Fated Moons (New Dawn #6)

Chapter 11

11

J ackson slipped from the king-sized bed, careful not to disturb Amanda. He stood at the side of the bed, hiking up his jeans, and stared at her for a long moment. Her thick hair pooled on the pillow. She lay on her side, one hand resting where he’d been sleeping. He rubbed his chest. His heart tightened.

She was his world.

His everything.

And the new life she carried he wanted more than he could express.

The early morning light peeked through the curtains. Daybreak was a little over an hour away.

She stretched. “Jackson?”

“I’m right here.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“What time is it?” She blinked open her eyes, curling her fingers around his neck, tugging him closer.

He caved to his mate’s wishes and eased beside her warm body. There were no longer any lingering doubts about where he belonged. Or what his purpose had come to mean. He would die trying to protect her—and his family—and the future of the changing world.

“It’s too early for you to be awake. Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll bring you some coffee in an hour or so.”

“Hmmmm. I could get used to that.” She pressed her lips against the side of his neck. “It’s weird that this is all so familiar. All so comfortable. Part of me wants to slow it down. But something tells me that’s impossible.” She draped her arm and leg over his body. Her sharp nails danced up and down his chest, tickling his skin and making it impossible for him to leave her side.

He tilted her chin with his thumb. Staring into her eyes was like gazing into his future. He kissed her tenderly. Softly.

Her hand slipped into his jeans.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He snagged her wrist.

A wicked smile spread across her face right before she dotted kisses down his stomach. Her hot pink tongue circled over his navel.

“You realize I can’t say no to you.”

“You could, but you won’t.” Her deft fingers unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper. She tugged his pants down to his ankles and tossed them to the floor. Holding him in her hands, she licked her lips and then him.

He growled, low and deep, as he watched her take him into her sweet, hot mouth.

Holding her hair on top of her head, he did his best to maintain control. To enjoy what she offered without taking what his body demanded.

And he wanted her. All of her. In the most primal way.

His need for her was stronger than he could have ever imagined. He’d desired women before. Lusted after them. But in the end, it had always left him wondering if there was more. When he’d first switched alliances to the Crescent Moon Pack, he’d seen so many fated connections, and being around couples like Chaz and Daphne was more than intense. Their devotion to one another could overwhelm any creature’s senses.

Jackson never believed he wanted that. Or maybe his father’s actions had destroyed his ability to claim a mate. If it had, he didn’t think he cared.

But now that he had, he couldn’t imagine what life would be like without her standing by his side. He cared about nothing else.

His toes curled. His breathing labored. “That’s enough of that.” He tugged gently at her hair. “Come here.”

Straddling his waist, she guided him inside her folds.

“Sweet Jesus, woman.” He gripped her hips, holding her steady so he could catch his breath.

She leaned forward, gently kissing his mouth as her hips rolled over him like the ocean lapping at the shore.

He caught her sweet moans in his throat, swallowing them, savoring their strawberry taste. Cupping her cheeks, he broke off the kiss, gazing into her orbs. “You’re beautiful. And amazing. And I’m so lucky to have you as mine,” he projected.

Pressing her hand on the center of his chest, she arched her back, grinding harder and faster. Her movements were desperate but out of a sense of need.

He gritted his teeth as he reached for the spot that would take her over the edge. He fanned his thumb over the hard nub.

She gasped, jerking her hips forward and then back. Cupping her breast, she pinched and tugged at her nipple. “Yes, Jackson. Please.”

Flipping her over on her back, he yanked her to the edge of the bed, knelt on the floor, and dived between her legs, lapping at her sex.

Her fingers dug into his scalp. Her moans grew louder. “Oh my God, Jackson.” Her entire body convulsed as her orgasm spilled out over his tongue.

Quickly, he climbed on top of her, thrusting himself inside her, feeling her tighten around him like a glove. He was wild and out of control. Maybe too rough. “Am I hurting you?” he whispered.

“No. No. Please. Don’t stop.”

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain some composure, but she wrapped her arms around him, grabbed his ass, and heaved him deeper.

