Galen [Beyond the Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Toby Aden

  “Finc. We did not expect you to show your face,” Darix said in his obnoxious manner, eyeing him as he walked over to his intended and slid his arms through the man’s.

  “Finc?” the soon-to-be king questioned, turning around to face him.

  In that moment, everything else in the world disappeared. Neither was aware of anything other than each other. Sound faded away, voices drifted farther away, time seemed to be frozen and shock registered on both their faces.

  They were both rooted to the spot where they stood, unable to move forward for the shock of the moment and the unexpected turn of things. Galen had not expected to meet his fated mate on the journey. In fact, he had been prepared to suffer through the political hoops the whole thing reeked of, but to meet his mate and that the man was beauty incarnate? That was on a whole new level of surprise.

  “My half-brother, Finc,” Darix said, oblivious to the tension between the two.

  Galen could not look away from his Finc. The man was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen in his life. He could feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest and blood rushing down to his shaft and the member thickening against his thigh. Finc. He rolled the name in his mind. A beautiful name to suit the gorgeous man.

  With his long golden-blond hair held back from his face and the tip of it peeping from around the corner of his ass, Finc took his breath away. Those expressive green-upon-green eyes showed him that his mate was not unaffected by him in the least. The man was shorter than he, no more than five feet eight, but he could see from the slim, fit figure and the way the man held himself together that he really took good care of his body.

  “Your Highness.”

  Hungrily, Galen devoured the image of the man who had snagged his attention from the get-go, burning the image into his retina. He saw Finc bite into his bottom lips, and his gaze followed every movement, tracing the movement of the pink tongue that slipped out to lick dried lips. He allowed his gaze to trace down his pale neck, wishing it was his mouth that followed the beating pulse thumping wildly just at the man’s throat.

  “Your Highness.”

  He traced his gaze down the man’s body until he reached the man’s hands, which spanned and lifted as though to reach for him before folding into a fist and falling back to Finc’s side. Galen lifted his gaze back up until it was ensnarled once more by a green liquid pool of desire and want and need.

  As though they had not heard any word being said to get their attention, they gravitated toward each other, and Finc’s lips parted in surprise and Galen’s in awe, a blinding smile crossing over his lips.

  “Mate,” Galen said simply, short and succinct.

  Chapter Four

  “What!?” Darix screeched, tearing himself away from his intended and glaring daggers at his half brother.

  Still, neither of the men minded him one bit. He moved forward so that he was in his mate’s personal space. “Finc,” he breathed, the word sounding holy, still peering at his mate with awe glistening in his eyes.

  Finc nodded, taking a step closer to the man as though being pulled by invisible strings.

  “Call me Galen.”

  “Your Highness!”

  “Galen,” Finc whispered and was taken by surprise when Galen slid a hand around his waist and pulled him into him, causing him to stumble and hold onto Galen’s arm for support as he stared up into the gorgeous face of his mate.

  They stood pressed against each other, touching from head to toe, with Finc staring up at the man in a daze, lips parted.

  Unable to stop himself, Galen leaned down into his mate, his eyes never leaving the other man’s until their lips touched, and a sigh escaped from the both of them. A zap of current shot through them, and the feeling of rightness and of coming home settled down into place between them. They neither cared for the outrageous shrieks and gasps coming from those around them nor heard them. Their only source of approval was Jory, who stood beaming at the couple who held the attention of everyone in the room.

  The kiss was soft, just a press of lips together, nothing else as they stared deeply at each other until the urge for more overwhelmed them. They had no idea what happened next. Just that when Galen moved to really kiss Finc properly, they were viciously torn apart with Darix’s red face in front of them and the man taking out his anger at his mate, screaming at Finc.

  Finc placed a hand on his lips, his face burning up and embarrassment clear in his eyes as he stared at Galen and Darix in shock.

  “You low-down son of a whore. It wasn’t enough that you had to be foisted on us as a child, but now you want to take my mate from me?” Darix screeched before raising his hand and striking Finc across the cheek.

  Finc stood mute and unable to utter a word, his hand slowly moving to his rapidly bruising face. He saw Darix lift a hand to strike him again, but when the hit didn’t come, he glanced up to see why and was surprised to see that Galen had caught Darix’s hand in midair. His gaze slowly flirted across the room and noticed the disapproving looks and sneers directed his way.

  Unwilling to see the same look in his mate’s eyes and unable to stand the scorn and embarrassment any longer, he turned on his heels and fled the room, ignoring the call for his name. All he wanted was to get out of there, and he didn’t once glance back or even give his friend a second thought as he fled the room, the compound, and further out of the vicinity of the place he had called a house ever since he was but ten.

  Galen was about to go after his mate but was stopped by Bojore sliding in front of him, his face red with anger as he tried to keep from saying something overtly rude.

  “Your Highness. What is the meaning of this?” Bojore asked, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “I am sorry. I do not have time to explain myself just yet. I must attend my mate first,” Galen said and tried to sidestep Bojore, only to be stopped by his wife, Urla.

  “This is unacceptable, Your Highness. You were promised to our son Darix. You cannot do this,” the woman said.

