Even so, he’d never been one to give up so easily. There had been a spark of something between him and the lovely sprite. They might not know each other just yet, but his beautiful angel, like his mind had dubbed the stranger, had connected with Graham on some level.
Deep in thought, he allowed the draechen to lead him to his cell. Taryn had been assigned to one straight next to his, but he couldn’t see the other werewolf. He was surrounded by four thick walls, with no window whatsoever. The only exit, the door, was crafted entirely out of silver.
Plopping down onto the cot that masqueraded as a bed, Graham buried his face in his hands. What could he possibly do to escape this place? He was trapped, trapped like a rat. Meanwhile, Shtamakarein was on the outside, likely putting a move on Graham’s mate.
This time, Graham couldn’t contain his anger. His howl echoed against the walls of the cell, far more desperate than he’d have liked. He hated giving the draechen the satisfaction of knowing they’d beaten him, but he couldn’t help it.
He didn’t know how much time passed while he waited when, at last, something happened. Footsteps sounded outside, ones Graham had learned to recognize. The guards outside opened the door, chuckling. “He’s been quite anxious.”
“Understandable,” Shtamakarein said as he stepped inside. This time, he wasn’t alone. His older brother, Hareematek had joined him. Graham mentally groaned. As if one draechen prince hadn’t been enough. At least he understood Shtamakarein, to a certain extent. Hareematek was notorious for his wild yet cold temper. They called him as chilly and unpredictable as winter itself, and Graham guessed that it was an appropriate comparison, given that ice was the element Hareematek controlled.
“So, you’re the famous captured Alpha,” the older draechen said. “You don’t look like much.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Graham replied without missing a beat. “I just don’t know how I’ll live with myself now. Perhaps if you’d arrived earlier, you wouldn’t have missed the show.”
“Fancy you mentioning that,” Shtamakarein commented. His voice had no tone whatsoever. It sounded like a robot was speaking, not a man. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I saw how you looked at my fiancé. He’s so high above you that you won’t ever be able to touch the soles of his feet.”
Fiancé. The word echoed through Graham’s mind and body, burying thousands of daggers into his heart. Images flashed in his mind’s eye, coming to him with a clarity that almost blinded him. He could so easily see the way his sweet angel would look in Shtamakarein’s embrace. The blasted draechen would pin Graham’s mate to his bed, immobilizing the sprite with one hand. He would cruelly bury his claws into the flawless, marble-white flesh of Graham’s lovely angel, uncaring of the true value of such a pure, priceless beauty.
“You will not touch him.” He shot to his feet and growled at the draechen. His jailers hadn’t even bothered to enchain him this time around. Perhaps they realized how truly helpless he was. “You will not place your filthy hands on him.”
“Oh, the mutt has guts,” Hareematek said with a smirk. “What makes you think you can give us orders?”
“He can’t,” Shtamakarein said. “He’s just a desperate, desperate man who’s lusting for someone he can’t ever reach. Get it into your thick skull, werewolf. You’ll never touch Caelyn. Never.”
Without further ado, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the cell. “Guards, bind him down. I want him in unbreakable silver chains.”
“Yes, Highness,” the guards said, hastening to obey.
At least a half dozen men entered his cell, carrying heavy chains. Graham tried to fight them, but just like before, they used those shock sticks that made his entire body scream in agony. Distantly, Graham wondered why in the world they were doing this if they’d decided against it before. He’d become a threat, but how and why was unclear.
Just as they finished shackling him to the wall, he heard the two draechen princes enter the cell next to him. In spite of the solid brick between them, he could clearly distinguish Hareematek saying, “Take him away and to my chambers.”
For once, Shtamakarein didn’t seem to agree with his brother. “Hareem…”
“Don’t argue with me on this one, Karein. I know what I’m doing.”
The exchange was so brief that Graham almost thought he’d imagined it. Personally, Graham didn’t know what to make of it, but as it turned out, the conversation mattered very little. He heard Taryn spouting obscenities as the younger werewolf was dragged away, and then silence fell. As he waited alone and forgotten in his cell, for the first time in his life, Graham hated being a werewolf.
* * * *
That evening
“So, how have you liked your stay here so far, Lord Caelyn?”
Caelyn sipped a little wine from his glass to give himself a moment to come up with a reply. He glanced at Shtamakarein’s brother, Prince Hareematek, and forced a smile. “Your people are as generous as always, Your Highness. Your hospitality always humbles me.”
The words tasted bitter in his own mouth, but he had to say them, to keep up the appearance of normality. If he wanted to rescue his mate, he needed to pretend he was happy here and with the prospect of being part of the draechen imperial family.
Prince Hareematek was very much like his sister, Akarawem. They’d been born as non-identical twins, and the physical similarities between the two of them were remarkable. However, Akarawem’s red hair contrasted sharply with Hareematek’s dark blue. From what Caelyn knew, they allied themselves to different elements.
Caelyn tried to keep up a pleasant expression, in spite of his apprehension. Across from him, Shtamakarein smiled back. Caelyn didn’t know why, but the expression didn’t strike him as genuine. “I’m quite pleased to hear you say that.” The draechen reached for Caelyn’s hand over the table and squeezed it tightly. “We didn’t have a chance to discuss things further before the unpleasant incident at lunch, but I’d like you to know that we as a clan are truly honored at your consideration of binding our bloodlines. Or rather, I should say that I myself am the honored one.”
Caelyn was taken aback at the words. Shtamakarein hadn’t struck him as very enthusiastic about their potential mating. Now, the draechen prince’s attitude seemed to have made a complete one eighty. “Prince Shtamakarein—” he started to say.
