by A. E. Via
“Futu-i.” Adres groaned, palming his heavy cock.
He stared down at his dick as if he had not seen it in years. He could not remember the last time he had. Sex or even getting off was something for young vampires just discovering their abilities or for the mated ones. Adres had resigned himself to a life of solitude. It was his destiny to selflessly provide for his people when all else failed them. That job was not possible to do with a mate, and after hundreds of years, he had assumed fate agreed.
He can’t be. Adres arched, his body burning at the memory of Macauley’s touch. He just can’t.
His mind rebelled at the idea, but his lower head pulsed far louder, causing him to groan into his fist. He refused to touch his dick. He could fight this.
Lubrication and elixir leaked from his slit onto his stomach. He trembled in shock, or maybe it was desire, he couldn’t be sure. He was three hundred and sixty-one years old, and no one had ever aroused him to hardness, to such ache, and they were not even in the room. It was the mere thought of Macauley that had him feeling as if he was fifty again and remembering what carnal excitement felt like.
Last night, Adres reveled in being reckless and furious. Being pinned against a tree by an imposing alpha, his naked body pressing so hard against Adres he could barely catch his breath. Macauley thrusting his delicious power into him—
“Ungh.” Adres jerked in surprise as his dick erupted, spewing his seed across his abs in wide arcs. He slammed his eyelids closed and gripped the covers at his sides as his body seemed to splinter into a thousand shards of ecstasy.
“Zeii,” he panted, his head spinning from the sensations.
His body apparently recognized his beloved, and maybe even a part of his heart did as well. But Macauley’s wolf would need to connect with Adres’s soul to recognize his mate… and it was most unfortunate that he had lost that part of himself long ago.
Macauley sat in Justice’s spacious eat-in kitchen, stuffing his face with Henry’s meatloaf and homemade mashed potatoes he’d made last night. It was a bit early in the afternoon for such a heavy meal, but he’d slept late and couldn’t recall eating lunch yesterday, much less dinner. He spooned some extra gravy onto his potatoes, almost moaning at how rich and fluffy they were. Macauley didn’t know how Henry—a vampire who couldn’t tolerate human food—could become such an amazing chef. But when the vampire king’s true mate turned out to be a shifter, Henry didn’t hesitate in mastering the care of the king’s beloved as well. Which meant learning how to do more than warm blood to the perfect temperature.
“Hey. I figured I’d find you in the kitchen, greedy,” Taleb said instead of offering a courteous good afternoon. He sat across from him and placed his briefcase on the floor at his feet before he promptly pulled out his laptop.
Of course. The guy had to be reading or researching something all waking hours, or else he’d have a fit. He literally had before. “Don’t you get tired of reading or looking shit up all the time?”
Taleb snorted, taking no time to come up with an appropriate analogy. “That’s like asking if your wolf gets tired of calling people out on their bullshit.”
Macauley chuckled for the first time in days. “Okay. I get that.”
“Exactly.”
Taleb was too damn smart for what was necessary. However, his ability was one of the most coveted among them. If either of them struggled with understanding a situation, one slight push of Taleb’s power could instantly bring about awareness and insight. But if Taleb used his ability when he was angry, his baby brother’s power could produce a knee-buckling headache, their minds unable to tolerate too much of his knowledge. Perhaps it was good Macauley had run into him first before he tried to question Wrath’s mate.
“I didn’t just come to eat, all right.” Macauley scooped up the remaining gravy with his last roll and shoved the entire lump of bread into his mouth, his cheeks bulging when he mumbled, “You wouldn’t happen to know what Henry’s making tonight, would ya’?”
Taleb gave him a bored stare.
“Seriously. I was hungry, but I was hoping to run into Bell. Has he come over yet?”
“I don’t think so. After what happened last night, I’m sure Wolf will insist on accompanying him wherever he goes today.” Taleb tapped on the keyboard a few times, already distracted by whatever he was reading on the screen. “Until Adres wakes anyway.”
