Gray went to her in the night, his heart pounding with excitement and love.

She would be waiting for him, cloaked in the moonlight and the trees in the thick forest. He could smell her essence on the soft breeze and knew that she was as eager ashe was; the thou ght pushed him to incredible speeds across the barrenlawn of the centuries-oldmonastery. He sprang through the foliage, ignoring the branches and brambles that pulled at his skin and hisdark T-shirt. He didn t think about the consequences of his actions or the duty of his family. He was only consumed with imagesof her, memories of the way she d f elt in his arms, the way she d tasted and smelled, the way she d rasped his name in the hea t of passion. Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all. And then she was there, her rich auburn hair luminous in the night, her alabaste r skin a beacon through the dark. She turned to him,her reliefand joy nearlytangible as she pierced his heart as well as his libido with her green eyes. Julia, he breathed, his feet skidding to a stop in the soft grass. Gray, she replied, her full lipscurving into a bright smile. They were immediatelydrawn together, as always. Their bodies collided as they hurried toward each other, their mouths fusing together in a heated, blood-stirr ing embrace. Time stopped for them, its hands simply ceasing in the face of the overwhelming need that emanated from the two lovers. Their tongues met, tangled, laved, and entwined ag ain. Arms enfoldedbodies, hands roamed flushing skin, and guttural, sexual sounds rose int o the heavy air. Drawing on all his willpower, Gray pulled away a few precious inches, his breath hitching as he studied the glorious beauty in his arms. 2 Flesa Black Julia, I have to leave, tomorrow, he told her, his gut twisting when he saw the dreadedspear of desolation that shot through her gaze. I don t want you to, she replied, her voice filled with fear. Please, please just sta y with me, Gray. I can t. I want to, he assured her as he tenderlypulled her against his racing heart , but I can t. I have togoback to myfamily; I have to tell them that I ve found my mate . I have to do this if we re going to be together. Can t you just call them? Or you can takeme with you, she added, her striking featuresilluminating with hope as she looked upat him. I know I sound selfish, bu t I don t care. I love you, and I can t stand tothink of being away from you for even an hou r. I wish I could, sweetheart, more than you ll ever know, but I can t. This has to be done within the family,face to face. If I called, it wouldn t be the same, and it would be an insult to my uncle Brody. If I took you without having myuncle s blessing, they wo uld consider you an interloper. You would be treated like an enemy; they would shun you, maybe evenphysically attack you if they thought they had a reason. Since they do

n t know you, they d think of you more as a danger instead of my fiance. Slowly, Julia let out a deep, resigned sigh. I know you re right; I just don t like i t. You warned me this was coming. I just wasn t surewhen. I wish you would have said some thing to me before about speaking to yourfamily and making arrangements to leave, thou gh. My uncle called this morning, so I jumped atthe chance to tell him that we needed to talk about something important, he explained,twisting inside over the fact that h e d slighted her unintentionally. How long will you be? One, two weeks at the most. I need to ... set some things up with my cousin Mark. But I won t be there any longer than I have to, he promised. It s going to take a lot of w ork and diplomacy to convince my uncle that you are the best choice I could make for a m ate. But I swear to you, as soon as he gives me his permission, I ll come back to you. He cupped her face in his large, calloused hand, softening when she nuzzled her silky cheek against his palm. He wanted to tell her the whole truth; that he wasn t just an average lycan who was requesting permission to take a mate outside of his own kind. He w as going to have to leave the pack, and for someone in his position, it wasn t going to be an easy process. He was the only surviving child of his father, the man who had, through birthrig ht, been the alpha of thepowerful American Lycan Pack. Gray s uncle had taken overleadership af ter his older brother had died,taking in Gray, grooming him to become the alpha when the time was right. He had resigned himself to his fate years ago -- and then he d met Juli a. Sweet, hot-tempered, stubborn, lust-inducing Julia. He d wanted her since the firs t time he d seen her roaming the grounds with Abram. She d shown like a wild rose amon g thickets and weeds, her full, rich laughter carrying over the sun-drenched walls ofthe timeworn monastery. The sound had brought him tohis window, compelling hi m to Maddock didn t tell him the route they were brothers, after all then it wouldn t have be en very hard to discover it. Elmsworth may ve made him privy to it himself. He would ve had to get the information to the French, Munroe pointed out. Reynaud shrugged, pushing away his tankard of ale altogether. He was in Quebec. D o you remember? It was swarming with the French troops we d captured, French citizen s, and Indians who d supported both sides. It was chaos. He could ve done it easily, Hartley said. The question now is did he indeed do it? We have supposition and conjecture but no real facts. Then we ll have to find the facts, Reynaud said grimly. Agreed? The other men nodded. Agreed, they said in unison. To discovering the truth, Vale said, and raised his tankard. They all raised their tankards and knocked them together, solemnizing the toast.

