Stone Prince: Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Royalty Romance (Warriors of Stone Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Your FREE Romance Book

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Stone Lover: Warriors of Stone 1

  Stone Guard: Warriors of Stone II

  The Mountain King: Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  Stone Prince

  Warriors of Stone III

  Emma Alisyn

  Hard Candies Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Emma Alisyn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Line Editing by Michelle Hoffman

  Line Editing by Danae Ashe

  Proofreading by Sayyidah Ali

  Contents

  Your FREE Romance Book

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Stone Lover: Warriors of Stone 1

  Stone Guard: Warriors of Stone II

  The Mountain King: Sneak Peek

  Your FREE Romance Book

  About the Author

  CLICK COVER TO CLAIM YOUR FREE SHIFTER ROMANCE!

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  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my beta readers Jane Loyless, Christiana Davis and Joy Kiili.

  1

  Prince Geza watched the ceremony, arms crossed over his chest, failing in an attempt to dampen his external glee to a dignified glow.

  Dignity wasn’t usually a priority.

  “Congratulations,” Malin said, voice dry. “Though, I can see my felicitations are unnecessary.”

  Geza grinned. His elder brother was jealous. Classic. “Face it, I did what no other Ioveanu has ever done. Matched a couple for love, and once she starts pushing out garlings, my triumph will be complete.”

  “The parents of said garlings might think it’s their triumph,” Surah said, joining them. She had her eldest child on her hip, stomach already visibly swollen with the second. His half-brother and half-sister were multiplying, he’d give them that.

  Though the thought of them multiplying . . . ack. Thoughts, begone. He knew Malin and Surah weren’t related, even if they were both his half siblings, the lynchpin of the family. Still.

  “They can think that, but I've thoroughly investigated both of their bloodlines,” Geza informed her. “If they don’t produce prime, guard stock, I’ll chew off my own wing.”

  Surah rolled her eyes. “They’re people, not cattle.”

  He snorted. She was an Ioveanu princess. She knew better. “We are all cattle when it comes to breeding.”

  Malin glanced at him. “And yet, I see no imminent breeding in your future.”

  Geza’s smile hardened. “I’ll pick a bride when I damn well please.”

  “The council would be pleased if you picked one sooner and not later.”

  He sniffed. Like he gave a flying fuck what the council wanted when it came to his marriage. “These are the same people who successfully matched our parents, correct?” Geza stressed successfully, voice dripping with sarcasm, because their parents’ marriage had been one of the more well-known relationship disasters in modern Ioveanu history. Or else, Surah wouldn’t even be alive.

  “It was successful,” Malin said. “It produced two living, capable heirs. And, indirectly, a living Princess who has also—”

  “Bred heirs like a rabbit, proving her worth as a female even though she has spent her life attempting to escape traditional gender norms?”

  Surah glared at him, though her lips twitched. She was hard to offend, though Geza tried. Often. It was a particular amusement of his, especially when she did something clever to pay him back. Ah, the good old days when their squabbles could descend into actual, physical rumbles. But she was such a grand lady now, and a mother. Malin would have a piss-poor attitude if Geza rough-housed with his own half-sister now.

  “In all seriousness, brother,” Malin said. “This matchmaking hobby of yours is admirable and certainly . . . different for an Ioveanu, but your energy would be better spent seeking your own bride, as you said you were doing several months ago.”

  Several months ago, when they’d been fending off Mogren assassination attempts, attempts which almost killed one of his best guards and that male’s new mate. Geza’s mood soured.

  “We can’t even protect ourselves, and you want me to bring some courtier’s society daughter into this mess? Surah, at least, is trained for it.”

  “Then don’t marry a courtier’s daughter,” she said. “Marry one of your guards.”

  Both Princes stared at her. “My love,” Malin began, “we’re talking about the wife of the ruling Prince and mother of his Heir. He can’t just marry a guard.”

  Her lip curled. “Just when I think you’re both normal, you prove me wrong. That’s why no one likes Ioveanus. So worried about your precious bloodline.”

  “You’re an Ioveanu.”

  “I’m a half-human bastard of a dead Ioveanu Prince’s concubine, a result of a one-night stand with a man said Prince gave her to as a favor.” Malin stiffened. He couldn’t exactly challenge his own wife to a duel for an insult she did to herself.