Seconds later, his climax exploded. His lungs burned for oxygen. He collapsed, nuzzling his face in her neck. He let out a long sigh that sounded like a combination of a growl and a groan. “That was a nice way to start my morning.”

Her fingers ran up and down his spine. “I need a nap.”

He chuckled. “I guess I can let you have a half hour or so.” He rolled to the side, wondering if she would bring up the lack of a condom again, which didn’t matter at this point.

He could smell his child.

Though, it didn’t smell like a wolf. Or a witch. Or even a wolfairy.

It smelled like Ali, Trask’s offspring. Which meant it was a witch or wizard fairy, depending on gender.

And the scent was wicked strong for only having been conceived last night.

Holy shit. He was going to be a father.

He was not ready for that.

“What are you thinking?” She propped up on her elbow. “And don’t say something dorky or sweet. You were deep in thought about something. Something that made your forehead crinkle.” She scrunched her face. “You do that when something either troubles you or you don’t know what to make of something.”

“Ah, you know me so well already.” He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm before easing from the bed and stepping into his jeans. “I can’t lie to you, but I’m afraid to tell you.”

“Were you thinking about the Legend of the Fated Moons?” She placed her hand on her stomach. “And what might be in here?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Kind of hard not to when we just did it again without using birth control.”

She wrapped her body in the sheet. “Even I didn’t think about that until it was over. I’m not a wolf. I don’t mate the same way. I should be aware of the fact I’m not using birth control.” She leaned against the headboard.

He ran his fingers through his hair. He should just tell her about the baby. It was the right thing to do. But he couldn’t. She didn’t want to deal with it yet. “My understanding is when it comes to these pairings and fated mates, procreation is instinctual. It’s not in our nature to think about it.”

“You’re not making me feel any better.” She raised her hand. “I know last night I was a little more accepting of the idea.” She tapped her finger to her chest. “And part of me is. But all of this changes my entire life. Being a part of the royal family was hard enough. If the legend is true, this will be even harder.”

“One thing at a time, and right now, we need to figure out who cast that spell on me because now that we’re out as a couple, they will want to stop us from making that legend true.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I need to check with those who have been guarding us. Rest. I’ll bring you coffee in a little bit.”

“Okay.” She palmed his cheek. “Let me know if anything happens or if there is any news.”

He stepped from the master bedroom and headed down the short hallway to the kitchen. One of the reasons he’d bought the house was partly because the master had been on the main floor and had sliders that went out to a small patio near the pool.

He filled the pot with water and poured it in after scooping out double the amount of coffee, knowing that Amanda was good for at least one full-sized mug.

He stood in front of the coffee machine with his mug in his hand as if this would hurry up the process of the water filtering through the grinds. He needed a shot of caffeine so he could clear the matting cobwebs from his brain.

Love and mating were one and the same. Intellectually, he understood that.

Emotionally, he comprehended that had happened.

Amanda was real.

And she was his.

He’d cared for a few women over the years. However, not once had he ever dreamed about them having a future that included love, laughter, and children.

And there was the rub.

Because of his father, he’d never wanted kids. He’d put that thought right out of his head. If any woman had brought it up, that was his cue to run.

It was not that he didn’t like babies; he loved them with all their innocent curiosity. He knew he was nothing like his father, but still, he worried that he’d be a horrible father and somehow continue the legacy his father had left him with.

But there was no going back.

He was going to be a father.

And of a powerful creature that was going to help change the world.

That had been predicted. Written in the stars. It was more than legend. It was a reality. One he couldn’t run from even if he wanted to.

Which he didn’t.

The coffee maker spattered out the last drop of the dark liquid. His mouth watered in anticipation as he poured it into the mug, steam rising into the air.

The front doorbell dinged, echoing across the house. He glanced at the clock on the microwave, flashing 7:15 a.m. If the paparazzi had crossed the street onto his property, he’d be more than happy to show his teeth and give them something to talk about.

But the bigger concern would be how that had happened.

He pressed his hands against the wood door, closing one eye as he peered through the peephole. His brother, Decker, stood on the stoop, hands on his hips, next to Amanda’s father.

That couldn’t be good.

Twisting the deadbolt, he yanked open the door, thinking he should have at least gone back and put on a shirt.

