You can’t have two cocks in the same hen house.

My elderly neighbor in California used the phrase to warn her daughter constantly about promiscuity and having too many suitors at once. I chuckled every time the word ‘cock’ flew out of her seventy-five-year-old mouth.

In my current predicament, I’m finding less humor in it.

Me, Carver, and a hesitant and guarded Lucian, had set off to visit the shifters and locate this contact Carver knows, and Lucian is close with, who might have some answers for us. If there was a theme song for this drive, it would be called, “Holy fuck, this is awkward. Someone save me.”

Though Carver had basically admitted to me that Lucian was also meant to be my future lover, I had yet to discover if that idea bothered him or not. It’s not like we had a moment alone to discuss how exactly he feels about the recent revelation. Not that he feels anything. We hadn’t made any declarations of love, but there was most certainly a strong affection between us.

When I asked for more details about this Harlow, Carver would only tell me it was someone from his past. A pang of jealousy twists my heart as I stare out the window at the flat desert of Texas. Not that its exactly fair for me to be acting this way with Lucian sitting in the back seat. I just hope she’s nothing like Queen Morana, or I might rip her throat out and grin while doing so. I’ve never been a jealous person, but turning into a vampire seems to have brought new meaning to the phrase “blood thirsty’ in more than one way.

“We’re almost there.” Carver’s silky-smooth voice curls around me in the small confines of the car, and I shift in my seat. Even when I’m frustrated with him and confused about where we now stand, I’m still ready and willing to jump on his dick like a bitch in heat.

I only nod in acknowledgement. The three of us had given up small talk about an hour into the drive. Four hours later, the tension is so thick, you could cut it with a dull spoon. I’m not quite sure of the details of Lucian and Carver’s animosity towards each other, but hopefully they’ll be able to punch each other a few times and get over it as men seem to so easily be able to do. I roll my eyes. I wish it was that easy for me.

I sit up higher in my seat as we turn down a bumpy dirt road in the middle of a field of some sort of greenery. “Are we here?”

“Oui, ma belle, their alpha’s house is just up ahead.” He glances to Lucian in the rear-view mirror. “When’s the last time you’ve seen Harlow?”

“A few months. You?”

“A few decades.”

I lean toward the window. “It’s enormous.”

“They all live in the compound for the most part.”

“Must be a pack thing,” I say. “I can’t imagine living in a house with an entire group of people.”

Lucian coughs, and I wince. If what they say is true and I’m sort of a powerful woman in this prophecy who is supposed to draw from a court—or harem—of consorts, I’d better get used to sharing my space, my body, with more than one person at a time.

“Are they expecting us?” I ask Carver.

Lucian leans forward between the seats and answers, his delicious scent of leather and musk making my head spin. “I called a few times but no answer from Harlow. We’re winging it, sweetheart.”

It’s the first time he’s truly addressed me, and even though I can’t tell if the nickname is a dig or a compliment, I like that he’s given me one.

“They probably saw us enter the state,” Carver says, “but it’s best we didn’t let them know though. I’m not sure who has got ears where at this point.”

“Do you think we could be in danger coming here?” I twirl the ring I wear on my pointer finger, my movement giving away my anxiety.

“I don’t think so. Lucian here has kept in close contact with Harlow, and I know the alpha pretty well. He owes me a favor or two.” Carver runs a hand through his blonde hair, letting out a sigh. “I’m hoping we’ll be granted audience with his daughter.”

Harlow is the Alpha’s daughter and probably young and beautiful. Yay.

“She’s a sort of prophet, chérie, but he keeps her very well protected.”

I nod my head, pretending like I’m not treading water in the middle of the vast ocean that has become my life in the past few weeks. Carver squeezes my hand resting on the arm rest before parking the car and opening his door. He zips around to my side of the Audi and opens mine.

I place my hand in his and get out. Standing between the two of them, I feel a mix of being protected, desired, and powerful, all at once. A low growl sounds to our right, and I jump, bumping into Lucian. That’s right. I’m a scaredy cat vampire.

“Sorry,” I mutter out.

Carver holds up his hands, palms open. “We’re here in peace. We need to speak to your alpha. I’m an old friend of his.”

Yips and barks sound around us, and I look over my shoulder. Giant wolves surround us. Their sleek fur and jagged teeth are a clash of both beauty and danger and while I’m fascinated I’m also exasperated. Why can nothing in my life be simple? Drive up, knock on the door, say yes to a cup of tea when offered, and talk this shit out like rational adults.

Instead, we’re surrounded by wolves the size of small SUV’s and they’re all growling at us. If I wasn’t afraid I’d lose a hand, I’d reach out and run my fingers through the one closest to me. Stark white and just a little smaller than the others, the wolf is stunning.

“They don’t recognize you?” I whisper to Lucian.

He frowns but doesn’t take his eyes off the predators surrounding us. “I haven’t been here in person in years, sweetheart. Harlow and I meet outside of pack territory.”

