“Give me a minute to think about this. Shifters don’t just up and feed vampires.”
“Not usually, no.”
Never. Usually, that is. Though to be fair, Sasha’s sister, Princess Nadia, probably fed from her Chosen of Baast, Alpha Orin Green, so it’s not like it was never done. Of course, he was her mate. Still, Trace was torn between fear, revulsion, and longing. He’d been fascinated with and lusting after Sasha since they first met—the mating pull making it worse—but Trace was certain he would have wanted Sasha even without that. Over the years since they’d met, Trace had come to respect and wish for things to be different the more he watched Sasha interact with Jason, Zeke, Sean, and more. But to allow another male any power over him, sexually especially, was something he had refused since the night of his rescue from his now-dead mate’s home. To agree to feed Sasha like this would go against that. However, to not would potentially kill Sasha, if what Jalin said was true. It would also endanger all the vampires in Sasha’s coven. And the bond between the coven and the tribe.
Goddess Baast, if you sent him to me, why now when I’m too damaged to accept the gift? What do I do?
The one thing he knew for certain was he couldn’t risk Sasha, even if it meant giving up part of himself. Sasha deserved his care, even if Trace could never give him more.
“This won’t give him control over me or force me to give him the mating bite, right?”
“No, it won’t. He wouldn’t do that to anyone, much less to you,” Jalin snapped. “Prince Sasha is a good and decent vampire who would never force his heart to be with him, no matter what it cost him to allow that freedom. Now will you help him or not?”
“I will, but I’d rather go in my lynx skin. I’m stronger that way, and not all of you vamps are thrilled to have me ‘lurking’ about the covenstead.”
“Then please shift, and I’ll drive us back. I will wait outside to give you your privacy.”
“Thank you.”
Trace watched Jalin exit his little cottage of a home before he stripped and shifted. He loved the roll of power as it poured over his body, shifting and rearranging him until he settled into his other skin and his lynx self came forward.
After a moment or two to stretch and twist his new body, Trace padded silently through the cat door, only stopping when he reached Jalin. He nudged Jalin’s leg with his head, then continued to the car, annoyed when the vampire didn’t immediately open the door. Paws were great, he loved his paws, but they weren’t the best for opening vehicle doors and such. After letting out a loud hiss, he pawed at the door, careful not to scratch it, then glared at Jalin.
“Sorry. Let me get that for you.” Jalin slipped his cell phone into his pocket before he pulled open the car door for Trace. “I was letting Dr. Niko know that you said yes and that you were returning with me now.”
Yeah, whatever. Trace didn’t overly care who Jalin was playing with the plastic to talk to; he just wanted to get back to Sasha. Now that he was in his lynx skin, the drive to be with Sasha was stronger—as it always was—and his arguments against being with Sasha became even fuzzier and harder to maintain. Even as Trace tried to keep a tight hold on his lynx side.
SASHA DREADED the next day but knew he needed to help his people keep calm with the coming storm. A few had seen Trace brought in the other night, and many more knew about the impending visit of his uncle. Gods, but he didn’t want to deal with his mother’s brother.
“Will you be taking the princess as your wife?” Liz asked as she stared up at him. She was a tiny little thing, even to Sasha, which was saying something. She was maybe four six, with big gray eyes and hair that always stood up a bit—personally he’d always thought she looked like she belonged in one of those manga he’d seen.
He’d finished speaking with a large group of his people in the ballroom, but he still had to soothe a few of the higher-ranking ones. Sadly, he hadn’t caught up with all of them yet. He took a slow breath, trying not to make it look like a sigh, as it wasn’t, really—he was just tired, though he ought not be and couldn’t let on to anyone he wasn’t at top power and form.
“You know better than that, Liz. I know you heard me announce that I found my fated heart and that he was under my protection. The fact I forbade you to discuss certain points about him to my uncle or Tatiana is completely beside the point.”
