Beth lowered her book and turned to stare past the muscled goon and out the tinted passenger window. A convoy of black SUVs had arrived to retrieve her at the airport and a gaggle of soldiers had shadowed her ever since. Everything she owned was packed neatly and tightly in the five rolling suitcases in the storage area of the Suburban.

She’d left behind many beloved books and sincerely hoped her husband-to-be would be willing to replace them. She’d known from a very young age that she belonged to the Fire Elemental’s Heir, however, she’d never met the Prince face-to-face. Other than a few pictures, she had no idea just what kind of person she would spend the rest of her life with.

She’d heard that he was a soldier in the Human military and that told her that he was a very loyal person. She just hoped that trait applied to his personal life as well. Having been raised under the Ancient Laws, Beth knew that most Princes took multiple lovers in an effort to replenish their numbers. Although he could only mate one female, physically he could take as many concubines as he wanted. Seeing as though the female numbers were next to none, she hoped she’d at least have him to herself for the better part of the next century.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly what men of his stature looked for in a mate. At five-feet-eleven inches tall, Beth was what most would call a “healthy woman.” She’d developed long before other girls her age - Dragon or Human. She wasn’t ashamed of her voluptuous figure, she just hoped her fiancé wouldn’t mind the few extra pounds.

After Beth and Wesley’s union, all Four Factions would have dual leaders and babies wouldn’t be far behind. It wouldn’t be long and the number of children would greatly increase.

She just wished that their world was more stable for those poor souls about to enter it. Being born during a Civil War wasn’t something she wished on anyone. But her first priority was to give the Fire Elementals a new Heir.

“ETA in ten minutes,” the driver barked and the other six men checked their weapons and coms.

“Locked and loaded,” the soldier on her right called. The man to her left, a younger version of the driver, turned toward her and smiled.

“Welcome home, Princess,” he murmured.

She returned his smile with a tight-lipped one of her own and watched as they cleared several security checkpoints before finally rolling up a circular driveway. She marveled at the bounty of greenery surrounding the brick and mortar estate. Small saplings lined the driveway all the way from the highway to the front door and a multitude of shrubs and shade trees littered the thick, green grass covered lawn.

A twelve-foot, metal security fence surrounded the estate for miles on either side and replica iron bars covered each window. Once they’d rolled to a stop, she waited for her flank guards to exit the SUV and then slowly stepped out behind them. Glad she’d pulled her long crimson curls into a high bun, she sighed when a gust of hot, dry air hit her as she left the air-conditioned vehicle.

Sweat immediately beaded between her breasts and along the back of her neck. She inwardly groaned, knowing that by the time she got inside the house, she’d be sporting a halo of frizz around her head.

Two of her guards preceded her and she fell into step behind them like a dutiful woman should. Grasping her messenger bag tightly, she steeled herself to finally meet her betrothed.

As they approached the massive double oak doors, they swung inward and a young man addressed her with open arms.

“Welcome to your new home, my sister-to-be,” the man greeted and Beth instantly identified him as the young Prince Lance. She peered around him and frowned when she noticed that he was alone in the open entryway.

Her guards separated, each taking a post on opposite sides of the front door, leaving her to walk in alone. She closed the distance between herself and Lance and suddenly found herself in a warm embrace. Only a few inches taller than her, Lance enveloped her as if she were a long-lost sister returning from seclusion. She relaxed somewhat and gently patted him on the back to convey her thanks for his thoughtfulness.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” she responded. “The estate is very beautiful.”

“Yes, well, Wesley wanted to go for the ‘inviting’ atmosphere should any visitors deign to grace us,” he quipped conspiratorially. “The Estate house is merely for stage performances, so to speak. The royal palace is deep beneath our feet and much more extravagant than this,” he informed and waved his hands to encompass the house. “Why don’t you follow me into the Library where we can wait for Wesley to finish his meeting?” He swept his hand toward the open door to his left and then offered her his arm. Smiling at his gentlemanly ways, Beth slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and nodded graciously.

Although deep inside she was extremely disappointed that her fiancé hadn’t greeted her himself. She hoped he wasn’t one of the New Age Dragons. She’d studied and practiced the Ancient Ways and thought those who didn’t were uneducated and uncouth. Was that what she faced in her new life? Was she about to marry into the wrong side?