“What? Like at a hotel?” Carver and Lucian’s gazes snap to my face. I want to smack myself for the obvious jealous dig, but I’m saved as the front door on the porch swings open, and three men step out. They’re fucking massive. Shoulders as wide as a linebacker’s, legs the size of tree trunks, and scarred and rough flesh covering their arms.

“Names.” The one who asks isn’t really asking. More like ordering.

Lucian says, “Lucian DeFontaine and Carver Marceau.”

I know Carver can fight. And I know he’s fast, and I’m sure Lucian can hold his own, but they’re like fucking titans. Who slipped them miracle grow when they were infants? Jesus H on a cracker. I turn wide eyed to Carver, but he keeps his focus on the giants in front of us.

“We’re here to see Max.” Lucian says.

“We know of you, vampire. But who are they?” The one to my right asks.

“I’m an old friend and I mean no harm to the females or pups.” Carver’s smooth voice rings out through the open air, and a subtle shift in the air lessons the tension.

A tiny hand curls around one of the mammoth man’s shoulders, and he turns, showing the petite woman behind him. She’s got long chestnut brown hair, wide set whiskey colored eyes, and tan skin. Basically, she’s flawless. If her disarming smile wasn’t so charming, I’d hate her on principle, but something inside of me, some instinct tells me that I can trust her. That I should trust her.

“It’s okay. I know them.” Her voice isn’t raised, but her command holds power. The only wolves who don’t stand down are the three standing up there with her, eyeing Carver, Lucian, and I with suspicion.

She smiles at Lucian and he gives her a single nod. I’m getting the impression that their meetings, though not necessarily sexual, aren’t sanctioned by the pack.

Carver steps forward, dipping his head in acknowledgement of the girl. “Harlow, is that you? It’s been a long time, sprout.”

“Carvell Marceau. The last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure I was clinging to your arm, demanding you toss me into the air again.” She smiles wide, stepping down the steps of the ranch house porch and opening her arms. “Get over here and give me a hug!”

Carver steps forward, halting when triple growls sound from behind Harlow. She growls back, flashing a fangy snarl over her shoulder. “That’s enough of that. He’s not going to hurt me. None of them are. I trust Carver and Lucian with my life.” The three men step down the stairs, hovering close as Carver and Harlow embrace, Carver ruffling at her hair like you would a child as they separate.

Lucian playfully nudges her shoulder with his and she smiles at him. I eye the two of them for any sexual tension, but don’t see any. In fact, the entire thing feels more familial, like an older brother and his kid sis who’s just got back from school or something. Clearly, there are no feelings between any of them other than a sibling like affection.

Harlow steps to the side and gives me a once over. “Hi there, I’m Harlow. This might sound strange, but I’ve sort of been expecting you.” She moves forward and holds out her hand. “So, I kind of feel like I already know you.”

I shake it. “I’m Aurora. You can call me Aura. Nice to meet you.” It’s a bit off putting that she seems to know so much about me, but at this point, being uncomfortable is becoming my normal state of being.

“And what are you doing here with them, Lucian? The last I recall, the two of you” She says pointing between him and Carver, “weren’t on such great terms.”

“I thought you knew everything, Harlow?” Lucian jokes.

She sticks her tongue out at him. “Obviously not. But I may have a few ideas.” She taps her finger to her cheek. “Should I make a guess?”

“No.” Lucian snaps back quickly. “It’s complicated.”

Carver grunts. “How did the two of you become such good friends?”

“I knew Max. He helped me a few years back when I was in a situation.” Lucian grimaces. “Harlow here, kicked my ass at poker and introduced me to country music. After tasting her homemade pecan pie, I was hooked.”

Harlow gives Lucian a hug, slugging him in the arm when she pulls back. “Sorry for showing up announced, kid. I did try to call.”

“It’s no problem.” Harlow walks back towards the three giant men, standing in front of them and crossing her arms. “I’m sorry to say, Daddy’s gone. It’s been about two months.” There’s a slight hitch in her voice, the only indication of her recent heartache. “I’m alpha now.”

I try not to snort. She’s so tiny compared to the men behind her, I’m not sure how she can be alpha, but what the hell do I know about werewolves and shifters anyway? I barely know what I am.

Lucian and Carver both offer their condolences. “What happened, Harlow?”

“Old age. He was close to one-thousand years old. He had a long and happy life, and when I found my mates, I think he just knew it was time.”

“Maze, West, and Holt, meet Carver and Lucian, both are friends of the pack. Aura is now too.” The three men stay silent, only nodding their hellos.

Harlow smiles at me. “They don’t mean to be rude. There’s a bit of a scuffle going on with a local coven, so the pack isn’t used to friendly vamps at the moment.”

I shrug. “No problem. I’m sure they’re used to it.”

“Well, come on inside. You must be hungry after the drive, and West just made some cookies.” She smiles up at the behemoth on the right and giggles before turning and skipping back up the steps, entering the house.

We follow her inside, and I look around curiously. The house is tidy, full of couches, and places to sit, and the smell of warm vanilla and chocolate floats on the air. It’s not what I was expecting. It’s more southern charm than the frat house I was expecting.