“My prince, I understand that you found your heart. I’m happy for you, even if I don’t understand what the Gods were thinking giving you one of the two-skinned kind, but you still need an heir. You know that, my prince, as well as I do. That’s probably at the root of what your uncle is up to, and until you have at least two children, he will have the leverage to continue this harassment.”
“He has no rights as far as this coven goes, and you know it.”
“Rights? No. But he will be seen to be only looking out for you and yours as long as you continue not to have heirs so that your family rule is secure. You are the last Tolstoi in this coven, and while I have no love lost for your uncle”—he tended to treat females as though they were less, for the mere fact of their gender—a rather old-fashioned human trait, unfortunately, that had infected many of his generation—“I have to agree that it would be a tragedy to not only lose you, but your line as well.”
This time the sigh did escape, not that he’d tried hard to stop it. “Now you sound like Jalin.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted to be compared to your valet or pleased at being placed in the same category as one that you obviously listen to and value. Either way I would listen to him in this instance. Your fated heart cannot give you heirs, so you still need a consort, my prince. You still need blood children.”
“I cannot lie with some female, and you know it.” Liz had been a friend since childhood, even though she shifted to more of an adviser of sorts once he ascended to the crown, as it were. Even so, every born vampire knew what a fated heart meant. And what was and was not possible.
She smirked and folded her arms over her ample chest on her small frame. “I’ll buy you a turkey baster if you can’t figure out how surrogacy works.”
“Eww….”
“Oh please”—she flitted her hands to her hips, somehow making her seem taller all of a sudden—“your best friend, the human, Jason, used his husband’s sister as a surrogate so he and his alpha mate could have a child. I don’t see why the idea is so hard for you to grasp. Sir.”
“It’s not,” Sasha grumbled. “It’s the idea of anyone but Trace near any part of me—yes, even with medical intervention.” He shook his head and mumbled, “Can’t believe you suggested a turkey baster. Really?”
She shrugged. “It got your attention, which was the point. You seriously need to give this consideration. Even without your uncle or the attack on your heart, you need to consider having children. You would make a wonderful father, and there are a few in training who would make excellent nannies and valets.”
Yeah, he knew he needed children—he simply didn’t want them to be heirs instead of family. Trace didn’t want to build a family with him, though, and wasn’t likely to change his mind about that anytime soon. “I will consider it, but not with someone my uncle controls.”
“No, that makes sense.”
“Good. Make sure the others understand that as well. The females in the coven gave up ages ago on trying to seduce me into bonding with them, but every time children are brought up….”
“It starts all over again. I know. I will see what I can do to curb that. I am sorry they see your status as prince over who you are when it comes to such things.”
“Such is the position.” Sasha had opened his mouth to continue when he felt Trace enter the grounds. What is he doing back? The pain and panic of Trace being hurt wasn’t present, so that wasn’t it. There was no scheduled meeting, so no…. Trace had made it abundantly clear he didn’t wish to be near Sasha or at the covenstead, so why would he be on the grounds now?
“What’s wrong, S
asha?”
Liz’s use of his preferred nickname startled him enough to bring his mind back to the here and now. “You know, it’s been years since you’ve addressed me so informally.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. I told you when you took your position on my council not to buy in to the hype, that you could still call me Sasha.”
She huffed but smiled. “What startled you?”
“Trace is back.”
“Oh.” She bounced on her toes, her smile growing. “Then hurry back to your section of the house, and I’ll do my best to head off anyone who thinks they need you right now.”
“I—”
“You’re not really going to argue that you want to stay out here with us when your heart has returned, are you?” How could such a tiny little thing manage such an imperious arch to her brow and her voice all at the same time? And at her prince, no less!
The fact she was right was the only reason he didn’t stay to tease her. “Point. So be a good goose and defend me as I go find out what’s brought him back so soon.” Sasha quickly hugged Liz, chuckling at her startled squeak before he turned and hurried back to his suite. He was confident he would beat Trace there, but he could also feel that was where Trace was headed. Sasha did pause a moment just as he entered his private area when he realized he scented Trace’s lynx, not his human.
