Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Royalty Romance
(Warriors of Stone Book 3)
An assassin raised to kill her family’s enemy. A ruthless Prince determined to hunt her down. An unexpected connection from their past.
Morghanna, raised to be nothing more than a deadly servant, agrees to assassinate the spoiled playboy Geza in return for her freedom, especially after it is revealed he is responsible for the suicide of her mother ten years ago.
She doesn’t expect to find a Prince embroiled not in war or breaking hearts, but in…matchmaking? As she finagles her way into court and earns his trust, she has to make a terrible choice. Fulfill her oath to her family and betray the Prince, or circumvent the geas binding her and suffer her own execution—by his hand.
This is a steamy gargoyle shifter paranormal romance featuring royalty, assassins, strong female leads and plenty of action and adventure. If you love hot alpha men with wings and heroines over 30, download Stone Prince. Books 1 & 2 in the Warriors of Stone series are available now.
Prince Geza watched the ceremony, arms crossed over his chest, hoping he managed to dampen his external glee to a dignified glow.
“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 they weren’t siblings, even if they were both just technically related to him, the lynchpin of the family. But, still.
“They can think that, but I've thoroughly investigated both 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, expression pointed. “And yet, I see no imminent breeding in your future.”
Geza’s smile hardened, teeth grinding. “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?” He 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 more 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, and 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 certainy…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 guard’s 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,” Surah 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, and you prove me wrong. That’s why no one likes Ioveanu’s. So worried about your precious bloodline.”
“You’re an Ioveanu.”
“I’m a half-human bastard of 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, but he couldn’t exactly challenge his own wife to a duel for insulting herself the insult she did herself. But dear sister had a point.
Malin glanced at him and paused. “Geza, you can’t seriously be considering this.”
“She has a point. We live in combative times.” His eyes narrowed with thought. “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.”