Fangs with a Heart

by Tempeste O'Riley

  “Should I call you mal’chik or Trace like this, huh? I know you like mal’chik as your human side, even though you don’t exactly admit it. But since you’re a handsome lynx, I guess boy isn’t exactly right now. Oh well, guess I’ll just have to stick to Trace and hon for your furry side.” As he rambled Sasha slowly stretched out one arm, reaching until he could almost touch Trace. He stopped about half a foot shy and waited, hand hovering. “I brought you food, but it’s all prepared how you like it when you’re in your human skin. I can have the kitchen send something for you in your lynx form, or you could shift. Whichever you’d like, but hon, you can’t eat up here. And I promise we don’t have any mice loose in the mansion, so staying up here will be a boring and hunger-inducing problem.”

  Trace stretched his neck out and nudged Sasha’s hand with his nose.

  “I’d really rather you came down and just ate with me, though, either as human or lynx, I don’t care. But we need to decide what you want to do for the night and tomorrow, hon. My uncle and Tatiana are coming, and I’m pretty sure that if you choose to meet them, you’ll want to do so as your human self.”

  Trace wiggled forward until his head was completely under Sasha’s hand. He then bumped his head up into Sasha’s hand a couple of times, giving a light mewl.

  Sasha scratched behind Trace’s ears before he began smoothing his hand down Trace’s head and shoulders repeatedly.

  “My uncle will still likely refer to you as my pet, for which I do apologize, but Tatiana—” This time when Sasha said her name, Trace raised his head and hissed before lowering it to rest on his paws. The imperious glare he gave Sasha made him chuckle. “—Tatiana,” he emphasized and got another hiss for his trouble, “—will be interested in you on a more personal level. She’s not like my uncle.”

  That got Trace’s attention. Finally. He raised his head, tilting it to one side as he gave off a series of mewls, clicks, hisses, and soft yowls Sasha had no clue how to interpret. They didn’t sound exactly angry, nor did they hold the panic that sent Trace up there in the first place. Still…. “I have no idea what you’re saying or asking. Shift and use people words, please.”

  Without proper warning Trace lunged at Sasha, catching him off guard. Sasha threw up his arms, wrapping them around Trace, holding him tight as he lowered them to the ground before letting him go. “Dammit! Don’t do that! What if I hadn’t managed to catch you and you’d fallen?”

  Trace shifted to his human self and stood, stretching his long limbs as he turned to face Sasha. “No farther up than we were? Ha! I would have landed on my paws and been fine. Um….” Trace stopped and stared, wide-eyed. “How were you up there?” He looked around at Sasha’s feet. “There’s no ladder.”

  “Of course not. Why would I need one?”

  “Because you’re only five and a half feet tall,” Trace replied, deadpan, his brows drawn so tight together he almost had a unibrow.

  “Same way I move any object I want, except in this case, I moved me.” Why was he asking stupid questions when he ought to be worrying about the fact he could have gotten himself seriously hurt! “Telekinesis.”

  “That doesn’t explain you being up in the air.”

  “I can move me too, as I said.”

  “So you can fly? Like in the movies? Vampires fly?”

  “No, I can only go up and then back down, left and right is very limited, and distance is pretty much out. Why?”

  “So levitation, then.”

  “Ugh! I suppose. I just know that I chose to move me and it worked. I choose to move the door—” The closet door closed with a soft thush. “—and it moves. Few vampires can do it, though some princes and princesses I know can.” Sasha wondered if he should point out Trace was standing there naked with his hands on his perfect narrow hips.

  “That’s… impressive as hell, Sasha, yet you look bored as you explain it.”

  “Sorry, but it’s something I’ve been able to do since I was little. Got me in a ton of trouble when I was a boy, actually.”