Well, that didn’t last long. Macauley hadn’t thought of Adres for a whole minute. “Can I ask you something?”
Taleb didn’t glance up from his screen. “I don’t know… can you?”
Macauley sucked his teeth. “I’m not one of your students.”
“You’re right. Because my students know proper English.”
Macauley pushed his empty plate away, getting annoyed with his little brother. Ever since Justice had asked Taleb to create a more technically challenging curriculum for their pack’s grade school, he’d been even more irritating, behaving like a snotty Harvard professor.
Those poor pups.
All kids were educated by the pack’s teachers until they reached maturity—or their first shift. It would be disastrous for a shifter or the students in public school to witness that, since the first shift rarely went smoothly. Then if the teen chose to attend public high school or college—Justice was the first Alpha Zenith to encourage that—or any form of higher education, it was always supported.
“So, um. I can’t help but notice that you and Henry have gotten pretty serious lately.” Macauley said casually, though it felt as if wasps were trying to escape his stomach. “He’s beginning to smell like you.”
“Yes.” Taleb’s cheeks tinged a light pink under his neglected beard, but the stern set of his jaw stayed in place. “I’ve come to love him very much.”
Macauley leaned forward, his eyes wide. “Wow. Love. That’s… intense.”
“Correct. It is very intense,” Taleb declared, a low growl emanating under his breath as he lifted his blue eyes to meet his.
“Okay.” Macauley frowned. He didn’t know where the aggression was coming from. But he wasn’t disapproving of his brother’s pairing. He was hoping for some understanding for himself. “Is it… I mean… was it difficult to fall for someone that is not your true mate?”
Taleb steepled his hands together in front of his nose, as if he were contemplating his answer. “No. With Henry… everything just came naturally. Like any other man who falls in love with another. Why would I toss aside the most caring, compassionate person I’ve ever met… in hopes of my true mate finding me soon?”
“I hear what you’re saying, bro. But we’re not just any shifters, Taleb. If I can play devil’s advocate for a moment. What if your true mate comes after you’ve already claimed Henry? How could you refuse them? And wouldn’t doing that have an effect on the prophesy?”
“I’m not concerned about that at all. Because if he or she does come, my true mate… then they will simply join us. The same for Henry. He has a true cherished out there as well. It is destined my mates will care for each other in my absence.” Taleb had to leave on learning sabbaticals for many days at a time; he had probably worried how he’d keep a mate from being lonely.
Macauley gaped. Two mates, maybe three! Why, you greedy little ass… “Keep them both. Just like that. You have to admit that’s not exactly normal, Taleb.”
“Yes, Mac. It’s going to happen just like that. And for future reference, you should try to eliminate that word from your vocabulary. People—especially humans—have a way of redefining what is normal until it suits their particular ideologies. Then, it’s normal.” Taleb gazed at his laptop as if he was mesmerized by something on the screen. “Whomever I choose to love and claim as my mate, however many, will be my normal.”
Macauley exhaled an exasperated breath before his wise brother added, “Maybe you should stop concerning yourself with the status quo, Mac. Stop searching for validation and do what you know feels right to your soul.” Taleb sm
irked as he stared deep into Macauley’s eyes as if he could see something there no one else could. “Your wolf is never wrong, Mac. You don’t need me or Belleron to tell you what he’s already confirmed.”
After Taleb left, Macauley didn’t linger around Justice and Wick’s office waiting for Belleron. His little brother was correct, as usual. Macauley needed to stop seeking validation to do what he knew felt right. There was only one man he needed to speak to, so Macauley went to his woodwork shop to complete one of his orders and to wait for Adres to wake.
The afternoon crept by at a snail’s pace as he continued to glance at the slowly setting sun. It was almost sacrilege for him to think this, but get the fuck out of here, sun.
Macauley hefted the new coffee table he’d made for Michelle—an unmated female beta he’d been known to visit with during the full moon and a few times in between—in exchange for a new pair of jeans and some North Face hiking boots.
