Crowning Glory [The Royal Wolves 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  The Royal Wolves 3

  Crowning Glory

  When you are the oldest of five brothers there are certain standards that you are held to no matter what. Don't hit them (even if they really deserve it), set a good example, and keep them safe from all enemies. Lazlo Farkas has always lived by the rules his parents set out before them and tried to do his best by his family at all times. Thrust into a role of parent at too young an age, he had to keep them from all becoming the next victims of the Rebels and to ensure that all his brothers had the life their parents would have wanted. Never taking for himself, he has always given, but a man can only give so much before he wants something in return, and in her he finds it.

  Brash, loud, authoritative, and just plain crazy, Desmonda Franco is attitude personified and proud of it. She has never been one to just lie down and take it. Dishing it out was always more her style. And then it happens she meets the man that can stand up to her and even put her in her place when needed. He's strong, determined, and unbelievably sexy, and she just arrested his brother for murder. Not exactly how one expects to meet the man of her dreams, but it could have been worse…maybe.

  Thrown together against their wills but with Fate giving each a strong push, these two have more than just a killer to worry about. They have whole society wanting his head on a silver platter. Together they must stay ahead of all those that are coming for them and find a little time for romance and love, too. Oh, to be King for a day…that may be all they get!

  Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 82,960 words

  CROWNING GLORY

  The Royal Wolves 3

  Honor James

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  CROWNING GLORY

  Copyright © 2013 by Honor James

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-722-9

  First E-book Publication: October 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Crowning Glory by Honor James from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Honor James’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. James’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  I would like to dedicate this novel to my sister, Wendy P. You have always been on my side and for that I thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  CROWNING GLORY

  The Royal Wolves 3

  HONOR JAMES

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  Fall 1818

  Two days after leaving the Palace, two days after leaving their lives behind and all they knew. Their parents were gone. He knew it in his heart and knew that as the oldest he had to look after his brothers. But looking to his brothers, Laszlo wondered again just what it was he was doing. He might be the oldest and the one groomed to take over the Throne eventually, but he was nowhere near ready for it yet. He was still learning, still trying to find his own path and had needed his parents’ guidance for that. Needed his father to pass on all his wisdom and needed his mother’s softness to help him temper the hard edge he knew he already had and would always have. For his brothers’ sakes though, he had to be strong and in charge of the situation. As they were all asleep, he moved to sit near the fire, his back to it and his eyes moving over the clearing just before him. They were tucked into the trees far enough that no one could see, but he was concerned since they hadn’t gone quite as far as they should have.

  Looking over to the youngest member of their family, Laz knew he couldn’t blame Janos. He was barely four years old and his whole world, all their worlds, had been torn apart in one night of bloody violence. He’d have to remember that Janos’s little legs could only travel so fast, so he’d have to adjust their pace around his. Reaching out, he pulled his blanket up a little higher and made sure he was as comfortable as possible.

  Pushing to his feet, Laszlo wandered toward the field and then stopped. He wanted to let his Wolf out and just run for a time, work off some of his frustration and anguish at the loss of his parents, but he couldn’t risk being seen or leaving his brothers that long. He’d have to wait until they were safe, wherever that might be.

  * * * *

  Winter 1818 - Nine weeks after the death of the Royal family

  Stepping out of the house that belonged to their distant cousin through marriage, Laszlo let his eyes move over the yard and surrounding woods. Since their deaths he’d learned a lot. The time spent traveling to get there had given him a new insight into who he was and what he could do. Glancing back, he stepped out into the early pre-dawn darkness and let the change sweep over him. His only moments of freedom from the weight of responsibility were like this, when the others still slept and he woke early enough
to have that brief time to himself.