He had to fight down the panic that something had gone wrong and Trace was once again trapped in his fur. No, Trace is fine. He’s in his fur by choice. He repeated it a couple of times, hoping he was right, before the door opened and Jalin stepped inside.
“Sir?” Jalin said, his eyes wide as he jumped slightly.
Sasha stood in front of his favorite chair, his hands curled, though he’d managed to stop them from becoming full fists. “Where’s Trace?”
He looked at the floor around Jalin’s feet but didn’t see Trace, though he could feel and smell him. He could even hear his heartbeat—fast, but not more so than normal for his lynx side.
“He wanted me to announce him, oddly enough, before he came in.”
“I know he’s here. I knew he was close before he fully entered the grounds.” Why the hell do I need my fated heart announced to me?
“I’m simply doing as he asked. You ordered me to obey him as I would you unless it would endanger him, the coven, or you, or directly counter you. This is his wish.”
Sasha sighed but nodded for Jalin to continue. He just wanted to see Trace!
“Trace is here and will explain the conditions of what he’s here for himself. Please listen to him, sir,” Jalin added, his voice cracking oddly at the end. Sasha had never heard Jalin sound so imploring or afraid, ever.
“What’s going on?” Sasha approached Jalin, his hand out. He kept his movements slow, genuinely worried for the first time ever for his servant/assistant. “Why are you afraid?”
“You’ll understand once you talk to Trace. Just please, listen to him.”
“I always listen to him.” Even when it guts me to do so.
“Then do what he says.”
He was certain his face showed how shocked he felt, but Sasha couldn’t remember a time Jalin had ever suggested Sasha blindly follow anyone’s word, especially not a nonvampire. Of course, it wasn’t blindly…. Jalin knew what was going on.
“I don’t appreciate you two managing me. I assume that’s what you’re attempting to do.” Sasha took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “How on earth did you get him to even come here?”
“He’ll explain why he’s here, sir. I was just to tell you he’s here in his lynx form and that he has conditions and rules that you have to follow. I don’t know what they are, but I implore you to hear him out.”
Dumbfounded, Sasha dropped his stance and gaped at Jalin. “You what? You do?”
“Yes, sir. Dimka and Summer are already clearing the area near your chambers and will guard once that’s complete. I am, as always, on call and at your service, sir. On your word, I will send in your consort and heart.”
Unsure what to make of any of what Jalin said, Sasha nodded. “All right. Send him in, and I promise to listen to everything he has to say.”
“Thank you.”
Exhausted—he was beyond tired all the time as it was—he decided to sit back down while Jalin went to bring Trace to him. He was thrilled Trace was back, though all the weirdness of Jalin prefacing the visit worried Sasha. Why all the qualifiers? What was Trace there for? And why show up in his fur instead of in his human skin?
A few moments later, Sasha fought down the urge to giggle—a sound his father always thought he should have grown out of. It wasn’t manly! Of course, in the more current age, at least the way he tended to act wasn’t seen as so odd. Thank the Gods for humans and how their cultures changed and bled into others. Still, the sight of Trace’s lynx, with his head held high, stalking into Sasha’s morning room, dragging a light silk robe behind him—he held the edge in his teeth—was beyond adorable. Not that he’d use that word, probably.
“Trace? Mal’chik?”
Trace stopped and dropped the robe, then stepped away from it. Sasha watched as Trace shifted to his human self. Damn, but he would never not be impressed by that. He’d seen shifters over his life change, but those in Keith’s tribe were faster and stronger than others, Trace even more so than the average of the tribe.
Once he was human again, Trace bent down and retrieved the robe, then slipped it on before he finally looked up and tentatively met Sasha’s gaze.