The shifters who left the pack lands to work in human establishments would often use their paycheck and employee discount to buy goods to barter with at home since Justice didn’t require they pay rent or utilities. But everyone was expected to contribute; no shifter was permitted to laze around all day. Packs took hard work and mobility from its members to function properly and prosper. Money wasn’t something they needed an abundance of when they were efficient at living off the land.
However, the vampires were a different story. It was a good thing Wick had come from wealth because he’d had to make significant renovations to accommodate the vast comforts his royal court was accustomed to.
Macauley walked the quiet path towards the other side of the compound, shaking his head at how quiet and depressing it was. The yards were usually filled with energetic pups chasing each other and playing games, pack members visiting with friends after work, and farmers in the fields, wrapping up for the day. The pack officers had immediately implemented a 6:00 p.m. curfew, so most of the pack were already sheltered safe inside their homes with their families.
Macauley hoped that after twenty-four hours of incarceration, the prisoners Wick had detained would be ready to talk. Justice would need answers before he allowed things to go back to routine, and they were all free to roam the woods without the threat of danger.
Macauley waved his free hand at one of the guards walking the perimeter.
“Evening, Mac,” Zorn muttered, not breaking stride. “Where are your shadow puppets?”
“I made them stay inside.”
“Oh, I bet they loved that,” Zorn chuckled, never taking his sharp gaze off the tree line as he continued past him.
Bundy, Rich, and Anna had lost their shit when he enforced the curfew on his own betas as well. Anna questioned if Macauley took her title seriously. Even after promising to come back and get them before he went to the war room tonight didn’t appease them. He had not had the time nor patience to explain to them that, yes, as his betas, their jobs were to be at his side, but as their alpha, it was his duty to keep them safe.
Besides, he feared his young friends would see battle soon enough.
Macauley didn’t need to knock when he approached Michelle’s cabin; she was already standing in the entranceway waiting for him in a light pink, lacy teddy thing. “Holy shit.”
She smiled, her bronze-colored feline eyes glittering with seductive mischief. “Now, that’s what I like to hear when my alpha sees me.”
She held the door open wide enough for him and the table to pass through. Once he was inside, she closed and locked it behind them. From her blossoming scent, it was obvious that her intention was not for him to just deliver the table and make their barter. She had something else to sweeten her deal.
Macauley set the table down in the center of the sheepskin rug in her living room. She had a small, one-level, one-bedroom cottage that she’d decorated nicely. The love seat and recliner in front of the television were adorned with thick throw pillows and smelled of her natural sugary scent. The fireplace was roaring, and the interior was so warm it’d have made any man want to take his hat off and stay a while.
He’d always felt relaxed and satisfied when he was in her bed but never felt much more. Neither did she, and it was pointless for her to try to pretend she did. He would know of her dishonesty. Therefore, Michelle had always been bold and direct in what she wanted from him.
His dick.
And Macauley had appreciated that confidence. Had appreciated the hell out of it all over her cabin. But as he stood there gazing at all her supple, creamy skin and those endless legs that used to clamp around him and hold him captive, he felt nothing. Her black-widow mating habits used to send fire streaking through his balls. Now, all he could think of was that the sun was down, and how late would Adres be sleeping in? Was he exhausted from fighting? Had he fed before he went to bed?
Goddammit! Who did he feed from?
“Mac, baby.” Michelle opened her sheer robe a little wider. “I can see last night has you crazy tense. Let me take care of that for you.”
His stomach clenched, and his wolf growled inside his chest. Shit. The thought of Michelle touching him made him not only physically sick but mentally too. This was all the signs he needed to know the truth. Adres was his—he was his true mate. Had to be. Because there was no explanation for why he wasn’t ripping that flimsy piece of nothing off Michelle’s body and devouring her like he’d always done. And after last night, he should want to wind down in the best way possible—with mind-numbing sex.