  Running through the dark, weaving through the trees with the air rushing past to ruffle his fur, Laszlo let everything sweep through his mind. He was worried. He knew they’d be coming for them. They were the last of the Royals and the last of those that could harm their cause. Though his parents had been careful, Laszlo had heard about the rebels, those that wanted out from under Royal rule, and wanted to govern their own lives as a democracy. He knew that most just wanted the Royals to step aside, but there had been two Lords in particular that had been very vocal about permanently removing the tie. It would seem that they had finally found their spines and done just as they’d talked about.

  Shaking his head, he ran faster, pushing himself to new limits and beyond. His padded feet hit the ground softly, not making a sound even with his erratic movements and directional changes as he weaved in and out of the trees and bushes. His breath came out in little puffs of white before him in the cooler air, but he wasn’t focusing on that or where he was going, his mind was back in the Palace, thinking of the last moments he saw his parents.

  They were having a big party to celebrate their anniversary and they’d come up to kiss each of the boys good night and tuck them each in, as was their way. His mother had put her hair up but for a few curls, just as his father loved to see it. He said it left him all of her neck to ravage, whatever that meant. She’d looked beautiful and just as a Queen should in her ball gown and jewels, a smile that made her angelic. His father had been dashing and dark in his tuxedo, a smile on his lips that he only ever got when he looked to their mother, it had always been slightly soft and faintly dreamy.

  Stopping on the hill overlooking the house Laszlo thumped his rear end onto the ground and sat panting hard as he realized he’d never see his father smile like that again. He’d never see his mother dressed as the fairy princess and he’d never hear her laughter as his father teased her unmercifully. She’d never tuck him in again and she’d never kiss him, her scent of sunlight and berries would never wrap around him again. Throwing his head back, Laszlo let out a sound of pure agony, his mournful howl sad and pained in the cold, dark air.

  Chapter 1

  The here and now… Laszlo

  “Joan, do you have those forms?” he asked his secretary through the open door.

  “Yes sir,” she said as she tugged the appropriate file from the holder on her desk and moved into his office. “Bernard wanted to know if he can bump your meeting on the fourth until after ten, he has a meeting that he knows will run late because of an addition.”

  “That’s fine,” he told her, taking the file and, after a brief read-through with the changes legal had made, placed his signature on the appropriate line and dated it. “Make sure these go out tonight and then take off after letting Bernard know. Also, before you take off, can you get me the number for that restaurant Miklos likes? I want to arrange his birthday dinner and I know that if I at least do it there he might actually show up.”

  Smiling, Joan nodded. “Of course, sir,” she chuckled. She’d met all the Farkas brothers over the years and had to admit that while they were all scary men, even Benedek the quiet one, they were sweet and clearly had very strong and tight family ties. She also knew that it was all because of Laszlo and the sacrifices he’d made for them as they’d grown up, doing without so that they wouldn’t have to. It had also made him into the man he was today, focused, strong, intense, detail oriented and lethal. Writing the number on a card, she quickly called Bernard’s secretary back reconfirming the new time.

  “Thank you, Joan,” Laz said, taking the card from her. “Go home now and see your baby girl. She’s getting bigger each day and you shouldn’t be missing out on her early years too much. You’ll regret it if you do,” he advised, softly looking up at her.

  “I’m heading out now, sir,” she said and knew he was right. She’d forgotten kind, he was so kind and generous to a fault, but so few ever saw that side. Then again, few truly knew him and only ever saw the surface without looking beyond. “I’ll see you at noon tomorrow. She’s got her next set of shots tomorrow morning, so she will not be happy with me.”

  “She’ll forget them as soon as you give her a hug and kiss her, now go before I have security escort you out,” he told her with a mock frown.

  Grinning, she left, giving him one last good-bye and wave before she left the executive offices and locked that main door.

  * * * *

  Four days later…

  “Hello,” Laszlo grumbled into the phone, rolling in his bed with a groan before he shot upright. “What?!” he bellowed into the line. “Who the fuck would ever think that?” he snarled as his brother Mik told him the reason for the call. “If Ben’s a murderer, I’m the Pope,” Laszlo said into the receiver. “Sit on him and keep whoever the moron was that arrested him away from him. I’ll call the lawyers and be there in an hour.” A perfectly applicable claim considering the retainer said lawyers had from him and his family and hung up that they would jump at any call from Laz, no matter the time of day.