Damn, but the male was beautiful! Sasha also noted that he felt a little better now that Trace was near. No more energy, unfortunately, but he felt as though he could breathe a little better and that his muscles weren’t quite as tight. Huh.
Sasha fought the urge to reach out and yank Trace into his arms, knowing that wouldn’t be appreciated or tolerated, no matter how much Sasha needed to touch, hold, taste…. “Trace?”
Chapter Eleven
TRACE PADDED into the room, again taking in how luxurious while still homey it seemed. He tried not to focus too hard on Sasha, though that was as futile an effort as ever. He was immediately drawn to the inky-black hair and the pale blue eyes that almost didn’t seem to match. Once he was caught in their gaze, he was always reminded of wickedness, power, ice, and warmth all at the same time. The mystique of a vampire prince, yet there was so much more to Sasha…. If only….
“Sasha,” he said, his voice softer than he wanted it to be but as loud as he could make it right then.
“I’m always happy to see you, you know that, but why are you here? Is something wrong?” Sasha clutched the arms of the overstuffed leather chair he sat in, as if he were trying to hold himself in place—of course he might be. Trace knew how handsy Sasha tended to be, so the space Trace put between them had to be difficult for Sasha to deal with on a good day. He thought about how it had been before he left the previous morning and figured it was even more so now that he’d allowed Sasha to touch and pet him so much while he was recovering. The fact Trace hadn’t been able to handle anyone but Sasha’s touch hadn’t missed his notice—he just didn’t know how to process it yet.
“Yes, but not with me. Jalin came to see me and convinced me to come back and speak with Dr. Niko. Together we discussed your health issues that have to do with me.”
“What!” Sasha roared and jumped out of his seat. “How dare they go behind my back.”
Trace cowered, dropping into a low crouch, covering his head. He hated showing such weakness but couldn’t help it. A mewl slipped out before he could stop it.
A moment later he felt Sasha’s presence close, but the anger seemed to be gone. Still, he couldn’t uncoil or look up.
“Trace, hon, shhh….” Sasha touched Trace’s elbow so gently he wasn’t sure it was real at first. After a moment it turned into a light caress up and down that arm. “You have no need to fear me. I could never hurt you. Shhh….”
It took him a f
ew moments, but Trace did manage to unwind and finally meet Sasha’s gaze. “S-sorry.”
“No, I should never have reacted that way near you. I know better. I’m not happy that you three went behind my back, but I would never attack you. You are under my protection, Trace. That includes from me as well. I will never touch you in any way that you do not wish.” Sasha smoothed Trace’s hair, then cupped his cheek. “Please come and get comfortable, mal—” Sasha took a deep breath and closed his eyes before opening them and giving a slight smile. “Please have a seat and tell me what it is you three think I need,” he said in a soft voice, most of the command missing for once.
Sasha stepped back, giving Trace space, something the few who had seen Trace panic like this never seemed to understand he needed. He stood and took a moment to dust off the robe and retie it, not that it actually needed it, but Trace did. “Thank you. I’ll… take you up on that offer of a seat, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Sasha returned to his chair, and while his gaze never left Trace—he could feel it like a touch, he was certain—Sasha made no other moves toward Trace. Trace took the seat closest. If he were honest, which he had no intention of being right then, he missed sitting on the cushy rug next to Sasha while Sasha played with his hair as they talked. But Trace wasn’t like that anymore. He didn’t need anyone or bend to anyone except his alpha and the council, and that was a tribal thing, not a sexual one.
“Trace? Unlike the popular fiction of this time, I can’t read your mind. I need you to tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“You’re weakening, and even when you feed, it’s not nourishing you as it ought.”
The sigh that came out of Sasha could have started a tornado, Trace was certain. He flopped back in his seat, the motion reminding Trace more of the young male Sasha appeared to be when he was around Jason or out around other humans than the powerful prince he truly was. “Jalin, the doctor, and I will have words later. They were not supposed to drag you in to my little health issue. And it’s not as bad as Jalin thinks it is.”
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