  “But—”

  “Hon, shifting isn’t something that overly impresses you, is it? I mean, it’s normal to you. It just is. Well, to me this is one of those things that just is. Your shifting is impressive, not my ability to move up to find you.” Sasha paused, unsure if he really wanted to draw attention to the issue that drove Trace up there in the first place, but needing to at the same time. “But would you mind telling me what happened to you? I mean, I thought you were going to take a short nap while I arranged a snack for you, but when I returned, you were gone.”

  Trace dropped his gaze to his feet, at which point he seemed to realize he was without clothes, finally, and turned bright red from midchest to his hairline. He spun around, presenting Sasha with his backside—which was just as mouthwatering as his front—and squeaked, “Robe? Please.”

  “Of course, mal’chik.”

  With a chuckle Sasha stepped away to retrieve one of the soft robes in the armoire in the main bedchamber, left from when Trace stayed as he’d recovered. His clothing would begin to arrive in the morning, but he had a few things there already, mainly robes and the like. Nothing fit for Trace to work in, not yet, at least, or for him to attend to his consort duties. That thought almost made Sasha cringe, but he shook off the thought and returned to Trace. He draped the robe over Trace’s shoulders and turned to give him some privacy. They’d had sex—oral, but it still counted!—but Trace was more than a bit off and embarrassed right then, so Sasha didn’t want to push any more than necessary.

  “Thank you,” Trace said softly. He brushed Sasha’s arm briefly with one hand, there and gone.

  Sasha turned and smiled. “Of course. Now would you like that snack? We have things to discuss, and you’re awaiting a call from your alpha.”

  “I… am?”

  “Yes. Dimka took the doctor out to meet with your council doc already. She decided she needed the big bad alpha to be there instead of you. Something about protection,” Sasha added with a negligent wave. “It’s asinine, but she’s so prejudiced she can’t seem to see the damage she ought to be causing. The fact I could care less about her stupidity is her only saving grace. I can’t think of another prince that would allow such disrespect. Honestly if she had done this in front of any but Jalin, Summer, and Dimka, I would have to address her behavior directly, not merely leave it to your alpha.”

  “I know, and I appreciate your patience. I will make a full report to the council about her actions and about your leniency, citing how you tolerated her because you are more interested in what’s best for your godson than in punishing her. I will, however, stress that your patience is growing thin. The council will act to help rein her in, as they want this alliance to work.”

  “Don’t they realize that Jason is my best friend, Sean is my godson, and you are my fated heart? There isn’t a doubt that it will ‘work out.’”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “UM… THEY don’t know about that part,” Trace mumbled as he looked away, unwilling and unable to meet Sasha’s gaze.

  Sasha nodded as if he knew that already, though he had to. There was no reason for him to believe otherwise, was there? Sure, Trace could have spoken with Duncan, and unless he had sworn Duncan to secrecy, he would have told the others on the council about the current mating issue, but he hadn’t. Trace hadn’t really even managed to talk to his alpha, which he should have done first thing—especially considering the relationship between Sasha and Jason. Still….

  “Trace?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re off in your head again, and your breathing is picking up in a way I’m not sure is healthy for you. Think you can share with me? Maybe while you eat.”

  Did he want to? Not really, but things weren’t going to go how he wanted, obviously. “Maybe.” At Sasha’s raised eyebrow, he added, “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, but this isn’t easy for me to discuss, and being alone with you adds to that.”

  “W
ould you feel safer if we asked someone to sit in with us? I’m not sure who you’d find to be appropriate company here since everyone here is loyal to me, but we can put this discussion on hold until we send for someone from your tribe, if that would be better.”

  That only made him feel worse. The only person he truly felt safe with, stupidly, was Sasha. That was the issue—Sasha had left and what they’d done had crashed in on him. The possible ramifications and his past and… and… and….

  “That won’t help, and I don’t want more people knowing about my messed-up past than already do. Alpha Keith and Jason already have enough to deal with anyway.”

  “Okay, then come eat and talk. I promise to listen to anything you have to say, and nothing you tell me will change things for me. For us.”

