Discovery of a Queen: Resurrection of Queens Book 1

Present.

I sit down at my desk with a sigh. It’s been a long-ass week since I killed Morgan, and I’m not nearly finished. I look at my computer as it flashes the date. Fuck, it’s only Tuesday.

How the hell is it only Tuesday?

Need I remind you that you’re now the alpha and high priestess of New England? My dragon, who is normally quiet while I’m at work, turns on the sass. Just what I need.

No. I haven’t forgotten. Have you forgotten that we’re an attorney, and we have twenty cases we need to work on right now?

There’s silence. Of course there’s silence. I work exclusively on supernatural cases. It’s been six long months since Kelly and Olivia pounded on my door in the middle of the damn night insisting on speaking with me about the missing shifter females. They both happen to be my betas now. Kelly is an extremely powerful witch and would be even more so if her powers weren’t partially bound. I make a mental note to ask her about that. Olivia, a panther shifter, could be an alpha in her own right but decided she wanted to work with me after I made Morgan into a chew toy. Morgan was a worthless trash fire of a person, no one seems to be missing him.

I gently massage my temples as I think back to the challenge. I surprised the shit out of the New England Coven, and they all assumed I was an extremely powerful witch. Most of them are still confused. The coven elders have been arguing about what I am since the challenge, and I’m not in any mood to disclose such valuable information. I’ve kept my dragon a secret for the last four hundred years, moving constantly to keep myself hidden. Hell, I even got rid of my Irish accent in favor of a fairly neutral American one. I still sort of hate myself for that decision. The New England Coven, without actually meeting me, had simply assumed I was a high priestess. Their ranking system within the coven is based on a witch’s aura, and considering mine is packed with powerful magic, it makes sense. The New England Pack, again without meeting me or discussing me with the local coven, assumed I was a latent shifter.

Nope.

I’m a dragon shifter. One of the last remaining female dragons on the planet, and to my knowledge, the only queen dragon remaining. Male dragons are rare, but females are almost unheard of anymore. Queens are, at least to the general shifter and witch population, a myth. We were extremely rare even when dragons were abundant. As a queen, I can harness and use magic as well as shift into a dragon. This makes me a pretty hot commodity to the male dragon populous.

Dragons are a matriarchal species, and as a queen, I’m at the top of the food chain. Being a queen’s consort is something alpha male dragons would kill and die for. Only a queen can produce another queen. Unlike every other shifter, a queen can only mate and reproduce with an alpha male dragon. Which, I feel, is shitty because all other species of shifters can mate with whomever the hell they want. I, on the other hand, am stuck with a macho, chest-pounding caveman. Well, I would be if I had a mate, which I don’t, thank the gods.

Unlike other dragons, who have heads roughly the size of a bus, a queen is smaller in stature. I’m only about eight feet in height when standing on my back legs. I saw How to Train Your Dragon once, and that Toothless dragon is pretty close to what I look like shifted. I’m lean and built for speed and stealth. And, as my fight with Morgan demonstrated, I’m stronger than I appear. I just happen to be faster than a male dragon, which isn’t that hard, to be honest, because they’re big and clunky. I can also harness my magic while in dragon form. Other dragons can only shoot fire. Pretty fire, but just normal, run-of-the-mill fire.

Queens have a unique ability. We can sense and kill archdemons. We were created for that task. My mother had been the last great battle queen, tucking her daughters, all queens, into hiding before she was slaughtered in battle by Malick, the oldest archdemon she had ever encountered, but she took Malick with her as her final act. My mother had put my two older sisters into a sleep-like stasis but ran out of time and couldn’t do the same for me, so she helped me flee Ireland instead.

I’m the only one of my siblings awake that I know of, and I have no idea how to wake my two older sisters, or even where they are. Once it became apparent that they weren’t going to awaken on their own, I started looking for them. I was attempting to research the spell my mother had used on them when I met Kelly and Olivia. There had been no way I could allow Morgan to continue selling females, so I stopped my research and kicked tainted alpha ass.

Which is how I am now both high priestess and alpha.

Rubbing my temples again, I try to fight the migraine that is steadily building behind my eyes. Morgan had to have been working with demons, though I hadn’t sensed any in the area leading up to my challenge of him. I don’t sense any now either. My challenge shattered my well-earned security, which is what I get for catching feelings and making friends. Gross. While I hadn’t used my magic outright during the challenge, the witches had been able to sense it building in my body, which demonstrated to them that I outranked all of them. They had peacefully named me high priestess, against my wishes, directly following the alpha challenge. The shifters had stood in stunned silence after I killed Morgan, shocked that I had been able to remain human the entire time. But the dominant energy I had been giving off made the entire town fall flat on the ground, even the witches buckled to their knees.

