Vengeance of a Queen: The Resurrection of Queens, Book 2
Vengeance of a Queen: Chapter 3

I remember feeling Ayla’s emotions through the bond when she first found Caleb, the ones she didn’t want to admit to, even to herself. I also remember thinking I wouldn’t feel that way about my mate—all soft and girly with little hearts flying over my head, or like I needed to jump his bones right that minute or explode.

Dios Mío. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The need to feel his skin against mine rages through my body. The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that Ayla and Caleb, along with a hundred or so others, are right outside. But that doesn’t stop me from sliding my hands up Malcolm’s chest and into his hair. I’ve never really been one for long hair on men, but it’s quickly becoming a weakness. I can see why men like long hair on women, because having something to hold on to is sexy as hell.

His fingers drop from my chin, and both hands land on my hips, pulling me flush against him as our tongues start dueling. We kiss as though we’ll never be able to touch each other again, as though we’re the only two people left on this earth—hell, in this galaxy. I know we don’t have long before someone knocks on the cottage door, but I can’t seem to drag myself away from him. He kissed me for the first time months ago and has kissed me twice in the last few hours. It’s almost as if I’m afraid to let go of him and have him take months before he kisses me again.

I’d combust if that happened.

My panther is clawing at me, desperate to mark her mate and bask in the knowledge that this man is ours. She had been surprisingly quiet while Ayla and I had been on our little vision quest, but now…now she’s all teeth and claws, screaming at me not to let him leave this room without first making it clear that he will never touch another female the way he’s touching us now.

Malcolm nibbles on my lower lip, pulling me out of my battle with my panther as shivers race down my spine. Just as I’m about to retaliate and sink my teeth into his lip, he pulls away to lean his forehead against mine. I can feel his breath against my face as he pants quietly, and when I glance up, his eyes capture mine and hold me hostage.

“I’m trying to give you space.” His voice is low and strained.

He’s what?

Who the fuck said I wanted or needed space?

Does this mean we could have had him as our mate months ago? My panther sounds just as pissed as I feel. I’m getting ready to pimp slap him.

That’s exactly what it sounds like, cabrón. My answer is a low growl. I’m sure someone else might have appreciated that he held himself back the last few months because of the transition, but it would have made everything easier if I had him with me. Yes, he’s been training me, but he wasn’t there during the long, lonely nights when I sat awake, trying to make heads or tails of what all of this meant for me. I didn’t have anyone to talk to.

And he still wants to hold himself back, my panther seethes. I know I had just decided to take some initiative here, but how the hell do I get him to change his mind if he’s determined to “give me space?” What a load of bullshit.

I pull back from him, moving far enough away so he isn’t touching me and can’t touch me again without crossing the room. If he wants to give me space, then I’ll make sure there’s a hell of a lot of space. My panther growls low inside me. We both know I’m being petty right now, but I’m hurt. I want to lash out, but know if I do so without thinking, I could ruin everything. Goddess, this whole mate thing is terrible. No mames.

I look over at Malcolm, who’s now standing on the other end of the room appearing almost lost. My heart clenches, and I want to go to him, but his words still echo in my mind. The need to comfort wars with the need to punch him in the throat.

“I never said I wanted or needed space,” I hiss, my words coming out sharper than I intended. Frankly, I’m surprised I said anything at all. “You made that assumption without consulting me.” Okay, so we’re planting the flag. Cool.

“You just found out you’re a queen. Your powers have just been unlocked. I’m not about to add to that.” He’s got this stubborn expression on his face, and the urge to throat punch him grows. “You need to learn how to handle your powers, not get caught up in anything else.”

“Like a hunt for a prophecy and other missing queens?” Two can play at this game. I cross my arms and cock out my hip. “Because I don’t see how going on this little jaunt is training me in my new powers, but please, explain to the little woman who can’t make decisions on her own.”

Watching Malcolm turn an interesting shade of purple gives me a sick sense of pleasure. He knows I have him trapped, and while I don’t like being “that girl,” I’m also not about to have him treat me like a damn piece of china that needs to be kept on a shelf. If he’s afraid of me, and he should be, that’s on him. Let’s not be placing blame anywhere else but squarely where it needs to be.

“You are not a little woman who can’t make her own decisions,” he says at last, “but you don’t need the distraction right now.”

“I don’t need the distraction? Or you don’t need the distraction?” I never realized my voice could hit this octave.

“I—” He’s saved when Ayla opens the door and pokes her head into the room.

“As much as I’d love to give you two all the time in the world to do the nasty, we need to talk about what happened and what our game plan is.” She looks between us, her eyes narrowing. “And don’t think I’m not going to ask about this.” She points at us. “There’s a lot of space in there.” Her head disappears and the door closes again.

