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“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 coronary. So, ta-ta for now.” Heidi ducked out of the curtains, leaving them alone on the stage, a faux garden of Eden.

“She said children,” Ruthie whispered.

“Yes, she did.” Anthony dipped his head down and nibbled on her shoulder.

Chil-dren, Anthony. That means more than one.”

“I know what it means, Ruthie.” He scooped her up, sweeping the blade away and striding off the stage. “But she also said we have decades before that’s an issue.”

“Where are we going then?”

“To practice.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Her laughter resonated through him. He didn’t really care about the gods and their wagers or tribal politics or the house winning. His arms were full with his great fortune.

And he planned to enjoy the hell out of it.

“Anthony?”

“Yes, my princess?”

“Put clothes on before we go through the lobby. I don’t want you to start a riot.”

“You’d protect me.”

“But then I’d get blood on these shoes.”

He laughed. “So you’re worried about a little blood?”

Sliding her shoes off one at a time, she wiggled her toes. “Nope. I can defend you quite easily…barefoot and brutal.”

He hopped off the stage. “Yes, you can.”

“You like living dangerously, don’t you?” But she didn’t argue as he strode through the doors toward the lobby. The sooner they made it back to their suite, the better.

“No, I like—love living with you.” He kissed her hard, silencing any further objections. They had many years ahead to disagree, tease, battle, conquer and make up with sex.

My mate…my rules.

She bit his lip and he growled. “What was that for?”

“You marked me…I think it’s time I marked you.” She lifted her chin, challenge shining in her eyes.

“Will you ever stop battling me?”

“No.”

He grinned. “Good.” He wouldn’t have her any other way. 

About the Author

Heather Long lives in Texas with her family and their menagerie of animals. As a child, Heather skipped picture books and enjoyed the Harlequin romance novels by Penny Jordan and Nora Roberts that her grandmother read to her. Heather believes that laughter is as important to life as breathing and that the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are very real. In the meanwhile, she is hard at work on her next novel.

www.heatherlong.net