  Dear sister had a point. Truth was always pointy. He could wish she wouldn’t talk about about their mother in quite that tone of voice, however. He made a mental note to send Adagia some flowers since they hadn’t spoken in some time. Now, if she’d spoken of Ciodaru, the father of Malin and Geza like that. . .no one would care.

  Malin glanced at him and paused, reading his expression. “Geza, you can’t seriously be considering this.”

  “It’s an interesting idea. You know how I like interesting things.” His eyes narrowed with thought. “We live in combative times. But there are none who are suitable. Though . . . .”

  “You’re a matchmaker, now,” Surah said. “Recruit more female guards. In fact, you can have Bea handle the initial screening.
”

  Geza nearly laughed at Malin’s expression. Priceless.

  “Surah, I don’t think–”

  “Then, don’t. Think, that is.” She patted her husband’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Your ancestors are dead. They can’t actually roll over in their graves. You Ioveanu’s need fresh genes, anyway. You’re all damn near inbred.”

  Geza considered Surah’s suggestion over the next several days, going so far as to sneak a meeting with Malin’s personal assistant—now Geza’s first, human, female guard.

  “You wanted to see me?” Bea asked, entering his office.

  He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled, and studied her. She was no court beauty, but there was an enticing vibrancy to her. Lively intelligence in her dark eyes and a sweet, round face, topped with curls as endearing as they were messy. Geza was certain her mate, Sir Nikolau, appreciated that despite regular training now, she'd retained a curvaceous figure. The kind of hips and breasts a male would like to grab hold of and . . . .

  She cleared her throat. “Highness?”

  Ah, yes. Focus. Especially since her husband would object to the line of Geza’s thoughts.

  “I want you to handle a small project for me. Surah suggested it, and she’s right about some things. Sometimes.”

  She paused. “. . . Okaaay. Can I know what kind of project it is?” Thoughts flicked across her face. “Does Prince Malin know about it?”

  “Who rules here?” Geza demanded. He was tired of everyone asking him if his elder brother approved of his decisions.

  “Ah . . . you do, Highness.”

  She sounded hesitant. Geza suppressed a growl, settling for a glower. She blinked, but otherwise seemed unaffected. He was astounded that he didn’t frighten her. He should.

  “So glad of you to notice. I want you to compile a list of suitable, gargoyle females and invite them to join the training program for the guard. Make it an event of some sort.”

  “What? I mean, how interesting. Do we . . . need more female recruits? I think Kausar has about torn out all of his hair.”

  “The purpose of this isn't to increase my guard,” he said. “I’ve decided to find a wife, but she needs to be . . . .” he waved his hands. “Like you, but not human. Maybe taller.”

  She blinked. “Uh, thank you, I think? When you say like me, but not human, can you elaborate?”

  “She needs to be able to survive multiple attempts on her life, and mine,” he said. “A regular court flower won’t do, though she needs to understand court politics. I need a wife who won’t bore me, or embarrass me in public.”

  “The court ladies are very beautiful, and very excitable,” she agreed. Her lips pursed. “It's a sound idea, Highness, but if you limit the pool to highborn ladies . . .”

  True. He was certain his line could use some fresh blood. “Fine. Any female of decent family and good reputation. She needn’t be a virgin.”

  “Okay. I don’t have my tablet with me, Highness. Can we sit down later and discuss your requirements in depth? Maybe Surah should be present.”

  He grimaced. If Surah was present, he might as well invite Malin. He certainly didn’t want his brother butting his nose into the business of choosing his wife.

  “No. You can bring Niko, though. That might add some plebeian-class perspective.”

  She coughed. “He’ll be delighted.”

  “Probably not.” It was cute she thought so. He stood, prowling about his office. An idea took root in his mind. “Why not a ball?”

  He’d said an event, so why not a ball? A grand, media-blasted party where all his current, female guards could show off their skills, and eligible females could join right then and there. He’d have the evening to wander amongst them—a bevy of females in ball gowns and their best jewels—assessing each lady’s possible fitness for the more social role of Princess.

  “A ball, Highness?”

  Geza turned, eyeing Bea with no small amount of irritation. “Yes,” he replied, voice flat. “Is that a problem? You arrange these kinds of things for Malin, don’t you?”

  “I get paid for it,” she muttered.

  He waved a hand. “Speak to the accountants. I don’t deal with petty concerns like—”

  “Payroll? Budget? You are the Prince, right?”

  Geza glared. Her expression was only mildly curious, but he knew a rebuke when he heard one. He chose to ignore it—for now. She was human, after all, and couldn’t be expected to understand how important and frightening he truly was, and thus to be respected absolutely, in all things.

