True Mates

by Noah Harris

  As with every time he thought too much about Philip marrying another, Jaeger felt the wolf inside him grow restless. It didn’t like being away from Philip anymore than the human side of Jaeger liked it. Neither of them had spoken the words aloud, but Jaeger believed Philip had come to a similar conclusion: they were both meant to be with one another.

  Fated pairs with werewolves was a rare thing, but not unheard of. One alpha and one omega bound by a thread of destiny, to be with one another. Once they had found each other, they were forever tied, no matter the distance. Often, even death didn’t sever the connection, causing the still living half of the pair misery or to end their own life. It was the sort of pairing which was deeply revered, but Jaeger didn’t think that sort of respect would be given to them, were they to discover and announce the truth. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was Orrin’s ability to twist anything to his liking.

  Dark thoughts about the sorcerer came easily. Even as a child, he hadn’t been fond of the Court Conjurer’s leering smile, or the sense that he was always up to something. He’d watched Philip and Jaeger a little too closely at times, especially as they’d gotten older. Jaeger figured it had a lot to do with how close they were, and the sorcerer suspected more would blossom between them. How the man had known was beyond him, but then again, Jaeger couldn’t see prophetic visions of the future either.

  His dark ruminations were interrupted when he heard someone call his name. His head jerked up, turning toward the owner of the voice. It was a young squire, Alistair, waving to him from the far end of the hall before jogging up to meet Jaeger. His overly long locks of blond hair bounced, as his eager hazel eyes peered up into Jaeger’s face.

  “Doing your rounds?” Alistair asked.

  Technically he wasn’t, but he nodded all the same. “Doing some last-minute checks before I see what the captain has assigned me.”

  Alistair groaned. “You’ll probably be in the throne room with everyone else. I’ll be lucky if I’m even allowed to be seen the next couple of weeks.”

  Jaeger laughed. “Well, you’re not quite a full knight yet, so they’re not going to have you front and center.”

  “Yeah, but you, being personal royal guard and all, will be right there, in the middle of everything,” Alistair pointed out with envy.

  “You really think standing around in ceremonial armor, while the nobles do their thing, is all that exciting?” Jaeger asked with a raised brow.

  “It’s better than standing on the wall or guarding the least used hallway in the entire castle. Everyone says you were already training to be a personal guard when you were my age, and I’m left to keep an eye on closets,” Alistair groaned.

  That had more to do with the King and Philip’s influence than his own skill. Jaeger had certainly had a talent for fighting, but it wasn’t good enough to merit his quick acceptance into knighthood and subsequently, personal guard. The southerners liked their traditions just as much as the northerners, and that included a long period between serving the realm, then serving the royal family. Jaeger had skipped over the extended wait, which hadn’t endeared him to many of the guards in the castle.

  “I guess being best friends with the Prince helps,” Alistair continued.

  Jaeger winced. “I suppose it didn’t hurt.”

  Alistair’s eyes went wide, realizing what he’d said. “Oh! No, I didn’t mean you don’t deserve it. I mean, the biggest mark of a great personal guard is that they’d be willing to lay down their own life to protect the royal family. Everyone knows how close you two are, so it’s not like anyone doubts what you’d do for him.”

  “But they do like to talk about how I managed to get into the ranks of the personal guard,” Jaeger said with a sigh.

  He’d had to work twice as hard to prove himself, going above and beyond anyone else at his age. His addition to the personal guard at such a young age hadn’t done him much good, but his appearance had hurt his chances of acceptance even more. The southerners were a varied lot overall, but there was a strong favoritism toward light skin and hair, and bright colored eyes. They were a robust and sturdy people, and werewolf blood made them even more solid. Jaeger, by contrast, was swarthy of skin with dark brown, almost black eyes, and jet-black hair. He was wiry when compared to many of the southern men, and the sharp angles of his face were an immediate contrast to the broader features of the south.