Not to mention, he smelled like sex.

His brother would be able smell it, but would a wizard?

“Why the hell haven’t you answered your phone?” Decker asked, his voice laced with a tremble of bitterness. Decker had balked at working with any witch but being told to call Prince Alfred if anything odd happened had sent Decker off the deep end.

“I left it on the nightstand when I got up to make coffee.” Jackson stepped back, letting the prince and his brother into the foyer.

“Jackson?” Amanda’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Your phone has been going bonkers. Your brother has called like three times in the last five minutes.”

Jackson sucked in a breath, trying to rip his gaze from her father, who stared at him with an arched brow. He had to mention where he’d left his phone.

“In the foyer,” Jackson called, ignoring his brother’s smirk. “Decker is here and so is your dad.” He stretched his arm out, allowing the prince and his brother to take the lead.

“Oh, hi, Daddy.” Her face flushed as her father kissed her temple. She wore one of Jackson’s button-down shirts she must have snagged from his closet and a pair of his boxers.

He didn’t care she stole his shirt. He actually thought it cute, except for her father glancing between the two of them.

“I’ll make another pot of coffee,” Jackson said.

“Wonderful. We have some things to discuss,” Alfred said, waltzing into the kitchen with a protective arm around his daughter.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

“We’ve had some developments,” the prince said.

“Let me go put a shirt on. I’ll be right back.” Jackson ducked into his bedroom, his palms sweating and his heart pounding. He’d been around Prince Alfred before. It shouldn’t be this awkward.

Except he’d gone and knocked up his daughter the first time out of the gate.

Not to mention they’d had sex not fifteen minutes ago.

He snagged a black T-shirt, taking a moment to calm his nerves. Amanda was a grown woman who proved to be strong and independent. She was also his mate and Prince Albert knew that. Shaking his hands out, he opened the bedroom door and returned to the kitchen.

Prince Alfred and his brother had perched themselves on the barstools at the island, both palming a steaming mug. The coffee maker gurgled, making a second pot.

Amanda leaned against the counter, one arm around her middle, the other raised as she chomped down on her perfectly manicured nail. His phone had been placed in the center of the island. It was pointless to even look at it now. He should have taken the third stool, but instead, he stood next to Amanda. When her father cleared his throat, he decided that might have been a mistake.

But he didn’t move.

“Did something happen?” Jackson asked, directing the conversation to what brought them together in an odd alliance.

“At about five this morning, I saw a witch flying low overhead. She stayed hidden in the trees. I almost missed her,” Decker said, swirling a spoon in his coffee. “I picked up her scent before I actually saw her. I don’t know enough about flying and hovering to understand which one she was doing, but she stayed in the air for a long time and there was no fairy dust to be found.”

“Who was this witch? Did you get a good look at her?” Jackson asked, taking the fresh cup Amanda offered him. She leaned against his hip. It was subtle, but it was apparent the prince noticed by the way her father curved a brow.

Though, Jackson thought he saw the corner of the prince’s mouth turn upward.

Wishful thinking.

“I didn’t get a good look,” Decker said, leaning back in his chair. “Just as I saw her, a light-green cloudlike puff, similar to the northern lights, covered the house outside whatever that protective thing is that Prince Albert cast.”

“In private, please call me Albert.”

Decker sat up taller. Most of their lives, once people heard their last name, they treated them with kid gloves, staying aloof and keeping their distance.

“I called… Albert… when we lost chase of the witch.” Decker stared into his mug as if it were his safe haven.

“I was already on my way over about something else.” Alfred crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“What’s that, Dad?” Amanda asked.

Jackson reached behind her, letting his hand rest against the small of her back.

“One thing at a time,” Albert said. His dark eyes had softened, turning a lighter, less intense black.

Jackson felt a bit of a kinship toward the man, but again, something else he couldn’t explain.

“The color of the fog is important,” Albert said. “Like Jackson, I had concerns that perhaps any faction of the royal bloodline could be responsible for either spell that has plagued Jackson for most of his life. The green glow confirms those suspicions.”