  “We’ll see,” he muttered but followed along until he was back in the sitting room, where they found Jalin standing just inside the dining nook. A rolling tray stand sat beside the table and held covered dishes and two large thermoses. “Please tell me that’s coffee.”

  “Actually there’s cinnamon vanilla chai in one and hazelnut praline coffee in the other. I have cream, honey, and raw sugar as well.”

  “Bless you.” Trace made a beeline for the coffee and poured some, to which he added a large dose of cream and a little sugar. Once he stirred his coffee, he took a tentative sip, then sighed happily.

  “I take it it’s to your liking?” Sasha asked through soft laughter.

  “It is,” Trace replied primly. “Good coffee is nothing to laugh about. I have a Keurig and one of the K-cup trees with various coffees and teas on it in my home and in my office so that both are available at any given time.”

  Jalin pointed to the bar set up in the corner. “I had one added already, though the K-cup holder is under the counter. Would you like your food now, or should I take it back to the kitchen and return later?”

  “No, now is fine.”

  “We’re going to talk for a bit, Jalin, so please let Summer know that our area is off-limits to any but the three of you without my express permission. Not even the maids. Am I understood?”

  “Of course, sir.” Jalin set various small dishes around the place setting where Trace had chosen to sit. He wasn’t used to being served, except when he went out to dinner, but he also knew this was part of what Jalin did, and to not allow the male to do his job would be a great insult—to both him and Sasha. When he was done, Trace thanked him, even managing to give Jalin a small smile.

  “You’re welcome, sir. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.” Jalin then turned and faced Sasha.

  “You may go. Just remember what I said earlier. Oh, and while things need to be ready for tomorrow, don’t make my uncle too comfortable. He won’t be staying long.”

  “I have them both in the royal wing but as far from you as possible. Though the princess is closer, as she’s much less likely to wear on your nerves.”

  Trace ground his teeth, trying not to react like the jealous asshat he felt like. How could he be upset about her coming here when he’d refused to mate Sasha for over five years? And Sasha had already said he wasn’t taking her as his bride. But what if he changed his mind? What if—

  “Mal’chik, calm down” came Sasha’s soothing voice, breaking through the fog of anger and confusion. “Tatiana is no threat to you or to your place here. Shh….” He trailed his fingers up and down Trace’s arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

  “Sorry. Not my business.” Gods, was that his voice? He sounded like he’d been gargling glass.

  “It is, but you have other things you need to focus on, not a female who has no interest in challenging you, nor any ability to do so.”

  “Yes, I need to focus on eating.” With that he picked up a finger sandwich and bit it in half. Huh, cucumber and cream cheese. Not bad.

  “True, but also on why you panicked or on why you keep running from us. Perhaps on what happened to you that caused those scars down your back.”

  Trace froze, not even daring to breathe as he tried to decide what to do and say. He knew things couldn’t keep going how they had been. That was painfully obvious. And just plain painful. His lynx constantly prowled under his skin, driving him crazy on top of everything else.

  He slowly let out a breath and nodded to himself. “Just don’t demand I look at you, please.”

  “My only demand is that whatever you say be the truth, Trace. You may look wherever you need.”

  “Thanks.” To give himself something to do, as what appetite he’d had was gone, he nibbled on another of the little sandwiches. That one was turkey. While his stomach wasn’t interested, it was actually pretty good. “Um, Gods, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Let’s start with why you were up on the top shelf.”

  “Most defensible place and it was my space, my territory.”

  Sasha nodded. “Makes sense, though this entire suite is yours now as much as it is mine. You could have stayed in where you were and still have been in your territory.”

  Trace shook his head. “No, that’s your room. The other is mine. Even my lynx sees the difference, and so he went where it was his. It’s the only place here that is.”

  The deep sigh and frown tugged at Trace’s heart, but he stood by his reasoning. That was what he’d thought—well, what little thought he’d managed while panicking.

  “When I gave you your own room, it was to give you space, to make it so you didn’t feel so pressured by our bonding. It wasn’t so you’d section the suite into his and his.” Sasha slumped in his chair. “Especially not after what we’d shared.”