  In truth, he knew there were many rumors about his being a Northman. The court was willing to look beyond the same fact for Orrin, considering his high standing and loyalty to the King. Jaeger hadn’t been quite as lucky and had to endure a few snide remarks thrown his way over the years. The only thing sparing him being treated as a spy or would be assassin, besides his fierce and well-known loyalty to Philip, was his werewolf heritage. No known Northman had the wolf’s blood, and Jaeger was known by all as an omega. In truth, Jaeger believed, deep down, he was of northern blood combined with that of the Forest of Arden. His home however, was in the south, and that was where he planned to remain.

  “Aw, they’re just jealous because you got to get up high, while they have to stay down low,” Alistair said, looking uncomfortable as he averted his gaze.

  “I know what they call me, both to my face and behind my back,” Jaeger said.

  There were very few who could look beyond the favor Philip and the King had shown him by pushing him into the personal guard. It wasn’t a well-known fact the late Queen had made the King promise to care for Jaeger as if he were the King’s own blood. That vow might have been what carried Jaeger into the fold of personal guard to the royal family, but it was his dedication to their safety which kept him there. He had long ago decided he would be by Philip’s side, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted. It also meant keeping a close eye on the King, who Jaeger owed a great deal to. The man had treated him like his own blood, and Jaeger would fight to keep the King safe until either of their last breaths.

  “Well, I don’t call you that,” Alistair insisted, jutting his lip out in an attempt to look defiant.

  Jaeger laughed. “And I’m sure it makes you a lot of friends too.”

  Alistair huffed. “So what? Why would I want to be friends with a bunch of jerks who call you names for no reason other than being jealous of you?”

  Looking at the boy’s blond hair and bright eyes, Jaeger was reminded of how stubborn and idealistic Philip had been when they’d both been thirteen. As boys, they’d both dreamed of something more than the constant battery of lessons and instruction. Before Orrin began interfering, they’d spent their nights together in the same room, thinking about the future, and coming up with grand schemes.

  Many nights had been spent planning to one day slip from the castle and never look back. Somewhere out in the world there would surely be a place where the two of them could be together. In the beginning, it’d been two close friends who just wanted to escape the troubles of their lives. As they’d grown however, the conversations became more serious, more intimate. Both of them dared to dream of a life where they could be with one another, where Philip didn’t have to marry some princess, but could be bonded to Jaeger instead.

  Jaeger had never been able to bring himself to ask Philip to leave with him in earnest. He was afraid the Prince would agree, meaning Jaeger would be unable to back out. Jaeger wanted Philip desperately, but he had no desire to ruin the kingdom by taking their prophesized future king away from them. Jaeger might not have come from southern blood, but he believed completely in protecting both it and the family that ruled it. Not only that, but he owed a great debt to the King, one he aimed to see paid in full.

  Alistair peered up at him. “You’re thinking some serious thoughts right now.”

  Jaeger blinked down at him, a little startled. “Just thinking about what’s ahead of us.”

  “That was an awfully dark look for someone who’s thinking about standing around for hours at time,” Alistair teased.

  “I was just hoping the King is
doing well, he’s been looking forward to this,” Jaeger added.

  Alistair hesitated, worrying his lip before speaking. “Has he been…having a good day?”

  It was a question the guards and servants had learned to ask about the King. The decline had been slow, but steady, and the King could have days where he was not the proud and noble man he’d been before. Jaeger knew the decline of the King weighed heavily on Philip, even if the Prince tried to bear it stoically. Many said the loss of his wife, leading a kingdom through war and a few famines, had finally begun to take its toll on the King now that peace loomed. Jaeger wondered if perhaps it came from a far more immediate source, namely Orrin. The man had been nothing but faithful, and Jaeger had no proof. The light of suspicion hadn’t been cast on Orrin, but if Jaeger had even the slightest proof, he’d use it to search for more in a heartbeat.

  Jaeger nodded. “By all accounts, he’s having one of his best days in a long time.”