And then there’s the Council. I hadn’t been thinking, not really, when I challenged Morgan. A part of me knew I would need to report the shift in power to the Council, but that part of me had been small and screaming from a distance so far away it was a mere buzz in the background. The more emotional part of me hadn’t cared. In fact, that part of me had punted the rational, Council aware part of my brain to another planet. My instincts had screamed at me to protect the community. It appears my DNA finally kicked in after being dormant for centuries.

The Council is the united governing body of supernatural creatures dedicated to keeping the peace and holding back demons. They essentially took the place of queens after my mother died. The Council is currently run by an alpha male dragon, who is considered by shifters to be the Alpha of all alphas. The rest of the Council consists of highly powerful representatives of each species. I had been keeping my existence a secret from the Council before my challenge, fully aware of their nasty little habit of making rare species either vanish or assimilate.

The shrill screech of my cellphone startles me out of my thoughts. I stare at the screen for a minute—an unknown caller. Well, that’s never good. I hit the button to answer and put the phone on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Ms. McInnes?” a female with a light British accent asks.

“This is Attorney McInnes.”

“Please hold for Alpha Caleb O’Dwyer.”

Fuck me sideways with a cactus. That didn’t take long.

How did the Council know already? I hadn’t even had time over the last week to report the change in power. Someone else must have done it.

“Alpha McInnes,” a deep timbre rumbles through the speaker. He’s got a Scottish lilt that makes me shiver and sounds as smooth as a glass of aged Scotch. “This is a courtesy call to inform you that myself and two other Council representatives will be traveling to visit your pack.”

“Alpha, I—”

“McInnes, there is no room for discussion.” The line goes dead.

Did he just…?

Hang up on us? Yep. He did. Typical alpha male. My dragon snorts, and I can practically feel her eyes rolling.

Great. A visit from the Alpha of all alphas and the Council. There was no way this could end well. I kind of want to just bang my head against my desk, but that would only make my migraine worse. Instead, I lean down and open the bottom drawer of my desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. I don’t bother to grab a glass, choosing to pull the cork out and drink directly from the bottle.

I let the warm liquid soothe my insides. I need to let the others know. Dialing Kelly, I put the cork in the bottle and tuck it back in its drawer.

“Hey, Ayla.” Kelly’s greeting is chipper, which serves to just irritate me further.

“I’m glad you answered.” My tone is clipped, and I wince at the sound of it.

“You sound ready to kill someone. What happened?” A hint of worry creeps into her question.

“The Council. The Council happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re coming here. Sometime in the vaguely near future. He didn’t really specify.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, confirming my apprehension. No one will be thrilled to have the Council pay a visit. Considering the unique nature of our current leadership here in New England, with both the coven and the pack being ruled by one person, things are going to get interesting very quickly. Not to mention the coven’s own unique problems with them, and the shifters, ever loyal, taking up the grudge in solidarity.

“You said he? Who is he?”

“The Alpha.”

“As in, Capital A, Alpha?” I can hear the wince in her voice.

“That would be the one, yes.”

“Awesome. Well, that’ll be a day.” I grin and can practically taste the sarcasm coming through the phone.

“I’m not sure how long they’ll be here, he didn’t say that either. I’m assuming they’ll arrive tomorrow or the day after.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes as I listen to Kelly curse in several languages.

“I’ll let the coven elders know we need to keep a close eye on everyone for a while. I’m assuming you’ll tell Olivia. But, Ayla, we need to talk about what happened during the alpha challenge.”

“I know.” I sound tired. “Why don’t you come to the packhouse in an hour? I’d rather talk about this before the Alpha and the Council get here, and I only want to tell the story once.”

“I’ll bring some ice cream.”

“Bless you, you beautifully stunning amazing unicorn of a woman.”

Kelly chuckles softly before hanging up the phone. Pack land is a state forest in Vermont. We have members of the supernatural community in every form of government to ensure that our secret doesn’t get out and that we have safe places to gather. The packhouse is a mansion. It was built with the understanding that people would be coming and going constantly, so the thing is massive.

I stand and look around my office, realizing it’ll probably be a few days before I’ll be able to step foot in here again. It’s not exactly neat, there are files piled everywhere, but I know where everything is, which is all that really matters. The back wall of my office is a wall of floor to ceiling windows, giving me an amazing view of the harbor. One of my walls has a large bookshelf crammed with legal reference materials and other books. The opposite wall displays my degrees, all twenty of them, and various licenses, as well as awards I’ve won throughout my career. I’m proud of the work I do and the people I’ve helped.