  “Back to the matter at hand. A ball.” He clasped his hands behind his back.

  “You wanted to find a wife from among the guards because you want someone who can handle the excitement around here. Throwing a ball will attract the wrong kind of candidates.”

  Her reasoning was sound, but irritating. “The ball is just the bait. I plan on having the female guard put on a demonstration that same evening. And you, and Sir Nikolau, and the others, will work the room and recruit eligible females.”

  Bea sighed. “It’s a unique proposition. I’ll need staff, Prince Geza. An event of that magnitude requires planning.”

  “Hire an assistant, if you choose.”

  “My budget for the assistant’s salary? What’s the budget for the ball, anyway?”

  “I said, talk to the—”

  Her expression firmed. “No, Highness. If you are going to run a side business like a matchmaking agency, you need to understand how to handle the accounting. Even Prince Malin goes over his financials, though he does have staff to take care of the day to day business. You, at least, need to determine the budget.”

  Geza rubbed his chin, eyeing her. “What would Malin’s budget be? If you tell him I asked, I will deny it.”

  Her lips twitched, but she named a figure.

  “Double it,” he replied loftily, then lifted a hand. “You are dismissed.”

  2

  Flowers. Cupcake towers. Fabric swatches.

  Rhina stared at the scattered tablets on her desk, an overwhelming sense of horror causing a peculiar sensation in her head.

  Almost as if she was about to faint.

  She gripped the edge of the desk and forced herself to stand. She could handle this. She’d been in deep-cover before, though not usually so deep she had to participate in serious discussion over things like . . . cake fillings.

  Bea rushed into the office at that moment. “The prelim is broadcasting,” she said, then stopped. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

  Rhina straightened. She’d never been sick a day in her life. She wasn’t frail, or human, though her current mission necessitated she appear so. She smiled faintly.

  “No, no, I’m fine. I haven’t had lunch.” Didn’t human women faint over not eating regularly?

  “Oh,” her supervisor said, regarding her with a frown. “Well, why don’t you order something?”

  Because that would mean talking to more people. More pretending to be normal when she walked around Prince Geza’s tower with her hackles in a permanent arch.

  “Never mind,” Bea said. “I’ll comm Niko. He’ll take care of lunch. You don’t mind if I watch the prelims while you work, do you?”

  She didn’t understand the question. “You’re the supervisor.” Which meant that Bea didn’t have to ask Rhina her opinion. The human female was baffling. She couldn’t be weak to be placed in such a prominent position in Prince Geza’s inner circle. In the past two weeks, she’d shown herself competent in her work. This was just another difference Rhina was struggling to accustom herself to. A superior asking her opinion.

  Thinking about the question, her body tensed. “No, I don’t mind.”

  She wanted to watch the prelim, too. She didn’t dare be in the courtroom while it happened, and Bea had stated, often enough, she didn’t like crowds, which explained why she was up here rather than downstairs where it was taking place.

  Rhina sat as Bea touched the screen on
the desk, and a picture snapped into view. Six months since the failed, sloppy attempt on the life of Prince Geza, and they were just now bringing to first hearing the accused members of the remaining Mogren family apprehended by the Ioveanus.

  The royal guard hadn’t caught them all though. Some of the Mogrens . . . one of the Mogrens . . . had managed to escape all detection.

  “I remember that day like it was yesterday,” Bea said quietly, watching the screen.

  Rhina glanced at her sharply. She hadn’t forgotten the human female had been present that night—and survived, which was impressive.

  “I still don’t understand why they hate him so much.”

  “Who?” Rhina asked, though she knew who Bea was referring to. The useless playboy Prince. Geza, whom she’d managed to see only twice since coming to the tower to work. But Rhina had known from the beginning that this would be a long deep-cover. Maybe years in the making. Though, she hoped for mere months.

  “Prince Geza. Well, and Prince Malin, too.”

  “And Princess Surah,” Rhina muttered.

  Bea glanced at her. “Yes, Surah, too. Or especially.” The human grimaced. “When I first was with Niko, I thought some of the purebloods disliking me would be an issue, but now I know it’s really Surah they can’t stand.”

  “She’s half-human but still considered an Ioveanu Princess,” Rhina said distantly. “It’s what scares them.”

  Bea was staring at her. “I didn’t know you were interested in court politics.”