Reynaud toasted the sentiment with the rest. He drained his tankard and slammed it down on the table. And to seeing the traitor swing, goddamn his eyes. Hear, hear! Another round on me, Reynaud called. Vale leaned close, blasting Reynaud with the ale on his breath. Shouldn t a newly wedded man such as yourself go home? Reynaud scowled. I ll go home soon. Vale wagged his shaggy eyebrows. Had a falling-out with the missus? None of your goddamned business! Reynaud hid his face in his tankard of ale, but when he lowered it, Vale was still staring at him rather blearily. And had it no t been for the ale, Reynaud probably wouldn t have said, She thinks I don t know how to care, if you must know. Doesn t she know you care for her? Hartley asked from across the table. Wonderful. Both he and Munroe had been listening in like a pair of gossiping bid dies. Munroe stirred. She needs to know, man. Go home, Vale said solemnly. Go home and tell her you love her. And for the very first time Reynaud began to think that Vale s romantic advice mig ht just might be correct. Chapter Eighteen Now, although Princess Serenity had married Longsword as a reward for saving her father, she had, in the many months she had lived with him, come to love her husband dee ply. Hearing his terrible fate, she became quiet and withdrawn, contemplating silentl y what this news meant to her. And, after many long walks in the castle garden, she came to a decision: she would offer herself to the Goblin King in Longsword s stead. And so, on the night before Longsword was to return to the kingdom of the goblin s, Princess Serenity drugged Longsword s wine. As her husband slept, she kissed him tenderly a nd then set out to meet the Goblin King . from Longsword Seven years of planning. Seven years of careful moves on a giant chessboard. Som e of them so infinitesimally small that even his most intelligent enemies had been blind to t heir true meaning. Seven years that should have culminated in his becoming prime minister and the d e facto leader of the most powerful country on earth. Seven years of patient waiting and secret lusting. Seven years destroyed in one afternoon by one man Reynaud St. Aubyn. He d seen the knowledge in Hartley s eyes when he d mentioned Thomas. Poor, poor Thomas. His brother had never been cut out for greatness. Why should Thomas have the title when it would serve him so much better? But now that old decision had come back to haunt him. Vale, Blanchard, Hartley, and Munroe. All in London at once, all putting th eir heads together. Hasselthorpe could read the writing on the wall. It was only a matter of time before they had him arrested. All because St. Aubyn had returned home. He glared across the carriage at his en emy s wife. Beatrice St. Aubyn, Countess of Blanchard now, ne Corning. Little Beatrice