Grabbing what I’ll need to work remotely from the packhouse, I quickly type out an email to my office manager on my phone, explaining about the Council’s visit, asking to reschedule my meetings, and telling her to also take the time off. I finish by informing her that, as always, I will be available by phone or email. I don’t like to cancel on clients on such short notice, but many of them have my personal number anyway. I turn the lights off and lock my office door, walking down the hall to stand before a blank wall.

I quietly chant a spell under my breath and a soft light slowly appears on the wall, taking the shape of a doorway. I step through and walk directly into my bedroom in the packhouse. Placing my things on my bed, I dial Olivia’s number.

“Ayla, what’s wrong? I can feel your unease through the pack bond.”

I keep forgetting about that damn bond. I need to shut it down.

It’s there to ensure the safety of the pack. You know this. If you open up a bit more, you would be able to talk to Olivia like you talk to me.

Because I need another voice in my head. I gently nudge my dragon to the back of my mind.

While the pack bond can be a blessing, it’s also annoying as all hell. As alpha, I’m connected with all members of the pack. I also have a blood bond with the witches that allows for the same kind of bond. The links allow me to know when a member of the community is in danger, and also lets the community know if there’s something wrong. But if I’m not careful, my emotions can leak through the bonds and cause problems. I haven’t been connected to a community in so long I keep forgetting the damn connection is even there. Unlike the instant bond that is formed when a shifter wins an alpha challenge, the bond with the witches requires actual effort from the coven. The coven gathers around their leader and pours a bit of their collective power into that person, linking everyone together in a way very similar to a pack bond.

“The Council is coming.” I’m focusing on attempting to shut down the bonds, so I’m not paying much attention to what Olivia says next.

“Please tell me this is a joke.” Olivia’s tone takes on a hard edge. While the Alpha is technically the alpha of all shifters, that doesn’t mean the pack won’t see his arrival here as a potential threat, especially to me.

Challenges for alpha are allowed within the pack, it’s shifter nature and allows a pack to remain strong and healthy. It’s not unusual for a younger shifter to challenge an older alpha. Fighting amongst other pack members is discouraged, but each pack member has a right to challenge for alpha any time they want. It’s the same for the beta position. For most, it’s extremely difficult to win an alpha or beta challenge. Not only do you need to be physically strong, but your animal has to be extremely dominant as well. Submissive shifters, while completely necessary for a healthy pack, don’t last long in either position, if they can win the position at all. As a queen, I’m more dominant than even the Alpha. I’ll need to be careful while around him so he doesn’t notice.

“I’m assuming they’ll be here tomorrow or the day after. Olivia, you need to meet me at the packhouse. I need to explain to you and Kelly what happened at the alpha challenge with Morgan. There’s so much you don’t know. I’m sorry I’ve kept secrets.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Ayla, I know you’re something we haven’t seen before. I’m not sure what exactly, but I know you’re powerful and that you have the best interest of this community at heart. So trust me, no matter what you are, the pack won’t have an issue.”

I’m worried that when the pack finds out what I am, they’ll attempt to either kill me, turn me over to the Council, or let a demon know where I’m hiding. Being a queen isn’t a bad thing, but the Council has made it clear that the rarer species are to be brought before them for “protection,” which is a fancy way of saying they’re mated off to a councilman to keep an eye on them and control them. Being a queen also paints a very large target on my back. If it gets out that the New England Pack is harboring a queen, demons and other packs will most likely attempt to attack to get their hands on me.

My status as a queen isn’t the only secret I’ve kept from my community. While I’m not entirely sure my sisters are alive since they’ve been sleeping for the last four hundred years. I’ve been on a quest for the last century to find where my mother hid them. They had willingly allowed our mother to put them to sleep, the gods only know where. Once it became clear they hadn’t woken, and it didn’t appear that they would any time soon, I knew I needed to find out what happened to them. I don’t plan on telling anyone about my sisters unless I absolutely need to.

“Ayla? I’m on my way. I assume Kelly is heading over too? What’s she bringing?”

“Ice cream.”

“Excellent. I’ll bring some wine.” The line goes dead.

I take a minute to bask in the silence. My bedroom is soundproof, all the bedrooms are because shifter hearing means you hear things you really don’t want to at night. Starting to change, I slowly and carefully remove my Armani suit. Since I’m occasionally an extra bitch, it’s a three-piece suit accompanied by my classic black Christian Louboutin pumps. I wave my hand over my suit to clean it and put it back in my closet. It’s so nice not needing to pay for dry cleaning.

Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I trace my eyes along my body. I’m not all that tall, at least not compared to other shifter women, hitting just under five feet four inches. I believe the term for my body is “slim-thick,” as I’ve seen the youths use on Instagram. I sound so old. I’m muscular, but not in a bodybuilder sort of way. My body still has soft curves with wide hips, a generous ass, and boobs that won’t quit—thank the gods for shifter genetics because these bitches would be saggy as all hell otherwise. The right side of my head is shaved, while the rest of my silky, pin-straight black hair falls to my waist. My eyes are emerald green, both in my human form and my dragon form. My skin is a pale porcelain color. I would joke that I look like a ghost, but that’s offensive to the ghosts.

I have tattoos covering both of my arms, my right side, between my breasts, and on my left thigh. I’m able to magic them away while I’m working, though I don’t usually need to unless I’m dealing with one of the older coven members. My right sleeve is a nature scene, starting with wolves and trees and working up into a mountain scene with dragons flying overhead. My left arm is all about space. The cosmos is painted in bold colors across my skin, and I’ve added a touch of magic to make the stars shine. The tattoo on my side is a family tree and made out of Celtic knots. The tattoo between my breasts is of the waxing, full, and waning moons. And the tattoo on my thigh is my dragon’s face. This tattoo I keep hidden all the time except when I’m alone. I don’t want anyone getting curious about it.

By both witch and shifter standards, I look pretty human. Which is the look I’ve been trying to go for to help me fly under the radar for so long. I typically keep how dominant my dragon is on lockdown and don’t let my magic show either. I don’t want to cause any unnecessary attention to drift my way.

I strip out of my thong and bra as I walk toward the en-suite bathroom. Thanks to my enhanced shifter vision and the solid glass roof, I don’t need to turn the light on, the light from the moon and stars is more than enough to see by. I start the shower and turn the temperature up all the way. I love my showers hot, melt the skin off your bones hot. Once it reaches its peak, skin melting temperature, I step under the spray and feel my body instantly relax. My dragon purrs inside me, happily soaking in the hot water. She’d lie in a nice volcanic pool all day if I let her.

I take my time scrubbing, exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing, and pampering myself. Tonight is going to be difficult, so self-care now is a must. I stand under the spray, staring off blankly with my hair piled on top of my head, letting the deep moisturizing conditioner do its work. I hardly notice the drops of water falling before my eyes.

It was raining the last time I saw my mother. I remember her being stunning, seeming to glow from the inside. My skin and hair color are an exact match to hers, though where I got my height from, I’ll never know, both of my parents were tall. My father standing at almost seven feet and my mom at almost six. My sisters were also tall amazons, reaching almost the same height as my mother.

My mother had been so fierce, a warrior goddess in the flesh. She had always been cautious with the three of us growing up. By the time we’d been born, rare queen triplets, queens had been hunted to near extinction. Despite this, I remember growing up thinking that there was nothing that could stop a queen and her mate, my parents had seemed invincible.

It was on that rainy night, four hundred years ago, that my mother took my two older sisters out with her. She promised to come back for me. And she did. But she was wounded, the screams of battle and the flash of fire swirling around the small house we shared. She told me she had placed a sleeping spell on my sisters to keep them safe. She had been planning on doing the same with me, but we were under attack and out of time. She told me to run, hide, and never let anyone know what I was. She died to get me out of Ireland that night. I haven’t looked back since.

I shake my head and turn the water off. It won’t help me to think about the past right now. I wrap my hair and body in a towel and walk back out into my room. I need to figure out how to tell Kelly and Olivia what I am, who I am. I’ve put the pack and the coven in danger. They’ll be a target if I stay. Which means I need to leave. I need to run again. Fuck. I’ll get Kelly and Olivia set up as my successors and then I’ll disappear.

What the fuck have I done?

Has it not occurred to you that we are safer and stronger with a community around us? Think for a minute! Yes, your mother put your sisters to sleep, but that was only because her own community had dwindled.

What? I don’t remember it that way. Yes, we sacrificed, but surely not that much.

Take a minute to think. My dragon sounds annoyed. What do you remember about the community around your mother?

I sit on my bed, still in my towel, and recall. My mother’s pack had been large when I was a child. I remember witches, vampires, and shifters living and fighting together.

And then? my dragon prompts, urging me to remember.

I close my eyes, trying to think back to right before I fled. I can feel the blood draining from my face as I realize what had once been a thriving community had dwindled to no more than a handful of shifters, the witches and vampires gone. But what happened? I can’t remember. It’s all blank.

She made us forget, but that isn’t the point. With a larger community, we were better able to hold the demons at bay.