I don’t give Malcolm a chance to say anything as I head to the door. He needs to figure his shit out, and I’m not going to do it for him. I’m not going to go easy on him either. He wants to give me space, so I’m going to show him just how difficult that’s going to be. He pissed me off and brought out my petty bitch, so we’re about to go to war.

I’m standing next to Ayla when Malcolm makes his way out of the cottage. He quickly moves to stand opposite me, unable to meet my eyes. Pendejo. I roll my eyes and return my focus to Ayla.

“So what did you see when you touched the mark on the mantel?” Caleb glances between us. “You just froze and wouldn’t respond to anything. It was freaky as hell.”

“At first we were observing a battle,” I explain, “but things kept changing.” Ayla nods. We launch into our description of what happened. Caleb and Malcolm remain silent but attentive the entire time.

“Seven dark creatures fighting against the gods…” Malcolm murmurs, lost in thought and once again playing with his glasses. “The gods then said they needed to banish them. What the hell does Härja mean?” He whips out his phone and starts typing. “Ravage. It’s a Swedish word.”

“Want to share what’s going through your mind with the class?” Caleb’s voice jars Malcolm out of his musings.

“There are a lot of different theologies and lore here. It’s not that easy to make heads or tails of it all.” Malcolm starts to pace. “Their eyes seemed similar?” We nod. “It’s possible they are a similar species. Maybe different races. Then there’s the fact that it took multiple deities to take on a single one of these Härja. And where did they banish them to?”

“And how does all of this play into the prophecy?” Ayla remarks. “The goddesses told me that Malick wasn’t our main enemy. Is he in league with one of these Härja? This is also the second time I’ve been called a Fate, but I thought those were Greek goddesses, the ladies who cut the string of a mortal’s life.”

“I’m relaying all of this to Connor,” Caleb informs us. “He and Kelly can do some research. It’s good she was there to see some of this firsthand.”

“Anyone else feel like we just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire?” I look around. “Because it seems like we’re pawns in a game where it’s just our lives on the line. I’d kind of like some answers.”

“Why couldn’t Brigid say all of this when I saw her while I was held by Malick?” Ayla runs a hand through her hair. “We could see it, but she couldn’t tell me about it? Why is all of this so convoluted?”

I throw my hands up. “Hell if I know!”

“This is so frustrating.” Ayla looks ready to murder someone—not that I can blame her, I’d love to maul something also.

“Why don’t we take a break and get ourselves set up in the manor?” Malcolm suggests, casting a look at me that I can’t quite interpret. “I think we could all use some downtime before we hash this out. Besides, it’ll take some time for Connor and Kelly to do research.”

“You’re right,” I grumble with a glance at Ayla. “We’re not going to be able to solve this here and now. Girls’ night?”

Ayla grins broadly at me, thrilled with the idea. “Absolutely.”

“Hey!” Caleb protests, but Ayla shoots him a death glare, and he glowers at her with his arms crossed over his chest. “Fine.”

Malcolm opens a portal that only jumps us a few miles away. The manor is owned by the Council and is larger than the packhouse back home. While we could just portal home, this doesn’t take as much effort for the caster and is easier on the rest of us, since jumping between time zones over and over again is a bitch. My mouth drops open when I get my first good look at the manor. It’s a freaking castle! I’m about to sleep in an honest to goodness castle. My inner five-year-old is squealing with glee right now.

“You didn’t tell me we were staying in a castle, asshole.” I hear Ayla’s punch land somewhere on Caleb, and I can’t quite hide my cackle.

“You and Olivia are queens. It seemed appropriate.”

Ayla grumbles at his response, and I have to fight to keep myself from grinning like an idiot.

My gaze once again finds Malcolm. He’s watching me intently. My brow lifts as I hold his stare, but he only continues to watch me. Fuck it. Let him watch. I flip my hair over my shoulder and strut into the manor.

“Bedrooms are on the third floor,” he states, not far behind me. “Caleb and Ayla are the first door on the right. Feel free to choose any of the others.”

Without glancing back at him, I give him a thumbs-up and head upstairs. He wants to be a pain in my ass, okay. But I’m a motherfucking queen. He’s going to learn that I’m the biggest royal pain in the ass ever.

Later that night, Ayla and I created a blanket and pillow fort in one of the sitting rooms. We’ve got popcorn and witch wine, we’re in our pajamas, and we are wasted. It’s nice just to hang out with her, especially after everything we’ve been through. I’ve missed just sitting around her house or the packhouse with a glass of wine. It feels as though we haven’t had any time to just be friends since she challenged Morgan. We need to decompress, reaffirm our friendship, and just have a night where we don’t need to worry about being killed.