“No,” Amanda whispered, letting her body lean into him. “I can’t imagine anyone in our family?—”

Her father held up his hand. “Dark green would have meant the culprit would have been me or your sisters. Light green, what Decker describes, means anyone who has our bloodline. Aunts and uncles. Second cousins. A few outcast witches we haven’t talked to or seen in years.” Albert raised his mug to his lips, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a large gulp.

“You mentioned the Book of Shadows has only been seen by the council and your family,” Jackson said, trying to pull up everything he could remember about the witch council, but he knew almost nothing.

“Everyone on the council has royal blood. They are either my aunts and uncles, great aunts and uncles, cousins, or second cousins. This gives us twenty-nine suspects.” Albert set his mug on the granite countertop. “I’ve made a list and we can go over them, but I want to discuss the unlucky spell first.”

“What about it?” Jackson curled his fingers around Amanda’s hip. The heat radiating from her body gave him a sense of strength he’d never felt before.

And then there was the fairy dust that left her body and attached to his like some protective shield. He wasn’t about to try to figure it out at this point. They were connected. They were soulmates. Destined to be together.

“I had my secretary dig into your background and analyze your life?—”

“Why?” Jackson bit down on his tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was be disrespectful, but he hated it when people dissected his life. Analyzed his every decision.

“You were the industry's golden child until about a year after your Oscar win. Your father didn’t impact you professionally until that point in your career, other than the occasional mention here and there. Mostly, it was little unlucky things that happened to you. Bad reviews. Being passed over for a role. Some bad money investments, but it all adds up to a bad luck spell.”

“My entire life, my father has had a negative impact. When I was younger, people might have felt sorry for me, but they were still aloof and didn’t treat me or my family respectfully. It got worse when I got my DUI. Everyone decided I wasn’t much different than my father.” Jackson’s stomach churned with the memory of cold, metal cuffs clamping over his wrists. He’d had two beers at a party, and not half a mile from the club, he got pulled over by a cocky police officer with an axe to grind.

Jackson didn’t fight taking the breathalyzer, stunned that he was indeed over the legal limit. He wondered if anyone had spiked his drink because he felt fine. Not even a little woozy. At the time, he’d maintained that it was all a setup, but he still had his license suspended for six months and had to perform community service.

“That’s just it, son. I rewatched the footage of both of your arrests and other things, and I can see the effects of the spell. That cop acted so differently around you than he did other people. The man you hit? I watched you turn and take two steps in the other direction before nailing the guy in the nose.”

“He did call my sister and mother some horrible names.” Jackson’s gut tightened. He remembered pausing and clenching his fists when the asshole hurled the insults, but Jackson had every intention of walking away. The one thing he had learned from the old man was that violence got you nowhere, fast.

But for whatever reason, he couldn’t resist the urge to crack his knuckles against another man’s bones.

“Are you a heavy drinker?” Albert asked the question with great authority in his voice.

“No, not really. But I enjoy a good bottle of wine and like my beer now and then,” Jackson said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He pulled his hand from behind Amanda’s back.

“Feel like taking a drink now?”

“Hey,” Decker said. “I know you’re a prince and all, but my brother is a good man and not a drunk.”

“I know that,” Albert said, drawing his index finger and thumb down the sides of his face, rubbing together at the tip of his square chin. “An unlucky spell would impact everyone who comes in contact with Jackson. If they feel animosity toward him, the chance of conflict is greater. For Jackson, it not only forces him to do things he wouldn’t normally do but also makes him combative. Now that the spell is gone, I suspect you’re feeling perhaps a little more confident and less defensive.”

Jackson opened his mouth but had no response. He had no idea. The only feelings that had changed or intensified were those he had for Amanda.

“I had a shot the morning after you banished the spells from my body,” Jackson said.

“I would too, under those circumstances.” Alfred waved his hand in the air as if to toss something away. “Also, you’ve been living with that spell for so long that it’s touched your core personality.”

Jackson glanced to the ceiling. Before the Oscar win, he’d been riding a high confidence wave. He had never been cocky since his mother taught him that humility would take him far, but he had to admit that after he’d been awarded the most significant achievement his industry could offer, his self-doubt intensified. He constantly felt like he waged a battle inside his head between who he knew he was and who he believed the world saw him as.

