Tension vibrates in the large court as the king lion and prince wolf stare at one another. Neither cowers, or seems to blink and my respect for Noble grows when my father changes form. The commanding presence of the king in his truest form energizes his court. Our agitated audience grows hungry for blood. Noble’s blood, but Noble remains steady, calm, collected.

He permits my father to prowl around him, but maintains his scrutiny on my father, his opponent, while also asserting a sense of unconcern.

My heart, the demanding little organ, thumps a violent beat and when Noble’s attention darts in my direction I know he senses my growing discord. He quirks a single eyebrow and I press two fingers to my lips to hide my smile.

Mischief glistens in his eyes before he turns back to my father.

“My lord.” His voice beams, the confidence behind it slams into my gut and pride floods into me and spreads like wild fire.

The Noble I’ve come to know, the quiet almost timid wolf, is gone. This man, or wolf, standing before me is royal, majestic even. He’s the kind of man I’d follow, fall to my knees for. And if he’s here for my hand and heeded my advice, he’s also the man I’m to marry.

I suck in a sharp breath, sending a silent prayer to the heavens. It startles me how much I want Noble to win. How much I want to marry and bed a wolf. Not for my pride or for the union of two realms. But for myself. For the pleasure spiking through my system with just a glance in his direction.

Silly female, I chastise myself.

Crede sidles beside me, and I angle my body away from him as I wrap my arms over my chest. He leans in, his nose high as he sniffs the air around me. His face contorts, disgust evident in his ugly sneer. “Seems the court isn’t the only one excited for this fight,” he whispers, his lips inches from my ear.

On my tiptoes, I pivot and, as trained, I glide to my mother on soft feet, leaving Crede to stew in his misery alone. When I glance back at Noble, he nods, his dark hair spilling over his face and covering his eyes that have turned an opaque black. He’s seconds away from shifting, and I drive my tongue into my cheek.

“My Lord,” he repeats, his voice rougher, his posture more rigid. “I’ve come to speak to you of my betrothal to your daughter.”

My father sits on his haunches and tilts his head, letting Noble know he has the king’s attention. My mother slides her hands into the crevice of my arm and squeezes. I cover her hand with mine and we share a look, mine silently telling her how I feel and hers brimming with understanding.

She kisses my cheek. “Love will come, dear one,” she says loud enough for me to hear, but too low for anyone else to notice.

“It has been said in four days’ time, I am to wed your daughter. I am here to challenge you, the King of all the Realms, for my lady’s hand. If it pleases you and the queen,” he bows his head, his gaze falling on my mother and she bows her head in return.

Crede laughs, a dry sound that infuriates me. “Is the idea of marrying Liana so horrible, you wish to die?”

A few members of the court chuckle with Crede but stop when my father growls.

“My king,” Crede says, neither dipping his head nor sinking into a customary bow when addressing my father. “It is my understanding you and the king wolf agreed this pup would not fight you, that you waived our traditions for his sake.” He sneers in my direction while my attention darts between the three commanding men in the room. “Noble, you have been granted a great reprieve. Take it, for your sake and the sake of your future wife. ‘Tis better to forego your pride than wind up dead. Don’t you agree, Liana?”

Confusion wars with anger and the awakening lion quakes in response. Rather than rise to either emotion, I send Noble a reassuring smile. I want him to fight. I want him to earn my hand the way every lioness’ hand has been won from the first generation. Fair or not, I expect it of him.

Again, Noble’s blue eyes darken, the blackness spreading as his body trembles, but he doesn’t turn to Crede when he continues to speak. Instead, his gaze stays on my father, who waits patiently for Noble to reply. “Quite the opposite. I find Liana to be an exquisite creature and woman. One I’ll honor in marriage as my partner and as the future mother to my children, the heirs of Winter.” Finally, he turns to Crede, and levels him with a grave expression. “I find I want to honor my bride and follow her traditions so that when Liana is by my side both realms will recognize I am worthy to be her true mate.”

