Page 8 of Asking Fur Trouble

Rising above the tree line stood a castle that defied earthly architecture. Massive stone towers spiraled upward, connected by bridges that seemed to float without support. The stone itself appeared alive, shimmering with veins of gold and silver that pulsed like heartbeats under the two suns.

“The Mavac Castle,” Gerri announced proudly. “Home to the Mavac bear shifter royal family and your prince date.”

Bess’s stomach flipped with sudden nerves. “You know, twelve hours ago I was filing insurance claims. Now I’m about to meet an alien bear prince?” She tugged at her blouse. “I’m not dressed for this, Gerri.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Gerri patted her arm reassuringly. “Prince Charov isn’t interested in your clothes.”

“That’s not as comforting as you might think,” Bess muttered, earning a laugh from the older woman.

They approached the massive entrance gate where two guards stood at attention. Both were at least seven feet tall with shoulders broad enough to fill a doorway. Their faces remained impassive, but their eyes tracked every subtle movement with predatory focus.

“Gerri Wilder,” one announced, his voice a rumbling bass that Bess felt in her chest. “Queen Zyre and Prince Charov are expecting you.”

The enormous gates swung open without a sound revealing a courtyard paved with stones that subtly glowed underfoot. A fountain at the center featured a massive bear rearing on its hind legs, water cascading from its open jaws.

Bess’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. This was really happening.

“Remember,” Gerri whispered, squeezing Bess’s hand, “just be yourself.”

“My boring, insurance clerk self?” Bess hissed back.

“There’s nothing boring about you, dear. You just haven’t had the chance to discover that yet.”

Once they made it inside the castle foyer, Bess’s practical heels sank slightly into plush carpets that seemed to shift colors with each step. The stone walls soared upward, inlaid with what looked like actual gemstones forming intricate patterns that told stories she couldn’t decipher.

A man of medium height with silver-streaked hair and a face lined with experience rather than age approached them with measured steps. He bowed slightly to Gerri.

“Ms. Wilder, what an honor.” His voice was crisp and formal. “I am Torborn, assistant to the royal family.”

SIX

Bess fought the urge to curtsy, settling on an awkward half-bow that made Gerri’s lips twitch with amusement.

“The Queen and Prince await in the Azure Room,” Torborn said, turning on his heel.

As they followed, Bess leaned toward Gerri. “Should I address her as ‘Your Majesty’ or?—”

“Just follow my lead, dear,” Gerri whispered back. “And try not to hyperventilate when you see the prince.”

Bess rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can handle?—”

The words died in her throat as they entered a circular room with azure-tinted windows casting otherworldly light across elegant furnishings. A regal woman rose from an ornate chair, her long silver-blonde hair cascading over shoulders draped in midnight blue silk.

But it wasn’t the queen who stole Bess’s breath.

It was the man standing beside her.

Prince Charov towered over everyone in the room, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of a charcoal suit cut to perfection. Dark brown hair was swept back from a face that could have been sculpted by Renaissance masters—strong jaw, high cheekbones, and lips that were inexplicably both firm and sensual. His eyes, piercing blue like arctic ice, locked onto Bess with an intensity that made her knees weaken.

Holy mother of?—

“Gerri!” The queen’s excited voice broke the moment. “You’ve brought us our guest!”

Gerri glided forward, embracing the queen with familiarity that shocked Bess. “Zyre, radiant as always. May I present Bess Campos of Earth.”

Queen Zyre turned warm eyes to Bess. “Welcome to Mavac Territory, Bess. We’ve heard wonderful things.”

“You have?” Bess blurted, immediately regretting it. “I mean, thank you, Your... um, Majesty.”

---