Ayla starts humming the first few bars of “Sweet but Psycho” by Ava Max, and since I’ve just emptied another bottle of witch wine into my cup, I decide to get into it and use the wine bottle as my mic. “Oh, she’s sweet but a psycho! A little bit psycho!”

Ayla joins in with a giggle. “Grab a cop kinda crazy! She’s poison but tasty!”

We dissolve into a fit of giggles before Ayla straightens. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“White girl wasted karaoke?”

“Yes!” Ayla screams out in joy. I hear two sets of footsteps outside of the sitting room, but we’re happy in our little ladies only fort, so I don’t bother to try to see who’s watching our drunken shenanigans.

The mate bond, though, doesn’t let me ignore the fact that Malcolm is one of the people poking their heads in to watch us, so I take out my phone and connect it to the Bluetooth speakers in the room to blast “Blow Your Mind (Mwah)” by Dua Lipa. Ayla and I stand, dancing and getting into the music. We get a verse in and hit the chorus when I turn to stare Malcolm dead in the eye as I sing.

If you don’t like the way I talk, then why am I on your mind?

If you don’t like the way I rock, then finish your glass of wine

We fight and we argue, you’ll still love me blind

If we don’t fuck this whole thing up

Guaranteed, I can blow your mind

Mwah!

I finish by blowing a kiss and shooting Malcolm a wink. This sends Ayla into hysterics, and she screams, “Savage!”

We collapse onto our pillows in a fit of giggles. Caleb comes in, chuckling softly, to tell us that ladies’ night has come to an end. He picks up a still giggling Ayla and carries her out of the room. I’m still flopped on my mountain of pillows, giggling quietly to myself, when Malcolm appears over me. The look in his eyes instantly quiets my giggles as he leans down to scoop me up.

Shocked, I gape at him as he hauls me tightly against his chest, my arms wrapping quickly around his neck. The heat of his body seeps into me, causing my already slightly fuzzy head to become more muddled. I can’t stop the purr that starts to vibrate my entire body as his scent envelops me. It’s like he’s a drug I can’t get enough of.

“You’re wrong,” he says quietly. “You’re the drug.”

Shit. Did I say that out loud? I blink up at him, my mind occupied with trying to resist melting into him as my purr still reverberates in my chest.

Not out loud. His voice is a low rumble in my head, a caress I didn’t know I wanted or needed until that moment. The bond is already forming.

My brain stalls out for a moment. The mate bond? I vaguely remember Ayla rage venting about the mate bond starting to form without her knowledge because it’s what queens do…and I’m a queen now. Typically, shifters don’t form the bond until they’ve fully accepted each other, both emotionally and physically. Ayla mentioned she’d been surprised at how fast the bond had formed without her knowing. This must be what she was talking about.

I’m distracted when Malcolm starts climbing the stairs to get to my bedroom. My attention is drawn to his neck. His scent is thick there, so I lean in to drag my tongue from his collarbone to his ear. His hands tighten against my body, and I hear his heart rate pick up. Emboldened, I nibble lightly on his earlobe and gently dig my nails into the back of his neck.

He rewards my efforts with a ragged moan and a low curse.

I’m quickly placed on my feet once we reach the landing, my back pressed to a wall. Dimly, I realize that my purr is still vibrating my chest, but that’s not nearly as important as the fact that Malcolm’s body is now pressed flush against mine.

“I won’t take you for the first time while you’re drunk,” he rumbles against my ear. “But fuck if I won’t taste you before I tuck you into for the night.”

My ovaries perk up and scream, “Yes please!” as his head lowers to mine. This kiss isn’t soft. This kiss is meant to be a claim, and I liquify against him. Our tongues battle as Malcolm grinds his hips, and a rather large erection, against me. I’m tall enough that I’m able to arch my hips in response and feel him hit just the right spot through my shorts.

I moan into the kiss, tangling my hands in his hair to keep him in place. Mierda, I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I can feel, taste, smell, and see. Our eyes remain open and locked on one another as we battle for dominance with our tongues, but it’s not nearly enough. My panther is pacing inside me, wanting to mark her mate to warn off any other females.

I can feel the swirl of his magic flair, and mine leaps joyously to join his. I knew the joining of mates could be intense, but this is another level. I hadn’t realized magic could mingle like this, sending pleasant jolts throughout my body.

Malcolm pulls his lips from mine, and I’m mildly embarrassed at the small whimper that escapes me. But I shouldn’t have worried. His lips start to trail down my neck as his hand slides down my body, playing with one of my nipples through my thin tank top. My head falls back against the wall as I expose my neck, something shifters only do for mates or alphas. I release his hair to dig my fingers into his shoulders as his hand continues farther south.

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