Pride builds and swells inside me until I can’t feel anything but the growing sentiments I hold for Noble. My Noble. My courageous wolf who will fight for me, for my hand when neither king requires it of him.

With a final squeeze to my arm, my mother leaves me and walks to stand beside my father. I follow half a step behind her. She runs a hand through my father’s mane and he leans his large head into her outstretched palm.

Noble bows again while my mother regards him. From the corner of my eye, I see my mother’s lips twitch and I suppress my own smile. Noble peers up at me, and in front of the king and queen, he winks at me. My teeth dig into my bottom lip and I shake my head.

“I suggest you rest then, Noble,” my mother says. “We’ll send word to your king and queen. The fight will take place before sunrise.”

“My thanks.” His bow deepens.

I step forward and curtsy, with a smile flitting across my face. Reaching to me, he takes my hand and lifts it to his lips. We linger for a few beats and when he drops my hand. I feel naked, far more naked than I did last night when I stood in front of him bare. I’m eager to touch him again, to feel the warmth of his skin on mine, to clasp onto the strength that seems to flow through his veins.

“I’ll show you to your quarters,” I say, casting my eyes down so he doesn’t see what I’m not ready to show him.

My father growls, making us both stop and direct our attention to him. My mother rolls her eyes, rather unroyally, and strokes the top of my father’s head.

“Hush now, my king. They’ll be fine,” she reassures him.

She shoots me a playful look and I rush Noble out of the court before my father changes form and demands we stay apart from one another.

Not that I’d listen. As we walk through the large doors and make our exit, I shoot a quick glance at my parents and from the somber expression on the lion’s face, I know he also understands I wouldn’t listen.

Past long halls and empty rooms, I guide Noble through our castle. His attention swivels in all directions as he takes in the proud history of our pride that we display on the high walls. Wars won. Lives lost. They’re all there.

Every memory we can never forget takes residence among us, because it’s a part of who we are. Embedded into each cub so that when we mature, we grow knowing the souls who risked it all for us. Our pride.

He takes it all in, the pictures, maps and sculptures with a serious demeanor, and I can’t help but feel grateful he doesn’t scoff at my history. We lions are a proud people, and I’d hate to quarrel with my husband the day before he battles my father because he was disrespectful to my lineage.

Outside his bedroom door, I summon up all the remaining courage I can muster, and reach for the knob. He beats me to it and holds the door open for me.

“My lady.” He nods.

I saunter past him, another smile splayed across my face. “I thought you said you’d only call me that in public.”

He throws his head back and laughs and – God almighty – what a sound he makes. It’s joyous, sure. But more than that, it’s exuberant, full of a life I yearn for.

“You’re not quite what I expected,” I say when his laughter dies out.

Creases fold over his forehead as he contemplates my words. “What did you expect?”

“Not this.” I wave my hand at him. “Not what you showed at the court.”

“You told me to fight for your hand.”

“I did.” I touch his face, tracing the sharp planes with a finger. “When I went to you, I didn’t know my father and yours had waived our traditions. I thought you were meant to fight my father.”

“And you wanted me to win?” He smirks.

“I did. I still do. But Noble, why would you race into the night to challenge my father to a fight when you didn’t have to?”

“For you, my lady. You asked me to not hold back. I’m only doing as you wish.”

“Yes,” I agree. “And you not holding back is fascinating. Magnificent, really. I wish you to never hold back, Noble. I want to always see you as you are right now, so unbridled by your restraints.”

“That’s not something I’m certain I can give you. I fear I’d hurt you if I don’t show restraint around you.”

Insulted, I narrow my eyes and he chuckles.

“You’re fierce, my lion princess. I know your fierceness firsthand and I admire it. But,” he scratches the base of his neck, “there are things about me I’d rather keep hidden.”

“Hidden?” I frown, pulling my eyebrows together. “We are to be married. Husband and wife. There must not be secrets between us.” I step into him, placing my hands on his wide shoulders and he shudders. “Show me, Noble. Show me what you hide from the world.”