Corning sat across from him bound and gagged. Her eyes were closed over the cloth tied acros s her mouth. Perhaps she slept, but he doubted it. He d never really paid much attention to her before, besides noting that Maddock d idn t tell him the route they were brothers, after all then it wouldn t have been very hard to discover it. Elmsworth may ve made him privy to it himself. He would ve had to get the information to the French, Munroe pointed out. Reynaud shrugged, pushing away his tankard of ale altogether. He was in Quebec. D o you remember? It was swarming with the French troops we d captured, French citizen s, and Indians who d supported both sides. It was chaos. He could ve done it easily, Hartley said. The question now is did he indeed do it? We have supposition and conjecture but no real facts. Then we ll have to find the facts, Reynaud said grimly. Agreed? The other men nodded. Agreed, they said in unison. To discovering the truth, Vale said, and raised his tankard. They all raised their tankards and knocked them together, solemnizing the toast. Reynaud toasted the sentiment with the rest. He drained his tankard and slammed it down on the table. And to seeing the traitor swing, goddamn his eyes. Hear, hear! Another round on me, Reynaud called. Vale leaned close, blasting Reynaud with the ale on his breath. Shouldn t a newly wedded man such as yourself go home? Reynaud scowled. I ll go home soon. Vale wagged his shaggy eyebrows. Had a falling-out with the missus? None of your goddamned business! Reynaud hid his face in his tankard of ale, but when he lowered it, Vale was still staring at him rather blearily. And had it no t been for the ale, Reynaud probably wouldn t have said, She thinks I don t know how to care, if you must know. Doesn t she know you care for her? Hartley asked from across the table. Wonderful. Both he and Munroe had been listening in like a pair of gossiping bid dies. Munroe stirred. She needs to know, man. Go home, Vale said solemnly. Go home and tell her you love her. And for the very first time Reynaud began to think that Vale s romantic advice mig ht just might be correct. Chapter Eighteen Now, although Princess Serenity had married Longsword as a reward for saving her father, she had, in the many months she had lived with him, come to love her husband dee ply. Hearing his terrible fate, she became quiet and withdrawn, contemplating silentl y what this news meant to her. And, after many long walks in the castle garden, she came to a decision: she would offer herself to the Goblin King in Longsword s stead. And so, on the night before Longsword was to return to the kingdom of the goblin s, Princess Serenity drugged Longsword s wine. As her husband slept, she kissed him tenderly a nd then set out to meet the Goblin King . from Longsword Seven years of planning. Seven years of careful moves on a giant chessboard. Som e of them so

infinitesimally small that even his most intelligent enemies had been blind to t heir true meaning. Seven years that should have culminated in his becoming prime minister and the d e facto leader of the most powerful country on earth. Seven years of patient waiting and secret lusting. Seven years destroyed in one afternoon by one man Reynaud St. Aubyn. He d seen the knowledge in Hartley s eyes when he d mentioned Thomas. Poor, poor Thomas. His brother had never been cut out for greatness. Why should Thomas have the title when it would serve him so much better? But now that old decision had come back to haunt him. Vale, Blanchard, Hartley, and Munroe. All in London at once, all putting th eir heads together. Hasselthorpe could read the writing on the wall. It was only a matter of time before they had him arrested. All because St. Aubyn had returned home. He glared across the carriage at his en emy s wife. Beatrice St. Aubyn, Countess of Blanchard now, ne Corning. Little Beatrice Corning sat across from him bound and gagged. Her eyes were closed over the cloth tied acros s her mouth. Perhaps she slept, but he doubted it. He d never really paid much attention to her before, besides noting that she made a good hostess for her uncle s political parties. She was pleasant enough to look at, he supposed, but she was no immortal beauty. Hardly the type a man might choose to die for. He grunted and glanced out the window. The night was black with barely any moonl ight, and he couldn t make out where they might be. He let the curtain fall. However, he knew by the number of hours they d traveled that they must be nearing his estate in Hampshire. He d told Blanchard that he d wait until dawn and he would; the boat he d arranged to pick him up at Portsmouth wouldn t come until eight. He could wait until dawn and no longer befor e fleeing to the prearranged rendezvous spot. First to France and then perhaps Prussia or even the East Indies. A man could change his name and start a new life in the more remote corn ers of the world. And with enough capital, he might even make his fortune again. If he had enough capital. Damnably stupid he could see that now tying up most of his monies in investments. Oh, they were good investments, solid investments that wo uld yield a healthy return, but that wasn t much good to him at the moment, was it? He had a l ittle cash,she made a good hostess for her uncle s political parties. She was pleasant enough to look at, he supposed, but she was no immortal beauty. Hardly the type a man might choose to die for. He grunted and glanced out the window. The night was black with barely any moonl ight, and he couldn t make out where they might be. He let the curtain fall. However, he knew by the number of hours they d traveled that they must be nearing his estate in Hampshire. He d told Blanchard that he d wait until dawn and he would; the boat he d arranged to pick him

up at Portsmouth wouldn t come until eight. He could wait until dawn and no longer befor e fleeing to the prearranged rendezvous spot. First to France and then perhaps Prussia or even the East Indies. A man could change his name and start a new life in the more remote corn ers of the world. And with enough capital, he might even make his fortune again. If he had enough capital. Damnably stupid he could see that now tying up most of his monies in investments. Oh, they were good investments, solid investments that wo uld yield a healthy return, but that wasn t much good to him at the moment, was it? He had a l ittle cash,