“Can someone cast this spell on me again?” Jackson asked.

“Up until a few hours ago, they could have,” Alfred said.

Amanda curled her fingers around his biceps, rubbing gently, before gliding down his arm and taking her hand in his.

He didn’t resist.

Having her next to him gave him strength, and he felt a calmness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Daddy, you didn’t.” Amanda stared at her father with wide eyes.

“Someone want to clue me in?” Jackson asked.

“My father made you an untouchable.” She folded her arms.

“What’s that?” Jackson asked, staring into a set of blue eyes that sucker punched his ability to see past her, not that he wanted to.

“Anyone who tries to use black magic, or any magic, on you will suffer a painful fate. It’s temporary but will last long enough for us to know who it was,” Alfred said softly, looking down at his mug, cupping it with both hands.

For the first time since Jackson had met the man, he showed a sense of vulnerability.

“Good way to catch the culprit,” Jackson said, fanning his thumb over Amanda’s soft skin on the inside of her wrist. “So, why the spell on my house?”

“To protect my daughter, your family, wolf friends, anyone who isn’t you.” Alfred waved his finger toward Amanda. “And especially my grandchild.”

“Daddy. That’s ridiculous. I don’t even want to talk about it,” she said, glaring.

“Maybe not. But it’s a fact. I’m sure Jackson and his brother can smell that child. I can feel the presence forming. I’m sure if you focused, you would too.” Alfred kept his gaze on the mug, twirling it between his fingers.

Jackson knew this was the last thing Amanda wanted to discuss. But he also knew Alfred wasn’t being honest about something. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Making you an untouchable poses two problems.” Amanda squeezed his hand. “The spell has an expiration date, which means our time is limited.”

“What’s the second issue?” Decker asked.

“Until then, my father’s powers are rendered useless.”

“What?” Jackson said, snapping his head in her direction. “The most powerful wizard known to your kind besides Trask has no powers? Because of me?”

“This is crazy,” Decker said, shaking his head. “I feel like you’re the only man who can save my brother from this crazy witch, and now you’re telling us you can’t.”

“My powers are needed to protect him. The witch or wizard who created the blocking spell is not only powerful, but they are a master of black magic. Outside of Toldar, I don’t know anyone possessing that ability and he wouldn’t because his child’s existence is rooted in this legacy,” Alfred said. “I know my daughter doesn’t want to deal with this yet, but the rise of the two moons could only mean one thing and it had nothing to do with Jackson claiming you as his mate and everything to do with the creating of wizard and witch fairies.”

Jackson coughed, pounding the center of his chest with his fist.

“We might as well address the elephant in the room.” Alfred took a long sip, draining the mug.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Decker said, standing. “Call me if you need me.”

A long silence filled the room. Jackson continued to hold Amanda’s hand, which trembled slightly.

Or maybe that was him.

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this.” Amanda’s voice dripped with a confidence he wished he could muster, though he didn’t feel as intimidated as when he’d first met her father. “We need to focus on catching whoever did this.”

“Whoever did this either knew he’d already imprinted on you or knew he would. They also knew about the Legend of the Fated Moons, which isn’t something we teach. Not because we didn’t believe in it, but because of those who would do exactly this to prevent it.” Alfred lowered his chin, his dark gaze leering out from under his eyelids. “Of the twenty-nine potential suspects, I’ve narrowed it down to three.”

“How on earth have you done that?” Jackson asked, thrilled they’d moved from the mating topic.

“Before I made you an untouchable, I used black magic to check for black magic.”

“Daddy, you can’t do that without the council’s blessing. I’m shocked they agreed.”

“They didn’t,” her father said.

“Oh no,” Amanda said softly, tugging her fingers from Jackson. She made her way across the kitchen, taking her father’s hand. “When they find out, they could permanently strip you of your powers and title.”

Jackson’s heart tightened, constricting his breath. “I can’t let you do this. You have to find a way to reverse it.”