We grab some tea, and Harlow folds her legs under her on the big brown leather sofa. Her mates take up places behind her, ready and willing to jump at us if we so much as move too fast in her direction. I can’t say I blame them, but it’s still unsettling to have their stares boring into us as we get comfortable.

“So earlier you mentioned you’d been expecting me? And Carver said you’re a sort of prophet?” I take a sip of tea. “I’m sorry if I’m approaching this wrong. Carver didn’t tell me much, and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on so I can press forward.”

Harlow tsks, frowning at Carver. “Of course, he didn’t. Yes, I’m a prophet so to speak. I can see what’s going to happen that will shift the metaphysical world. Kind of like something that’s going to happen amongst the shifters that’s going to impact the vampires, or the witches and so on and so forth.”

“Oh, is that all.” I say dryly.

Harlow throws her head back and laughs. “I like you, Aura. I think we’re going to be good friends in the years to come.”

I open my mouth to ask what exactly is to come, and she holds up her hand.

“I’m going to dive right in, because I’m sure the waiting sucks and you’d like to ask some questions.” She clears her throat. “From what I understand, you’re one of the Dria.”

Carver paces in front of the fireplace in the corner of the room. I eye him, anxiety fluttering through my stomach, before I look to Lucian who appears to be listening just as intently. “Carver mentioned some things earlier. Although I still don’t fully understand.”

“You are Kresova. But there is a prophecy that states three queens, or Dria, will rise, and with their consorts, they will bring back Abhartach, and free the Kresova from the brutal reign of Queen Morana.”

Abhartach. The name rings a bell and I recall seeing it among the headstones in the plantation graveyard.

“From what Carver tells me, women don’t normally survive the change. How can there be two more like me?” My mind races, and my heart pounds.

“From what I can see, you will find the other two Dria, and you will unite the trio and return balance to the Kresova race.”

Oh, no big deal. “And who exactly is Abhartach again?”

“Abhartach, or Abe, as I call him, is the original King of Kresova. He created the Kresova race. Perhaps you could call him the original vampire. But when Morana survived the change and became a favorite at his court, she plotted to take over as ruler. She was successful in removing him from power, but his followers haven’t given up. Even after all these long, long years, they are still trying to bring him back and take her down. Unfortunately, Morana seems to always be one step ahead of his followers, and they haven't been successful as of yet.”

“After all this time, he still has followers?” Dedicated little bastards apparently.

“Yes, the Dakvahar, or Daks for short.” Harlow takes a bite of a cookie as I rub at my temples, trying to make sense of all of this. She tilts her head to the side, “You’ve seen his name before.”

“Ugh, well—yes.” I glance over to Carver. “In the cemetery at Morana’s plantation.”

She nods, “His headstone remains in the Kresova cemetery but this is not where Morana keeps his body. That is a closely guarded secret.”

“And I’m supposed to bring good ole Abe back from the dead against Queen Morana’s wishes, unite a trio of Queens called the Dria, and have a group of consorts all to myself?” With every new crazy ass revelation, this whole scenario is feeling more like an LSD induced dream that I can’t escape.

Harlow smiles softly at me, her brown eyes kind. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“And how am I supposed to find these other Dria? And find where Abhartach is hidden? Do you know how to bring him back from the dead? Undead? Whatever you call it?”

“I’d guess that if you can find the Dakvahar, they’d be able to help you find the other two, and would know how to resurrect Abe. From what I know, they have a prophetess of their own, and she’s been helping them to seek out the Dria.” Harlow looks to Carver. “Although that might prove challenging with Carver at your side.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snap at her, irrationally offended at her comment for a reason I can’t name.

“Carver’s allegiance is to Queen Morana. It is a well-known fact. They won’t trust you easily unless you can prove that you are no longer her favorite assassin, Carver.”

“I’ll handle that. Don’t worry about that part, Aura.”

“Don’t worry about it? Are you kidding?”

Carver gives me a sharp look. “We cannot discuss this here, ma belle.” He looks at the three men behind Harlow’s back. “I mean no offense, Harlow, but I do not know where there are eyes and ears, and I’ve waited lifetimes for this.”

“None taken. I understand that hesitance.” Her mates growl behind her, and she shushes them.

I raise my hand. “I don’t.”

Carver smiles, but everyone ignore my interruption. “For now, let’s focus on how we find the Daks. Any ideas, Harlow?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but no. I’ve only heard whispers of them. I’d start with any of the voodoo practitioners in Louisiana. They’ve probably consulted with them about how to raise Abe from the dead.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be as easy as asking and getting a clear answer. A bad feeling snakes through my insides. More voodoo queens. I didn’t have any animosity toward Mama Lisette, but the last time we’d spoken, she’d informed me of my impending doom. So naturally, I didn’t have a whole lot of enthusiasm to hear any more dark-prophecies with my name on them. I still hadn’t confided her warning to Carver.

“I might have a place to start.”

Carver’s head snaps in my direction. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. Although, you’re not going to like it.”