  Alistair brightened. “Good! I know everyone’s been really excited, and I’m just sad I’m going to miss the best parts.”

  Jaeger clapped a hand on his shoulder. “The best part isn’t standing around and watching the nobles. The best part is not being important enough to be noticed, so you can slip down to the kitchens and steal some of the food. Trust me, the cook will hand you stuff so long as no one is looking, and the food they serve to the best is worth not being too important.”

  Alistair shifted on his feet, not looking totally convinced. “I should probably let you go, I know you’ve got to prepare.”

  Jaeger sighed. “Yeah, I’ve got a whole lot of heavy and very shiny armor to put on.”

  “At least you’ll look good,” Alistair said.

  “Yeah and sweat my ass off in the process! Do you have any idea how hot the throne room gets when it’s packed? I’ll be swimming in my armor by the end of the night,” Jaeger complained.

  “If I manage to steal anything good that’ll keep from the kitchen, I’ll sneak you some later,” Alistair said as he backed away with a wave.

  Jaeger watched him go, his smile becoming melancholy as he hoped Alistair’s career with the guard would end up easier than Jaeger’s own. The boy was skilled, eager, and he was from southern blood. He had a good heart, and Jaeger hoped he managed to keep it through his growing years.

  A nearby hourglass told him he had just enough time to return to the barracks and change into his full ceremonial regalia. He’d meant to see Philip one last time before the presentation but knew he wouldn’t have the time. He’d already had his last view of Philip before he was thrown together with the Princess.

  The expression of disappointment must have still shown on his face when he walked into the barracks. A few of the guards were lazing about. They glanced over, elbowing each other and it was Dane, a regular guard of Jaeger’s age who approached him.

  “Aw, cheer up, haven’t you heard, it’s Christmas,” Dane said, leering at Jaeger.

  “I’m perfectly happy, but your concern is duly noted Dane,” Jaeger told him evenly, waiting for the man’s next comment.

  “What, can’t put a real smile on your face? Not only is your family coming here, but you get to be front and center, like everyone else who worked to get in the personal guard. Well, they did anyway,” Dane added with a grin that said he found himself hilarious.

  “You are, as ever, the absolute height of wit and cutting comments Dane,” Jaeger told him dryly.

  Dane snorted, unfazed. “You normally have a better sense of humor than this.”

  Jaeger stepped around Dane. “And you’re normally more interesting, what’s your point?”

  “Since when are you grumpy at Christmas? Any other year, you’d be annoying the shit out of us with your constant smiling and singing,” Dane pointed out.

  “Yeah, all that north blood goes right out the window, and you become the brightest thing around here,” another guard piped up from the crowd.

  It wasn’t a totally inaccurate assessment of Jaeger’s normal attitude during the holidays. It annoyed him that his fellow guards had even bothered to notice. Well, it was either that or he really was normally so chipper as to be obnoxious.

  He couldn’t very well tell them the truth. Telling the guards that his somber mood came from the loss of the man he loved would only add to his problems. While the Northern Kingdom was harsher about same sex relationships, the south wasn’t a bastion of acceptance either. The werewolves of the Forest of Arden considered it to be just another facet of nature which popped up from time to time. That attitude had only partly filtered into the Southern Kingdom, despite the close relationships between the two lands. For Jaeger, he knew his admission of love would only lead to more harassment and rumors behind his back.

  Dane looked him up and down. “You’re looking a little darker than usual.”

  Jaeger frowned. “I’m the same color I’ve always been Dane. If you’ve got a joke, just get to the punchline so I can get ready.”

  Dane snorted. “You look like someone punched you in both eyes, maybe you should stop sucking up to the King and get some sleep instead.”