“It’s too late for that, son. And I’m not doing it just for you.” Alfred patted Amanda’s hand. “I have my daughter and a grandchild to think about, which is all part of a bigger picture. Something Trask reminded me of when he and I discussed me doing this very thing.” He let out a long breath. “Trask is one of a kind. His child is the only witch wolfairy we know of. The universe went to great lengths to make this union possible. To make sure we would have more. Who am I to try to stop it?” He waggled his finger. “And the new history books have confirmed it will be wizard or witch wolfairies.”

“I’m begging you to find a way to pull your powers back. I can’t be responsible for anything happening to you, sir.” Panic gripped his insides. The crushing pain in his chest made it impossible to take a deep breath.

“You’re not responsible for any of this, and I would gladly give up my powers to protect any one of my girls and the men they are destined to be with. I know this isn’t easy. But we need to accept this. Embrace it. And catch the witch or wizard who tried to prevent it.” His voice vibrated against the walls.

Amanda hugged her father, kissing his cheek. “You should have discussed this with us first.”

“There was no time. Jackson here is a good man. Deserving of your love. You two are destined to be together, and I will do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.”

Jackson swallowed. There was no point in arguing. He sucked in a deep breath and moved across the room. “I’ll do everything I can to always keep Amanda safe.”

“I know you will,” Alfred said, stretching out his hand.

Jackson shook it. A warm calm settled in his belly. Amanda rested her head on her father’s shoulder. Her eyes danced when she smiled at him.

“Who are the three witches and wizards you narrowed it down to?” Jackson asked.

Alfred took out a small notebook from his back pocket. “My third cousin, Benny, but honestly, I think he’s too stupid to carry out magic of that magnitude. As kids, he could barely turn a toad into a rabbit.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Jackson asked. The vision of the wolves he’d met in the woods turning into sparrows came into his mind.

“Yeah, Dad. You would have crucified me and my sisters if we ever tried a spell like that.”

Alfred let out a small laugh. “Times were different when I was a child. The line between magic and black magic was a little blurrier.” He lowered his chin. “And all of us had to use a little black magic to hone our skills.”

“How is that possible if it’s outlawed?”

“What’s illegal is to use it outside of a controlled environment.” Alfred waved his hand. “But while in school, it’s a necessary evil in developing our craft. It’s why a Book of Shadows exists in every coven. Non-harming black magic spells are used as teaching tools. Stepping stones. The only way I can describe it is to compare it to vampires and how they learn to control their need and thirst for human blood. They have to feed. It’s their only way to survive. It’s in their nature to drain a human, which turns them. But the laws between the paranormal and humans prevent that without consent. Vampires must learn what the tipping point is between feeding and when it would cause a human to either go mad or become a vampire themselves. As witches and wizards, it’s our nature to use magic. Just like it’s your nature to shift to a wolf and hunt, something you have to control as well.”

“As pups, we must learn to control the desire to kill our food. Sounds barbaric, but it’s part of being a werewolf.” Jackson scratched the back of his head. “But Benny could have been honing his craft all these years, practicing black magic in private.”

“True, but he’s still kind of dumb,” Amanda said. “He’s fumbled even the simplest of spells.”

“Then there is my father’s brother, George.” Alfred flipped the page. “But I suspect he’s using black magic to keep his sex life going.”

Jackson choked on his own laugh. “They make a pill for that.”

“That’s what I told him,” Alfred said. “But he’s a proud wizard and I suspect he doesn’t want the young ladies he dates to know, much less have to ask for a prescription.”

“I never needed to hear this conversation.” Amanda breezed by, running her fingers down Jackson’s back before grabbing the coffee pot and pouring another round. “Who’s next?”

“My sister.” Alfred leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. His dark eyes glistened with orange specks. “She’d always been a rebel without a cause as a child. The dark side seemed to have a constant pull on her until she met and married Henry. It was only then that she took on her royal responsibilities with style and grace. I have a really hard time wrapping my mind around the idea this could be her, but she makes the most sense, and her magic is powerful. while she’s been less vocal, she’s never liked mixed species, nor does she accept wolfairies.”

Jackson didn’t like the sound of any of this. “Any chance she could know you tested her?”

“No.” Alfred shook his head. “Only Trask or I would be able to see something like that. But she’d easily be able to tell I had given up my powers.”

