Weres were close.
Weretigers.
And worse.
The heavy, metallic sting of bronze clogged his nose.
Amazons.
He paused, his flat eyes gazing out into the darkness. His Pride and her Tribe were in the audience. He lifted his head, a rumble of sound vibrating his chest, clashing with the music.
A roar that cried
Chapter Fourteen
The applause was fierce as the final curtain descended, Ruthie’s wild princess wrapped around the tiger, a sword in her hand. She would defend him against the entire world. They’d chosen the ending and it was like mating with her all over again. When the curtain dropped, he waited for Ruthie to slide off before shifting.
He hadn’t had time to warn her.
Skin stretched and burning, he ignored the playful whistles of the girls over his nudity. The vain cat preened at the attention of only one woman, and Ruthie’s eyes were bright with interest and lust.
“Wait.” He pressed his fingers to her lips when she went to kiss him. “They’re coming.”
“Who?”
The curtain parted and Anthony shifted his stance, bracing a step in front and to the right of his mate. The queen entered the stage area first, halting the dancers in their paths with one frosty look. Queen Alexiares was tall, fine-boned and carried just a hint of gray in her dark hair, a testament to her long life and strong will.
“Mother,” Ruthie squeaked, dropping into a deep bow, blade pointed down.
“Ruth Ann.” Disapproval quivered in the words. “Did you really mate that tiger?”
Anthony’s fingers curled, but he held himself still. He couldn’t interfere. Not yet.
“Yes, Mother. I mated Anthony.” Ruthie straightened, her posture loose but prepared. Ever the warrior.
The queen sighed.
“Interesting choice, nephew.” His uncle sauntered onto the stage. A sly smile twisted his lips. He was not the dark, maniacal cartoon villain Anthony often imagined, but a well-dressed, coifed businessman with white-blond hair that stood in stark contrast to his ruddy skin.
“Uncle.” Anthony didn’t bow, but he managed to incline his head. It was the only submission he was willing to show. There was still too much water under that bridge.
“It looks like we both lose, Alexiares.” His uncle’s voice boomed with laughter, not malice. Anthony quirked a look at Ruthie, but she shook her head once, a quick negative. She had no idea what they were talking about either.
“I see that. Very well, I’ll sign the treaty.”
“Yes, we will. Shall we?” He gestured to the curtain and the queen paused.
Her cool gaze raked over Anthony and he had the strangest feeling she was sizing him up for the kill. Ruthie moved, her blade turning upward and she positioned herself in front of him.
“Truly, daughter. You would challenge me?”
Anthony’s heart froze. Amazon queens battled to the death. It was the only way to preserve their strength, their honor and their crowns.
“With a heavy heart, your majesty. But make no mistake. Anthony is mine and I protect what is mine.”
“Even if mating him makes you mortal?” The queen’s words sent a bracing cold shock through his soul. “You cannot be both Pride and Tribe.”
“We’re mated. It’s done. You taught me to own what I want.” His mate’s unflinching response warmed the shock with true pride.
“You always were a bit of a brat.” A reluctant smile tugged the regal woman’s face. “Keep your cat. We’ll discuss this at the New Year’s meeting. I expect both of you there.”
She stepped through the curtain held open by the Pride Alpha and disappeared. Anthony glided his hands up Ruthie’s arms and pulled her willing body back to his chest.
“What. The. Hell?” She murmured the words echoing in his soul.
“Mortal?” He inhaled her scent, finding comfort.
“Amazons who take a mate lose the gift of immortality.”
She sacrificed eternal life for him. “I…”
“Just remember when I start wrinkle. They really are your fault.” She winked, but his chest tightened.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“Ahh, wagers. They are fun.” Heidi trundled out, shooing the dancers away and pointing at the cats until they sprawled on the rapidly emptying stage.
“What wager?” The question echoed between them.
Heidi paused at the curtain where their leaders had exited and smiled at them. It was a beatific smile that was both excited and smug.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” they chorused. Anthony’s arms tightened around Ruthie and she snuggled her head back against his shoulder.
“A wager between Ares and Athena. Didn’t think gods liked to wager, did you? But these two siblings are both hard headed when it comes to their viewpoints on war. Your tribe and his Pride are just examples of that war. Ares urges attack, Athena urges defense. Both love to win.”
“I don’t understand,” Ruthie murmured. “What does that have to do with us?”
“You were stolen as an infant, Princess Ruth. Before you, your mother had given birth to ten sons and no daughters. Ares was pleased, because every son she brought into the world was warlike and powerful.”
“They’re executives. They don’t even use real weapons, just stock prices and bad Facebook comments.”
Anthony had to swallow a laugh at the incredulity stretching through Ruthie’s words.
“Yes, well. It is what it is. But you were kidnapped by Anthony’s Pride…”
The tiger in him went still. He could scent no lie. “My great-grandfather.”
“Exactly. That is why Queen Alexiares wears him as a cape. It’s a warning to not touch what’s hers again. But it was too late, Athena and Ares both saw that Princess Ruth had been marked.” She motioned to the white stripe in Ruthie’s hair.
“So the gods wagered.”
“On what?” Ruthie’s voice strained with irritation. She wanted Heidi to get to the point, but Anthony tipped his head down, looking at his mate and her white stripe. It always smelled different from the rest of her.
It smelled like Pride.
“They wagered on who was right. Was it better to be offensive or defensive?” Heidi grinned again, obviously not sharing the best part of the wager with them.
“And?” Anthony stroked his fingers through Ruthie’s damp hair, tugging the white lock. “Who won?”
“The House did. And I suppose so did the two of you.”
“We changed the rules of war.” Ruthie exhaled slowly. “We were both defensive and offensive, but we made love, not war.”
“Exactly. Which means that neither of those two pompous windbags are right, at least not in this wager, so the Royale, which guaranteed the bet, wins.”
“And the price is peace.” Anthony wanted to laugh. Without even being aware of it, they’d just overturned centuries of tribal warfare between their peoples.
“Yes. Your children will be the focal point of the final treaty, so you’ll likely be consulted. But we have decades before that will be a real issue. Just plan to raise them as both Pride and Amazons. Great show tonight. Brilliant execution. They couldn’t pick their jaws up off the floor. I thought your uncle was going to have a