If that’s right, we may have a fighting chance at taking out more demons and keeping the community safe. All shifters and witches know about demons, but I’m not entirely sure what they did about them now aside from seeking help from the Council. I had done my best to keep out of this world for so long, I’m going to need to catch up, and quickly, to ensure the safety of my community.

You are a queen, Ayla. Queens naturally attract communities. Your presence in the pack bond will help stabilize the entire community, the coven as well. This is what we were meant to do. You should also start attracting vampires.

I know that. But it’s hard to shake the centuries of running that I’ve done. The belief that I need to remain hidden.

I think Mother put a spell on us to make us forget, to make us run, my dragon suggests solemnly.

But…why?

It makes sense. Why I’m suddenly able to push this point now, why we can’t remember the community dissolving. Everything.

I drop my head into my hands, letting the towel that’s wrapped around my hair slowly slide to the floor. Have I been living a lie? I know my mother wanted me to live, but everything she’d done to my sisters and me doesn’t make sense. Why take away my memories? Why put my sisters to sleep? Why hadn’t her community been able to stay together? None of it makes sense.

I can feel Olivia tugging on the pack bond, letting me know she’s here in the packhouse. I can’t dwell on all of this now. I have so many other things to worry about that thinking about my mother’s motives needs to wait until after the Council’s visit. I groan and run my fingers through my hair. Right. Focus on the Council.

I stand and go over to my dresser, grabbing a black sports bra, a neon orange tank top, a black thong, and black yoga shorts. I quickly tie my hair into a high ponytail and walk out the door. The first thing I notice when I step into the hall is the utter chaos going on around me. I’m thankful for the soundproof rooms, I wouldn’t have been able to hear myself think otherwise. Clearly word about the Council’s visit has gotten out. Witches and shifters are running around, cleaning, organizing, planning, and apparently just freaking out. There’s one woman crying on a bench near the entryway to the house. Okay. So I’m going to need to address everyone once I talk to Kelly and Olivia, maybe give out a few hugs or shots. Maybe try to find some of these people a Xanax. I know this is a big deal, but my community doesn’t know just how big a deal it really is, because if the Council finds out what I am, I’m essentially going to become a lab rat or worse…a housewife.

I eye the chaos for a few more seconds before heading into my study. Kelly and Olivia are already there. Kelly has natural honey gold hair that falls to her shoulders. It always seems to have a solid beach wave to it, which I’m mildly jealous of. She’s taller than I am too, which is no surprise, coming in at five feet seven inches, so when she wears heels she may as well be a giant. Her eyes are a crystal-clear blue, and it’s easy to see how intelligent she is when looking her in the eye. She always seems to be studying everyone and everything around her, absorbing it like a sponge. Where I’m curvy, Kelly is willowy, not supermodel skinny, but in an athletic but not obsessed about it way. She’s also got a soft golden glow to her skin, which I’m also jealous of because I look like the walking dead whenever I’m next to her. She’s essentially the girl next door.

Olivia is simply out of this world stunning. Her hair is a milk chocolate brown and falls to her waist. She usually wears it braided in a way that reminds me of Viking shieldmaidens, which is pretty badass. Her hair is fairly straight but has a gentle wave to it that gives it some decent volume. She’s an amazon, coming in right under six feet, and has one hell of a rack and ass. She’s all lean muscle with some serious lady bits to go with them. The woman has legs for days I seriously lust after and have a raging lady boner for.

But their physical appearances pale in comparison to their personalities. Fiercely loyal, stunningly kind and understanding, and so damn loving of their people, both witches and shifters. I am constantly humbled that they believe in me, are friends with me, and desire to help me lead this community. While we may not have been born of the same mother, our trials over the last few months have made us sisters. The tribulations that are heading our way will cement that bond for eternity. I am one lucky bitch.

They glance over with smiles when I walk in the door, each holding a glass of wine and a bowl of ice cream. Bless their hearts. I close and lock the door to my study behind me, taking one last deep breath before joining them around the fire, sitting at the spot saved for me with a glass of wine and bowl of ice cream. I can see their curiosity behind their smiles. They’re attempting to reassure me that whatever I have to say, they’re still my friends, but they’d also really like to know what I’ve been hiding. They must be dying to talk about the Council’s visit as well, but there’s no more to tell than what I’ve already talked to them about, so we’re all left in the dark there.

I take a sip of my wine, looking between the two of them and trying to figure out where to start. Do I dive in? Do I ease into things? I feel like this should be a rip the Band-Aid off sort of situation. At least they aren’t rushing me.

“I’m a queen.”