* * *

Wesley had finished his meeting with the Throne’s Council and rushed to his room to change when he heard vehicles approaching. A quick glance out of the window revealed a convoy of blacked out SUVs, confirming the arrival of his intended bride. Realizing his nervousness at meeting his future mate, he jerked his hand from the curtains and slunk away from the window. He’d known from a very young age who his mate would be and hadn’t really given it much thought until the Elders decreed each Prince take a mate.

Since he already had one waiting for him, he hadn’t hurried to consummate the union as the other three Princes had. But now, knowing that his three fellow leaders were happily mated and planning to bring new dragonlings into their families, he wondered if he had it in him. Would he be a good father and mate? Would he grow to love Elizabeth as his father loved his mother?

Never one to believe in fairy tales and such rubbish, Wesley tended to look on the more practical side of things. His future mate came from a decent and wealthy family. He’d never seen her but outward appearances never attributed to the real person inside. He’d seen unattractive women be absolutely the gentlest souls and he’d met supermodel gorgeous women who were hideous human beings. Of course, he was a man and he hoped that he and his mate found a mutual attraction to one another.

They had many centuries of being together to endure. Nevertheless, he would do his duty.

A gentle knock on his suite door had him snapping back to reality.

“Yes,” he called over his shoulder as he moved across his room to study the contents of his closet.

“Princess Elizabeth Henderson has just arrived,” a tall, gangly man announced from the open doorway. Wesley nodded at the man, letting him know he’d heard him and then waved his hand dismissively.

“Have Lance escort her to the Library, I’ll be down shortly,” Wesley ordered and began searching for something comfortable and presentable; he wanted to make a good impression after all.

Pulling on a pair of soft gray trousers and a black knit polo shirt, Wesley gave his reflection a cursory glance before heading for the stairs. When he reached the balcony guardrail, he stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes lit on the fiery-haired beauty on his brother’s arm.

His first impression was that she bore a close resemblance to the Greek goddess Artemis. Had he not known she was a Dragon, he would’ve believed her to be an Amazon. She was tall, the top of her head a mere few inches shy of Lance’s six-feet-two. Her red hair was pulled up in a severe bun on the top of her head but a few wisps had escaped to flutter lightly around her shoulders and long, slender neck.

His mouth watered at the thought of tearing her clothes off with nothing but his teeth. Her body was full, curvy and built for sex. High, full breasts threatened to spill out the V of her little black top and his fingers flexed at the notion of peeling that red, knee length pencil skirt down her legs.

When she turned her head toward Lance, she wore a smile that almost brought Wesley to his knees. His fire burst into flames deep down inside of him and his Dragon roared to life. He just hoped he could hold the beast off long enough to make it through the ritual.

If left to his base instinct, he’d have jumped the banister, landed directly before her and taken her right then and there for everyone to see. Every fiber of his being demanded he lay claim to the vixen before it was too late.

“Good grief Wesley, you’ve been without a woman far too long,” he murmured to himself and turned to descend the stairs. Walking with a raging hard-on wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he turned his thoughts to puppies, kittens and even his elderly grandmother. Imagining her naked wasn’t very appealing, so by the time he’d hit the Library’s threshold, everything was back to normal.

But the moment her abnormally green eyes met his, his body tightened taunt as a violin string. One mere strum and he was done for. Using all his training and self-control, he steeled himself and closed the distance between them.

“Princess Elizabeth, may I present my brother - and your betrothed - Prince Wesley Ingram, leader of the Fire Dragon Elementals,” Lance introduced and turned a beaming smile on his brother.

“My dear brother, I was just telling your beautiful bride-to-be about our parents,” Lance beamed.

Wesley extended an open palm and quietly waited for her to speak first. He didn’t trust himself not to say something stupid or inappropriate.

“Your photograph doesn’t do you justice, your Highness,” she greeted and he involuntarily shuddered at the sexy southern twang in her voice. Having been raised in South Texas, her accent was sweet, soft and an utter turn on. Hell, everything about her turned him on.

Wesley saw Lance fidget nervously from the corner of his eye and knew he was being a weirdo, so he managed a smile in return and using his thumb, he gently brushed the buttery softness of her skin.

“I imagine I was much younger - and more gangly - back then,” he quipped and was rewarded with a laugh - a full, honest laugh. “Was your trip comfortable?” he asked without releasing her hand just yet.

“Oh yes,” she hastened to answer. “I’m afraid I didn’t have much privacy, but I was quite comfortable.”

He smiled in return and forced himself to let her hand slide free of his. His skin burned and pulsated from the absence of her contact. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and never let her go.