get you to break your stupid rules!” she yelled.
He lifted a hand in farewell, in acknowledgment. If he let Zephyr get him alone again, she’d no doubt wear him down. So he’d have to make sure she didn’t get the opportunity.
“Mark my words,” her taunting voice carried on the ocean breeze. “You will be mine! You already are, you just don’t know it yet.”
The problem was, he knew that all too well. And it didn’t change anything.
~ 1 ~
Seven Years Later
A chill of foreboding ran down Astar’s spine as the footman relayed the urgent summons. Though Astar was as magical as a clod of dirt, it didn’t take sorcery to know that it was bad news when the high queen commands her heir’s immediate attendance. And that it would have to be especially terrible news to draw Her Majesty from the anniversary celebration of her long reign. The festival ball had been going most of the night, and no one in the vast crowd thronging Castle Ordnung was in any shape to be handling anything but another celebratory toast.
Case in point, Astar’s quite drunken companions burst into laughing protests at the footman’s message. Not that they ever took much seriously, much to the dismay of their parents and mentors.
“Surely we don’t all have to go,” Astar’s cousin immediately argued. “His Highness Crown Prince Astar is the dutiful heir,” Rhy said, giving Astar a lethally innocent grin. “Let