But Adres’s mature, stern face was all he could see. His strong body was the only one he wanted to feel. Macauley wanted that adrenaline he’d felt when he was battling Adres’s shields and combating his power that almost matched his own. His heart battered against his ribs at the realization.
This is incredible!
It was near dark outside. He needed to leave. If Adres wasn’t awake yet, well, then he was going to extend him the same courtesy of showing up in his bedroom like he’d done to him.
“I can hear your heart beating faster.” Michelle licked her lips, looking resplendent and smoldering as she stalked towards him. She had a sinful sway to her round hips that made alphas fall to their knees… in private. “You can give me all of that pent-up frustration, handsome. Because you know I can take it.”
Her purring sounded like hornets buzzing in his ear. He didn’t mean to be rude, but a laugh bubbled up in his chest and exploded into her face. He slapped his hand over his mouth, but a couple of snorts still leaked out.
“Am I missing something?” She blinked incredulously.
Macauley hurried to straighten himself. “No, not at all. I’m just… I’m, umm…” Freaking out. Too excited to sit still.
“Hey. It’s all right.” Michelle ran her smooth palm up his chest, causing him to flinch. He tried not to overreact, but her hand felt like a rusted spike dragging over his skin. “Why don’t you let me fix you a plate. I made rib eyes, your favorite, and asparagus picked fresh from Jaclyn’s garden.
Her eyes shone with pride that she knew the way to an alpha’s heart. But his favorite wasn’t steak, it was Italian. Yep. He preferred pasta over a slab of beef. Some would say he wasn’t… Macauley snorted.
A normal shifter.
Macauley got his ass moving. He was almost to her door when she darted in front of him.
“Wait, Mac. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Michelle, but I can’t do this with you. I only came to drop off the table.”
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known you’d be in meetings all day.” She bit her glossy bottom lip between her teeth, then whispered, “I guess I’ll see you on the full moon.”
Macauley shook his head, knowing he had to be straight with her. He placed his hand on her shoulder in hopes to lighten what he was about to say. It wasn’t a totally uncomfortable feeling, but the contact was far from pleasant.
He’d just opened his mouth and uttered the first syllable of his apology when a l
oud banging startled him away from her. Macauley blinked, and the pounding started again twice as hard.
“What in the hell?” Michelle demanded, yanking her door open. Whatever she’d been about to bark died on her lips at the twin vampires standing on her doorstep.
“It would be in your best interest if the alpha left your home now.”
Macauley remembered their names were Omor and Daciana, but he couldn’t tell which one was who. Or why they both appeared to be terrified.
“What are you two talking abo—” Macauley caught a whiff of berries and leather on the wind, and his heart threatened to escape his control as he stepped out onto the porch.
Adres stood rigidly in front of the king’s legion, his eyes the color of polished opal glaring back at him, the darkness in them so bottomless, so intense, it stole his breath away.
Adres was beginning to wonder if living in the Volkov territory was good for his sanity. Anger roared through him, and rage poisoned his veins. He had his shields up, and the vampires standing behind him should’ve been thankful he had, because otherwise, the putrid odor of the hatred he felt for the female wolf would have had them choking on it.
He’d only managed a couple of hours of rest after his unexpected orgasm. He was up again before the sun had fully set, anxious to return to the woods. He knew how to protect his young wolf… his beloved. With Macauley occupying his thoughts, he’d dressed quickly and left at the first hint of dusk. The legion was already there in formation, waiting for him in two perfect rows of six. Adres nodded to them, and they bowed before the Lord Protector began to tell him about their assigned posts for the day.
However, he had not heard a word after he’d caught Macauley’s scent coming from a direction that was not his home. He began moving towards it without a second thought or to what he would do when he found him. He thought perhaps Macauley was at one of the pack officers’ houses, or one of his betas’, but Ramon informed him—as he doubled his speed to keep up—that mostly unmated women lived on this particular side of the compound.