“Does your spell on my house prevent anyone from coming inside?”

“The only ones who have free access are the two of you and your siblings. Even I need permission from you to cross the property line.”

“Where is your wife?” Jackson asked.

“At home,” Alfred said, cocking his head.

“I saw your car here, so I suspect you didn’t fly.” Jackson pointed his finger toward the ceiling. “I still don’t understand why you can and others can’t.”

“It has to do with my mastery and my position as leader of the royals,” Alfred said. “And I have no powers right now, so it’s not possible.”

“I understand, but how easily would it be for your sister to know you had no powers?”

“All she’d have to do was be in the same space as me.”

“So, if she was flying overhead, and you were driving below, she might be able to sense that?”

Alfred nodded.

“Maybe you and your wife should stay in my house until you get your powers back.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The song “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” by Creedence Clearwater Revival rang out.

“My phone,” Amanda said, racing to the kitchen table, digging into her purse. “I’m surprised it’s not dead since I didn’t charge it last night.”

“Who is it?” Jackson asked.

“Auntie Alley.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “She’s been trying to reach me since we made our announcement. I haven’t responded.”

“Answer it,” her father bellowed. “I hate to admit it, but since she’s reaching out, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s her.”

“Hey, Auntie, how are you this morning?” Amanda tapped the speaker button, placing the phone on the center of the table.

“Worried sick about you, darling. Why are you lying about that wolf? Why would you tell the world you’re in a relationship with that despicable creature? Don’t you remember what he did to your uncle?”

Amanda glanced between her father and Jackson.

Jackson rested his hand on her back, rubbing up and down gently.

“He didn’t do anything, and I’m not lying,” Amanda said.

“Should I tell her about you mating with me?” she projected.

Jackson nodded.

“We’re fated mates,” she said. “He imprinted. I accepted. We mated. We belong together. Besides, I love him.”

Love.

The word tickled off Jackson’s ears and rolled around in his heart.

“That’s impossible. You’re not a wolf. And he’s vile. He’ll turn out just like his father,” her aunt said.

Jackson took the notepad and scribbled: Ask her to coffee. He glanced over at Alfred, hoping he agreed.

He nodded.

“Why don’t we have breakfast? It’s been forever since we’ve had a chance to chat. We can talk about this then. In person.”

“I’d love to see you, dear,” Alley said. “And hopefully talk some sense into you. I can’t imagine your father is all right with this. He’s got to be out of his mind.”

“How about we meet at Ricki’s in an hour?” Amanda asked.

“Perfect, dear. See you then.”

Amanda tapped the off button on her phone. “If she’s the one who did this, and she knows about the Legend of the Fated Moons, then she knows she’s too late.”

Jackson pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “Maybe we’re wrong,” he whispered, knowing they weren’t. She made the most sense, and she had always been the most vocal about her distaste for wolves and, in particular, Jackson and his family.

“After that call, I know it was my sister,” the prince said.

“I’m surprised you’re so quick to place blame,” Jackson said, arms circling Amanda in a protective hug. Her hands glided across his lower back, fingertips gently digging into his muscles.

“I’m being realistic,” Alfred said, the corner of his lips turning downward. He scratched the side of his cheek. “And we have to believe she has a new plan. One that includes the destruction of your child.”

Jackson swallowed.

“You all act as though you are one hundred percent positive I’m going to have a baby,” she muttered.

“Because you are.” Her father arched a brow. “Twins, to be precise.”

Jackson blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Trask saw it in a vision this morning. A little girl who will be Dormon’s mate and a little boy who will be Sadie’s mate. Dayton is tickled pink. According to Trask, he did a backflip right off the front porch. Said it was wild to see a man of that size do something like that. But Drew?” Alfred chuckled. “He’s not overly thrilled with the idea his little girl is already spoken for.”

“Daddy, sometimes your sense of humor is not funny at all.” Amanda planted her hands on her hips and glared.

Alfred waved his hands. “I’m not kidding, sweetheart. And your mother has already started knitting little booties. She even started in on little wolf ones for when they are in pup form so they can freely roam around on our new hardwood floors. And she’s pulled out her wedding dress. She’s hoping you still plan on wearing it.”