  He hadn’t been sleeping, though it had nothing to do with spending too much time with the King. Jaeger had been plagued by nightmares his entire life. At times it seemed like they might stop, granting him a few months of restful sleep. They would inevitably return, his night hours plagued with living shadows who snatched him up, roughly dragging him from his bed beside a warm fire. No matter how hard he fought, his fight was a futile one, and the shadows would drag him into the icy darkness beyond his safe place. The dreams were always the same, and Jaeger had never been able to make sense of them.

  Jaeger assumed they were brought on by the recent stress of knowing he was soon going to watch Philip wed the Princess. However, he wasn’t going to admit anything of the sort to Dane.

  “It’s called training Dane, maybe you should try it and you might not keep getting thrown on shitty sentry duties,” Jaeger told him, thinking he did spend his sleepless hours training.

  Dane rolled his eyes. “Alright, I can see you’re feeling pissy tonight.”

  The Christmas spirit seemed to have infected the rest of the guardsmen though, as even Dane retreated back to the group to continue whatever conversation they’d been having. It was the only thing he could think of which would make them call off the hunt. Normally, if they scented weakness or a bad mood in him, they took the opportunity to worsen his mood. He was more than willing to allow them their conversation, so long as he wasn’t a target.

  The armor was, thankfully, lighter than he’d led Alistair to believe. Orders, either from the King himself, or Orrin most likely, had come from above and the ceremonial gear had been altered. Rather than heavy plate which would have concealed the guard completely, a series of lighter sheets of metal, adorned with the emerald green and golds, the royal family’s colors, had been selected. The sigil of the house, two huge wolves leaping away from a golden sun, adorned the center plate. Each piece of armor had been expertly made by a master craftsman, and each detail had been lovingly crafted over the course of several months. It wasn’t as unwieldly as the old ceremonial armor had been, but after enduring the layers and standing in the heated throne room, he’d still be covered in sweat.

  Still, knowing he was bound to stand in absolute misery, there was a sense of pride as he pulled on the armor. Despite many in the guard believing he had stayed in the personal guard simply because of nepotism, Jaeger had worked hard to live up to his position’s reputation. The new armor was a symbol of just how hard he’d worked, training every day, expanding his knowledge of arms, healing, and even tracking. There were few who had dedicated themselves to making sure they’d be prepared to protect and aid the royal family as he had.

  The pride stuck with him even as he marched down to the throne room. The halls were filled with various nobility, who had made sure to show up in their best and most expensive outfits. They parted at the soft whisper of hi
s metal armor, allowing him into the throne room.

  The long hall which served as the throne room was brightly lit, with every candle and hearth ablaze with flame. The banners of the house were draped from the walls, fresh and vibrant, having been made within the past fortnight. The crowd of nobles were kept to either side of the room, creating a space down the middle where visiting royalty could comfortably march the length of the plush carpet with room to spare for their individual retinues.

  There was another entrance to the throne room directly across from the one Jaeger stood at. As he watched, other members of the personal guard formed up, as the rest gathered around Jaeger. As one, the men entered the room, their armor reflecting the flames of the torches as they marched down the carpet to the steps which led to the throne.

  The King sat, bright eyed and smiling as he watched his personal guard file up to him, spreading out so that four stood in a line down the stairs on either side. Conjurer Orrin stood at the bottom of the stairs, closer than any other non-royal member of the court. His was a position of honor, but he was neither royal blood nor a member of the personal guard. He didn’t give the guard, even Jaeger, a single glance, and Jaeger preferred it that way. The less attention he drew from the sorcerer, the better.

  Jaeger was positioned at the top of the stairs on the King’s right side and could see Philip clearly. His heart ached as he took in the sight of his best friend, splendid in his flared jacket over the intricately designed doublet. The Prince’s blond hair had been artfully mussed, a single lock hung loosely over his brow. Jaeger couldn’t help but smile as he watched Philip’s eyes shift up toward his forehead, and Jaeger knew the lock of hair was irritating the Prince. Philip’s expression never wavered from its expected warmth, the blue of his formal attire brightening his eyes and making him look even more handsome than ever.