  Tossing the phone down, he scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to finish waking before he put in the call. It didn’t really work, but he was at least coherent, which was all that was really needed at four in the morning. Dialing the number of the head of the law firm on his personal line, Laz apologized for the early time and then explained what was required. Agreeing to meet the lawyer at the precinct, he got up and showered quickly, was dressed in a pair of jeans, plaid shirt and his old leather jacket with his boots on moments later, and was out the door with time to spare. Someone was going to pay for this and he’d ensure that by the end of it, he had their head on a silver platter so that he could mount it to his wall.

  * * * *

  The song from Madagascar 2, “I Like to Move It,” was stuck in her mind and was a nightmare to try to think over and around the tune as she looked at the scene before her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Desmonda, or Demon as everyone called her, asked the rookie standing before her looking green and pasty. The crime scene behind her was a mess and a half, the rookie’s eyes already glazing over as he tried desperately not to stare.

  “They are asking if you want each part to be put in a separate bag.” His body heaved. Throwing his hand over his mouth, he didn’t wait for her to excuse him as he ran past her, rushing for the safety of the trash cans lining the main street.

  “Puke in a bag, don’t contaminate my scene!” she shouted at him and sighed, shaking her head. Rookies, you couldn’t live with them, and killing them was just too much trouble.

  No, Demon wasn’t the ME but she was the highest ranking officer on the scene, which troubled her to no end. Walking over to the Detective on-site, she accepted the coffee he held out and looked down between the two narrow buildings and filthy alley. “You do know that you have a serial now, right?”

  “Yeah, and it pisses me off,” the man said as he heaved a sigh, his large bulk shifting slightly from foot to foot.

  “Why didn’t you call for a specialist earlier?” This was the question downtown. It wasn’t like they were in freaking New York City! Hello, her mind screamed to him, wake up and smell the Gouda, asshole.

  “Because as a part of the Upper Ninth, we take care of our own,” he said pointedly.

  “Yeah, smart, and because you take care of your own another woman died. You boys of the Upper Ninth are really brilliant. Remind me never to walk in the dark in your neck of the woods.” Yeah, she was a bitch, but she couldn’t stand incompetence, and that was what the jackass beside her was, incompetent.

  Every fiber of her being had him pegged as a wife-beater who got off on making women squirm, just the way he tried to intimidate her told her that much. He was a jackass and she would bet a month’s salary that he had been out on mental medical more than once in his career and likely got off on shooting perps.

  Moving away from him, she walked toward the ME who finally made it and tossed her coffee in the
trash as she moved. She was the best there was, the best profiler ever at Quantico, and part of that was because she could usually sum people up with just a brief chat or look into their lives. Her profiling experience launched her into field work and since then she had moved up the ranks and was now lead in the Homicide Division of Quantico, a spot normally only held by a man.

  She had gotten the tip about the murders through a snitch on the streets. After pulling the computer files without the Ninth knowing, she found she had a serial on their hands, one who not only killed in NYC, but Jersey as well. The man doing these killings was an enigma, and she fucking hated puzzles.

  “Hey, Bill, about time you showed up.” She had worked with Bill Chambers on more than one occasion, he was quiet and shy, but damn good at his job, too.

  “They had me neck deep in paperwork and sent the rookie.” Said rookie who was now barfing in a plastic bag thrust into his hands by one of the EMTs. “Looks like I will be requesting another one, huh?” he asked and moved toward the body, well body pieces, as it was.

  It was half an hour later with many photos taken of the scene before Bill was able to roll the torso part of the body. The torso still had one arm attached and it was under the chest. When Bill rolled it Demon saw what she needed. “Fuck me,” she growled and then said, “Thanks for letting me hang, Bill, will you cc me in on your report?”