“I’m not pregnant and you people are just nuts.” Amanda looked up, gently brushing her lips against Jackson’s in a sweet, tender kiss. “I need to go shower if I’m going to meet my aunt.”

“Jackson is going with you,” Alfred said in an authoritative tone. “Only way to end this.”

“I planned on it,” Jackson said.

“We need to have a clear plan with this meeting since I can’t be there.” Alfred pulled out his phone. “I’ll get your sisters to hide somewhere so they can keep an eye out.”

“Good idea,” Jackson said. “I’ll put my sisters on the house and get Decker and a few of his buddies to hang around the coffee shop as well.”

“If it’s her, do you really think she’ll try anything in public?” Amanda asked.

“Of course she will,” Alfred said. “I’m going to call a couple of people on the council I know and tell them what I suspect. They will be bound by witch law to check it out and bring the proper local authorities. I’ll also inform Trask and, of course, the Twilight Crossing Council,” Albert said.

“They will arrest her if she’s used black magic,” Jackson said. “They will strip her of her powers. Take her magic book and?—”

“We know the law.” Albert nodded. “We’re prepared for the consequences.”

“This really sucks,” Amanda said as she turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Jackson downed the rest of his coffee, realizing he would excuse himself so he too could get ready.

In his room.

Where Amanda was.

“I hope your sister had nothing to do with this.” Jackson might not have ever liked the woman or what she’d said about him and his family, but she was Amanda’s aunt.

“My sister has been practicing a type of magic that is dangerous and is banned, but for a royal to use it, she will have to face a trial by both our coven and the Twilight Crossing Council. They will lock her up in a paranormal prison, much like where your father is. They will take her Book of Spells and her life’s work will never be seen again. But we will conjure her powers and destroy them. And we will destroy her spells, both good and evil. She will be reduced to a human with no powers at all.”

“That seems harsh.”

“She cast a blocking spell, and she’s probably responsible for the unlucky one, which is just as bad in other ways because it has stripped you of things you deserved and manipulated people’s minds to think badly of you.”

“You never thought badly of me.”

“My magic is above that,” Alfred said.

“Amanda never thought bad of me.”

“She’s your mate.” Alfred held up his hand when Jackson tried to speak. “And before you go down the family line, we might not mate like wolves do, but there is one special person for us, and our lives only become complete and make sense when we find them. We share a close bond, so when that special person comes into our lives, our entire family is bonded to them.” Alfred dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out an old picture. He pushed the photograph across the table.

“That’s me.” Jackson snapped up the image, staring at himself at maybe three and a half or so, with the biggest smile on his face that he’d ever seen, holding a baby, but it wasn’t a baby he recognized. Not right away.

And then suddenly, his entire world spun on its axis. Everything that had ever happened to him floated across his mind, filtered through two lenses.

What happened.

And what should have happened.

“Yep. And that is Amanda. I had forgotten about this picture, but my wife remembers everything, and when we suspected you and Amanda might be a match, she pulled it out. It was the only time I believe you ever met, and it was right before we had to fire your father. It’s when you imprinted on her.”

Jackson’s heart melted into a puddle of heat in the center of his stomach. He could remember the exact emotion and connectedness to the baby in his arms, as he did to the woman he held last night.

Tears burned his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“My sister is a powerful witch, and I know she can cast such a blocking spell. I really want to believe she didn’t, but I don’t doubt she could have done her best to make sure your life was so unlucky and so unappealing that it would make my daughter want nothing to do with you, denying both your fates.”

“This is a lot to take in.” Jackson set the picture down. He had to admit that much of the self-doubt and even self-loathing because of who his father was seemed to evaporate into thin air. He wouldn’t deny the image's effect on his mind, heart, and soul.

“I understand, but I need to know that you accept this. That you’ll always do your best to take good care of my daughter and love her like she deserves.”

“I will do my best to make sure no harm comes to her,” Jackson managed.

“And the latter?” Alfred asked.

“It’s strange to know that I’ve always loved her. That my heart belongs to her.” Jackson nodded. “I can’t not love her.”