  “I was promised to a son of yours, and as I understand, Finc is your son, is he not?” Galen asked, one brow raised.

  Urla sputtered about but could not say a word.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Galen said and then sidestepped the protesting people and went after his mate, striding as fast as he could without actually running after the man.

  Galen strode faster out of the room until he’d left the celebration and his sputtering, enraged hosts behind. Right now, he did not have time to think of the ramifications of his actions. He only hoped his personal aide would sort things out until he was able to deal with it himself.

  Once he was out of view of everyone else, he broke into a jog, glancing all around him as he searched for his elusive mate. He came upon the man who had walked in with his mate and hurried over to him.

  “Have you seen Finc?” he asked.

  The man stared at him silently as though gauging if he should respond before pointing him in the direction to go, and with a nod of thanks, he continued on his way in the new direction he was sure to find his mate at. He took the path, leaving the compound behind.

  Galen weaved his way through the field until he spied his mate crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees and staring obliviously into the distance and the setting sun. Galen approached the man carefully so as not to spook him, walking around until he stood in front of Finc. He stood there for a while, yet Finc did not acknowledge his presence even though he could tell from the change in breathing that the man knew he was there.

  He knelt down in front of his mate and lifted a hand, hesitating before brushing it over Finc’s head. When the man didn’t flinch away from him, Galen ran his hand over Finc’s head, pulling the man into his arms and running a soothing hand up and down his back.

  “It’s okay. I will not let anyone hurt you,” Galen said, trying to reassure his mate. “Calm yourself, mate. You’re mine, and no one will dare to harm you.”

  Galen held onto his ma
te until he could feel the shudders racking through the lithe body recede slightly. He could tell that the shock of having his half brother strike him was still with the man and could see the deepening bruise on Finc’s cheek. Red-hot anger burned through him at the sight of the bruise, and he wanted to go back and demand satisfaction of the impudent twit who had done this to his mate. However, he also did not want to leave Finc alone until he felt the man was marginally better.

  He felt more than he saw Fin wind his arms around his waist and hold on to him tightly, burrowing his face into his throat. He felt Fin rub his nose against his throat, inhaling his scent before nuzzling in further as though to draw in all the warm and love he needed. As though he was starved for physical contact and needed it so badly to calm him down entirely.

  Since his arrival at Bojore’s family home, no one had mentioned a word about a half-brother or even an illegitimate son until the young man had shown his presence at the feast. Shouldn’t the entire family have been present to greet him or excuses made when one was absent? But from the reaction of the entire family, it was clear to him that they had not treated Finc any better than providing a roof over his head.

  And to learn that Bojore had another son? Galen shook his head, dumbfounded. It would not require a genius to notice that the only reason for keeping the boy’s existence from public knowledge or even acknowledging him was that he was an illegitimate son. Perhaps even a son born from an illicit affair or liaison with another not deemed marriageable into such elite status. No matter, as long as the boy did claim parentage from Bojore, it reduced the political implications and objections that would come their way.

  Come high or hell water, Galen would not bind with another, especially when he had finally met his true mate given to him by the gods.

  “Shh, shh, my mate. All will be well. I am most pleased to have finally met you. That the gods saw fit to gift you to me is a miracle all on its own. You have nothing to fear from now on,” Galen said, muttering sweet nothings in his mate’s ears until the man had calmed down.

  They crouched there together with Finc pressed up against Galen’s body until Galen began to feel the strain of squatting for a long time. Gently so as not to send the wrong impression, he wrapped his hands around Finc’s waist and then stood up, lifting the smaller man into his arms in the process. He embraced Finc tightly, holding on for a while before gradually allowing the man to slide down his body, setting him down on his feet.

  “Do you want to get back to the house or go somewhere else?” Galen asked.

  Finc was quiet for such a long time that Galen almost thought his mate had not heard his words. When he was about to repeat his words, Finc drew his head away from Galen’s chest and stared up at him.

  “I am tired,” Finc said simply, staring into the gray of his mate’s eyes and worrying his bottom lips.

  Galen reached out with a finger and brushed it against the wet moist lips until Finc stopped worrying it with his teeth. He traced the man’s lips with his fingers, staring intently at the mouth he had kissed earlier and wanting more of it.

  “I want to kiss you,” Galen said, his voice husky with desire.

  Finc parted his lips, desire flooding through his system as he stared at the blatant look of lust visible in his mate’s gaze. He had never had someone look at him that way before. With such intense emotion visible and for him, and to have it aimed at him by no one other than the future king himself, he was overwhelmed. “You do?” Finc asked, confusion and lust warring within him.

  Galen responded by nodding and then frowning. “Please tell me you have reached your maturity age.”

  “Five days ago, Your Highness,” Finc said distractedly as he stared, fixated, at Galen’s lips.

  “Galen. Call me Galen,” Galen said, pleased that with Finc having reached his hundredth year, he was free to claim the man and bond with him without fear of any repercussion.

  Finc shook his head. “I would not dare.”

  Galen leaned into his mate, breathing against the man’s ears, blowing on it and sucking the lobe into his mouth. “Let me hear you say it, Finc. Galen.”