  “That’s just it. I’ve not shared, as you put it, in so long, much less with anyone of importance, that I freaked out. Letting you feed from me was one thing, giving you power over me a whole other.”

  “I don’t understand the power issue exactly. We talked it through beforehand. You had ways to stop things at any given point you needed. And I thought you trusted me enough to know I wouldn’t deliberately hurt you.”

  “I know that.” Trace sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Look,” he mumbled into his hands before dropping them into his lap. “I don’t know how to make this make sense to you, but I do know that, but I don’t all at the same time. Logically I believe you wouldn’t deliberately abuse me or my trust that way, but… but….”

  “But you can’t trust me not to change and abuse you somehow if you give me what you perceive as power over you.” It should have been a question. Sasha seemed to do that too often, stating things that ought to be an inquiry. How could he know that?

  Trace wasn’t certain how to respond, hating how his past was showing—as usual when he dealt with Sasha. He tried to, though, but nothing came out.

  “I have never done the things you fear, Trace. I know my stating that doesn’t help you believe, but there is no history of abuse in my past.”

  “You are a Dom.”

  Sasha took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I already went over that. It’s not quite the same thing as the human concept of Dom, but yes, I am. I don’t know a ruling member of vampire royalty who isn’t. It’s a part of us, but that doesn’t mean we’re cruel or abusive any more than it does in the mortal side of things.”

  “I’ve been owned by one who claimed that position before!” Trace jumped up from the table, his vision blurring at the edges as it darkened. His heart beat so loud and fast Jalin and Summer probably heard it. Turning around, he slipped his robe so Sasha could see the marks on his back and hissed, “This is what being owned and loved gets me! I won’t go through that again.” He raised his robe back into place, spun on his heel, then fled back to his room, not caring the tears he’d struggled not to let fall streamed down his face despite his efforts.

  SASHA SAT in the chair opposite Trace’s, head tilted to one side as he continued to stare after his fated heart, confused not by what had been said, but by what had been seen. Seeing Trace’s back before had made Sas
ha angry and concerned; this time it had made him confused. The scars didn’t look the same. Well, from what he could see in that short flash of skin versus the previous time… but Sasha had also followed the lines through Trace’s clothes with his fingertips while Trace was recovering, and he was positive the scars seemed much lighter and fewer in number.

  He was so caught up in his thoughts about the scars he barely noted Trace’s actual leaving until Trace’s door slammed. The sound managed to snap him out of his swirling thoughts, though, and back to what was going on now. Sasha jumped up and hurried after Trace, determined not to allow his heart to retreat or overlay the actions of the bastard who hurt him before onto their present and future.

  Once again he stood before Trace’s door. Gods, but he was getting tired of this! Before he knocked he pulled out his cell and sent a short text to Keith. He hated going around Trace, but it was getting ridiculous: this and the scars changing thing needed answers. For that he needed a doctor, probably, and shifter and vampire ones alike were all on the shifter land.

  That done, he raised his hand, only hovering for a moment before he rapped lightly on the solid wood.

  “I don’t wish to speak to you, Sasha,” Trace grumbled through the door.

  “You are a grown male, not a child, Trace. Hiding is beneath you.”

  “Ha! You call me ‘boy’ all the time.”

  He counted to thirty, as ten and twenty weren’t enough, before he tried again. “Point, but that’s meant as an endearment, not as a behavior expectation. I tend to call people—especially Jason—‘hon’ too, which is short for honey. Do you honestly think I expect them all to turn into a sticky liquid that bees make?” Cannot believe I just asked that!

  The door flew open to reveal Trace, mouth agape and eyes wide. “What the hell? You did not seriously just ask me that?”

  Sasha smoothed his hands down his shirt until they rested at the top of his thighs. “I did. It’s just as illogical as what you asked.”

  “What you just…. No, that’s…. Have you lost your mind? That was—”