11. Cole

"Come. Let me show you my home… your new home.

Henri gave me his hand, and I led him first to the throne room. It was rarely used, except for investitures and coronations, and the latter wouldn't occur until the king abdicated or he passed, neither of which I wanted to happen. My father was a difficult man, but I liked having him on this earth, living and breathing.

Putting a finger to my lips, we crept toward the thrones, and I sat in the monarch's and Henri in the consort's.

"Should we be doing this?" he whispered, his eyes twinkling for the first time since we met. "I'm guessing not."

"Not."

But what would the courtiers do if they found me other than reporting me to the king? Nothing. I'd get a tongue-lashing at most. That I could deal with as I'd been dealt them all my life. Henri and I were bonding over doing something naughty, and I'd catapult the gargoyles, whose heads jutted out over the forecourt, into space and swing from the chandeliers if it ensured Henri never cried again.

"Can we take a pic?"

"Only if you never share it with anyone other than your husband."

"Husband and mate," he corrected me.

Putting our heads together, he snapped a photo, and we studied it. It showed two young men, laughter on their lips and a light in their eyes. I'd treasure the photo until my dying breath.

"Where to now?"

He'd been in the chapel, ballroom, and the huge state dining room, so I led him along a mirrored hall and into another stateroom where I lay on the floor. Henri closed one eye and said the floor didn't look comfortable, but if it was a bed I wanted, he'd gladly share mine.

I wanted to drag him to my suite and undress him slowly, relishing his body before fucking him, but we'd had such a rocky start, I was determined to take it slow.

"Look up."

His mouth formed a huge O as he gazed at the frescoes depicting shifters in human and animal form.

"It's stunning, but what do humans say about the men becoming animals?"

So many similar paintings in castles, palaces, and cathedrals were of angels or otherworldly beings; animals transforming to men didn't seem a huge stretch, and humans marveled at the skill of the artists.

"They appreciate the artistry, not knowing that it shows real life and not a fantasy."

"Cole!" My father's ice-cold voice was a sign of his displeasure.

Poor Henri began to shake, and he leaped to his feet and bowed to the king. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, Your Majesty."

A thundering rage filled me as I got up and placed an arm around my husband. Ignoring Father's warning gaze, I straightened my spine as he'd always told me to do.

"I'm showing my husband, the man you arranged for me to marry, around his new home. Do you have any objections, Father?"

The tips of the king's ears reddened, and he fisted his hands, but I ignored his anger. Henri trembled beside me, and I held him close.

"Stop referring to him as your husband. We're all shifters here. You are mates, are you not?"

"You told him?" Henri turned to me.

Damn, I was hoping to keep that detail a secret a while longer so I could keep Father out of our lives during the so-called honeymoon period.

"No. But one thing you'll learn about a palace is there are no secrets."

"Thank gods for that. How long were you planning on keeping this a secret?" Father glanced up at the ceiling and looked away. He'd never appreciated the dedication and skill it had taken the artists to perfect the frescoes. Like the kings of old, he saw their devotion to their creativity as loyalty, because hadn't the goddess put our family on earth to rule and informed everyone we were special?

That was the lie I'd been fed all my life. We were no better than any of our "subjects."

"Was there something you wanted, Father?"

The king narrowed his eyes. He wasn't used to me disrespecting him.

"I want you to mark." He turned to Henri who cowered behind me. "I suppose you're the hold-up. It's a simple process; you have sex, mark one another, and it's done. That was the way your papa and I did it, Cole."

Him bringing up Papa and comparing them to us rankled me, and I ground my teeth, something I did when I was stressed. But him blaming my mate had me fuming and tempted to punch his nose.

"Father, Henri is my husband and my mate-to-be. When we are ready, we will mate." I made sure to emphasize we. Henri and I might have not been mated, but we were a pair and standing shoulder to shoulder against the outside world, and that included the king and his asshat courtiers who had spied on us and informed him we hadn't mated.

Father's nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes. I could take whatever he dished out, but I regretted that my new husband had to witness it.

"Just get it done," he spat out, turning on his heel and storming out of the state room.

Henri turned to me, tears in his eyes, and when one trickled over his cheek, I caught it. "Please don't cry." I held up my finger, wet at the tip with my husband's tear. "You are my husband, and I will protect you from my father's wrath and the courtiers' backstabbing." I jerked my head at my wet fingertip. "What shall I do with this?"

He peered at it. "There's not much left to do anything with." He grinned and blinked away the unshed tears.

"It will be symbolic." I led him onto the balcony. There were some tourists milling about outside the gates, and they pointed their phones at us. I grabbed Henri's hand, and we tossed the tear into the air. The tourists thought we were waving at them, and they flapped their hands and took more pics.

"What now?" Henri asked, as spots of pink appeared on his cheeks.