  Finc moaned, and Galen knew he had found one of his mate’s pleasure spots. He could not wait to lay the man out before him like a feast and learn every inch of the man’s body. To know where his mate was sensitive and which parts would make him lose control. To dine upon the well-aged wine and delicacy that the gods had seen fit to gift him with and to hear the man moan and scream and cry out his name in ecstasy.

  “Galen.”

  A shudder ran through Galen’s body, and his cock became so painfully erect that it felt as though it would burst out of his clothes any moment. Just hearing Finc call out his name sent him into a tailspin, imagining how it would feel to have the man cry out his name over and over again as he sank into him and loved him so thoroughly he’d have no doubt as to whom he belonged.

  The thoughts running through his mind about all he wanted to do to his mate forced him to release the ear lobe and moan into Finc’s neck, nuzzling that area as he tried to calm himself down.

  How he wished that he could ignore protocol and the laws of bonding and lay his mate out here and feast upon him. To sink his hardened shaft into the man’s tight ass and pound him into the ground until they were both lost to their passion and pleasure. He opened his eyes and peered up at his mate from where he nuzzled the slim, long, pale neck, taking in the flushed skin and closed eyes of his mate.

  He wanted to do so many bad things to his mate, and if he didn’t stop soon, he did not know just how long he could hold out for without losing his head and his inhibitions.

  “Again,” he could not help himself from demanding, eyes open as he waited for see the words form on those succulent lips he wanted to bury himself into.

  “Galen!”

  A shudder ran through Galen’s body once more, and he had to close his eyes to relish the sight of Finc calling out his name. He latched onto the skin of Finc’s neck and began sucking, using it as a deviatory tactic for his mounting libido. He just knew that should he give in and kiss Finc, consequences be damned, but he would not be able to stop at only a kiss.

  He could not do that to Finc though. Could not damn their mating even before it started. Already, they had so many hurdles they would need to overcome and cross just to be able to mate. Going further than a simple kiss would ensure that they were forever doomed. However, he could not not do anything either. He would have to satisfy himself with leaving his mark on his mate so that should he or Finc see it once more, it would remind them both of this very moment.

  With that thought in mind, Galen sucked harder on Finc’s throat, relishing the bite and dig of Finc’s nails into his arm and the way the man tilted his head for his access, moaning and crying out. Galen had never known another as responsive as his mate, for the man was soon panting, Finc’s labored breath harsh against his ears and his legs growing too weak to support his weight.

  When Finc would have crumbled into a heap at Galen’s feet from the waves upon delicious waves of pleasure rolling through him, Galen swept a hand around his waist and pulled him into his body, holding him tight against his muscular and built form. Their straining cocks rubbed against each other, but Galen shifted his hips back, not willing to go further than the point of no return.

  “Smell so good. So delicious, Finc,” Galen praised and then gave Finc’s throat one last lick before leaning away from the man to examine his handiwork.

  The love bite plainly visible to him on that pale, pale neck sent blood rushing down to his already aching cock, and Galen groaned, pleasure and pride filling up in his chest at the beauty that was his mate. Galen could not resist giving the love bite one last lick any more than he could resist leaning in and pressing a kiss to the corner of Finc’s lips.

  It took everything that was in him to pull away from his mate and hold him at arm’s length so that the only contact they maintained was Galen’s hand on Finc’s biceps. He waited until
Finc peeled back his lids and opened his eyes before flashing the man a devastating smile.

  Swallowing several times, he forced the smile to remain on his face before saying, “Let’s head back to the house.”

  Galen saw the confusion on Finc’s face, but one of them had to be the sensible one, the responsible one, and it looked like that role had fallen to him. His too-innocent mate had not known what had hit him when he had encountered Galen, but Galen did not intend to have anything stop him from rightfully claiming this man before him. He let go of his mate and then pulled the collar of Finc’s shirt up so that the love bite he had left there would not be too visible to anyone else.

  “Are you all right?” Galen asked.

  Finc licked his lips and then nodded. “Yes, Galen.”

  A smile curved his lips as he peered down at his mate, and Galen found that even though he liked everyone knowing that Finc belonged to him, he did not want anyone to see the mark he’d left on his mate. It was something private between the two of them, and that was how he wanted it to remain. When he was sure that Finc was presentable enough to return back, Galen wrapped his arms around Finc’s waist and led his mate back to the house and to comfort. They walked together in silence, not bothering to talk, only reflecting on the events of the evening.

  “Your Highness. We must talk,” Bojore said, rushing toward them the moment he spied them advancing toward the compound. His face was still visibly flushed with anger and worry, though Galen had an inkling it wasn’t for his other son Finc’s sake.

  “Can you find your way back to your quarters, Finc?” Galen asked, allowing his mate’s name to roll off his tongue once more. For some reason, he enjoyed calling his mate’s name, feeling a measure of contentment settle into him as he did so.

  “Of course he can, Your Highness,” Bojore replied offhandedly.

  Turning to glare at the portly man, Galen raised a brow arrogantly, staring down at the man before him. “I do not remember questioning you, Lord Bojore.”