I let my hands fall to the bottom of his shirt and glide a hand under it. Pressing a hand to his stomach, I let my touch wander as I explore the planes of his stomach and chest. I kiss his chin and when he tilts his head down, we steal a kiss. Soft, sweet. Wanting more, I take charge and slide his shirt off him between the hungry kisses I press to his delicious mouth.

We part, only to suck in desperate breaths, but in the instant that we disconnect, Noble pushes away from me. He crosses the room, quickly retreating from me. With the moonlight peeking through the window shades, the lines of his back muscles dance with every swift gait.

“Do you think me a virgin?” I chortle.

He whips his head back, anger brewing behind his eyes, deepening the creases between the bridge of his nose.

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” I coax, slipping the sleeves from my dress off my shoulders as I wiggle free from its constraints. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Noble. If you’re a virgin, I can teach you.”

He turns his full body toward me and I wait with bated breath as he approaches me. Long, elegant strides to me, his prize in this little feud. I leave my dress on the floor and meet him half way. Kneeling in front of me, he presses his warm lips onto my belly, licking and sucking as he moves down, past my navel. I shiver, my body trembling at the gentle contact. Slipping my fingers through his hair, I grab him and tug hard, forcing him to peer up at me.

“Take me,” I command.

He grunts, his eagerness evident in that one syllable. With a swift movement, I’m in his arms, my naked body pressed against his bare chest. He drops me on the bed and strips off his pants. Before I can admire the curvatures of his body, he leans into me and braces himself upright with an outstretched hand by my face. I inch my face toward it, taking in his scent that no longer feels foreign to me.

He lifts my left leg and places it over his shoulder. Then the other. He guides himself to me, the evidence of his arousal rubbing between my legs. My breath stutters and he steals it with a hard kiss. He hovers over me, and glides inside me with a gentleness that surprises me. He’s too gentle. Making it impossible for me to hold onto my sanity. His breath is slow, deliberate, a taunt for provoking him. It falls heavy on my shoulder, my neck, everywhere he presses silky kisses to my skin.

His scent, my scent, our scent grows potent, raw desire taking over with every unfurling heave of his hips. I breathe in his essence, hold it in my lungs and let it permeate into my soul so that one day, I can come to love the man who’s taking me from my home.

A small noise echoes in my ear, a whimper. Mine, definitely mine. It was far too delicate to come from the man claiming me as his.

“Silence,” he demands, his voice gruff.

I obey him, pursing my lips together. He slaps into me and I arch my back to meet him thrust for thrust. Eager, I rake my hands over his back, the need for release growing as he sinks into me over and over again.

He shivers. I know he’s close, so I slam into him, wanting us to reach euphoria together. Through gritted teeth, Noble grunts again and I gasp when he thrusts his erection deeper inside of me.

I scream out his name and he covers my mouth with a large hand. I bite him, making his eyes darken. Like a cyclone, he crashes into me. Each blow sends another spike of desire up my spine. Holding himself with his hands, fisting the fabric of my bed sheets, he strikes a final time, my name falling from his lips on a whisper.

His chest heaves, and he lifts my legs from his arms and place them down gently. Joining me on the bed, he lies beside me, both our breaths coming in rapid successions. I turn my head to him and take his lips with mine, drinking in his taste. He kisses me back, his body now on top of mine, while his hands roam over my figure softly as if he were afraid to leave a trace, some sort of proof that he had ventured there. His lips are warm, tender, sweet. As tender as his love making. When he pulls away, I grip his shoulders. A strong hand grips me, his fingers digging into my waist, showing me just how strong he actually is. He nips my chin and then my mouth. I open for him, our tongues dancing sinfully together. Each sweep of his tongue shows me how he chooses gentleness over the strength his body possesses.

Compassionate and powerful, that is where my future husband’s honor lies.

And there I rest, with Noble above me. I lose myself to him, letting our mutual goals for our realms fade to wispy wishes of love and affection.