“Please, call me Karein,” the draechen interrupted him. “If we mean to be as close as I hope, we should be on a first-name basis. Besides, Shtamakarein is such a mouthful.”
Even Caelyn’s family seemed surprised, having apparently not expected such a bold move so soon. His mother managed to recover first. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said. “You honor us.”
“Nonsense,” the princess offered with a bright beam. “It’s a natural progression. For my part, I admit I never expected my brother to find such a lovely mate.” She must have realized what she was saying, because she quickly added, “You’re exactly what I wanted for him, what he deserves.”
Out of the blue and just like that, the decision had been made. Caelyn breathed through the panic and tried to focus on the bright side of the situation. As long as he courted the favor of the imperial family, he could stay here without anyone being suspicious. His chances to free his mate strongly relied on the trust the Tersain granted him.
Clinging to that thought, Caelyn lifted his glass and beamed brightly. “I’ll drink to that.”
There were cheers all around. Even if the proposal hadn’t actually been made, Caelyn had given his unofficial agreement to wed Shtamakarein. No, Karein. He had to get used to thinking of the draechen prince in informal terms so that he could reassure everyone that everything was all right.
Of course, he couldn’t appear too eager, at least not in front of his family. They knew him well, and they would suspect he was hiding something if he showed too much enthusiasm.
The entirety of the dinner passed in a blur of celebrations, veiled references to a blissful futu
re and wink-winks from the somewhat intoxicated Cormac. Deidre didn’t seem quite so thrilled—perhaps she’d have preferred it if she’d been the one in the center of attention—but even she perked up toward the end of the meal, possibly realizing the advantages she’d be granted once Caelyn was married to Karein. Besides, Karein didn’t exactly have the best reputation possible. In fact, Caelyn was almost hurt that his parents didn’t seem worried about him in the slightest. Not that Caelyn was afraid of his supposed fiancé, but it would have been nice to see a little concern from them nonetheless.
By the end of the dinner, Caelyn felt more uncomfortable than ever. He couldn’t get over the sudden openness of his supposed future mate, and he couldn’t forget the sight of his real one. Karein must have noticed this, because as they finally got up from the table, he asked, “Are you quite all right?”
“Fine,” Caelyn replied automatically. “Just a little overwhelmed, I suppose.”
Karein threw a look toward their companions and gestured Caelyn aside. His heart hammering, Caelyn followed the draechen prince. Together, they stepped out onto the terrace.
“Please, don’t try to deceive me. I can sense your disquiet.”
There was no accusation in Karein’s tone, but Caelyn still winced. “I don’t mean to lie. This is all happening so fast. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Understandable. Your parents weren’t as informative as they should have been.”
No, they hadn’t been, but Caelyn was reluctant to confirm it. As it turned out, Karein didn’t wait for that. He boxed Caelyn in, pinning him against the wall. “You’re very beautiful,” Karein said. “It would be my honor and great pleasure to have you as my mate. What say you?”
Caelyn’s mind went blank. Everything inside him screamed, begging him to refuse. He simply couldn’t accept. It would be a huge betrayal of what he’d found today, of the man who was trapped somewhere inside this very building, perhaps believing himself alone and abandoned. To top it off, Karein was personally responsible for the suffering of all those men and women.
In spite of the near-hatred that coursed through Caelyn at the thought, he’d have probably agreed. No sacrifice was too much if it meant a chance to save his true mate.
He opened his mouth to say “yes,” but he never got the chance. The shrill sound of a simple ringtone shattered the silence between them. Karein grimaced slightly. “Hold that thought. I’ll be with you in a second.”
Releasing Caelyn, the draechen prince retrieved a cell phone from his jacket. As Karein took the incoming call, Caelyn did his best to look as unobtrusive and discreet as possible. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he heard Karein greet his caller. He was speaking in the traditional tongue of the draechen, but Caelyn had been lucky enough to receive an education that included it.
At the other end of the connection, a female voice said, “Greetings, Shtamakarein. Your father needs you to report in.”
“I understand,” Karein replied. “I will leave within the hour.”
Caelyn noticed that the draechen prince hadn’t even inquired what the problem was and surmised the person he was speaking with must be his mother, the draechen queen, Rowenasheb. “Excellent,” she said. “I take it the problem we discussed earlier has been solved.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Karein answered.
“Very good. We will be waiting for you to arrive.”
As the draechen prince ended the call, he turned toward Caelyn once more. “Apologies,” he said, turning to common tongue once again. “It seems duty summons me away from pleasure.”
“That’s quite all right,” Caelyn answered. “I understand completely. I wouldn’t begrudge you your loyalty toward your family and your people.”
That earned him a small smile, although for a brief second, something like sadness flashed through Karein’s eyes. It vanished so quickly Caelyn decided he must have surely imagined it.
Karein kissed his hand in a courtly gesture, then led Caelyn back inside. “When I come back,” he said, “I expect an answer to my offer.”
Caelyn just nodded silently, more than grateful for the reprieve. He probably should have said yes on the spot, but fate or luck had granted him the opportunity to avoid it, at least for the moment. He wasn’t above using that for his own benefit.
Fortunately for him, Karein didn’t call him up on it. Instead, he left Caelyn’s side and went to his brother. The two shared a brief exchange that sadly, Caelyn couldn’t overhear, and then Hareematek said, “I’m afraid my brother needs to go, but I will remain here for the duration of his absence.”
For the first time that day, Caelyn felt the need to smile. Perhaps his situation with the imperial family remained delicate, but with his supposed fiancé gone, his chances to free the prisoners had certainly increased. And Caelyn had every intention of using that opportunity.
Chapter Three
A few days later
The hours and days passed slowly while Graham remained trapped in his cell. As far as he could tell, Taryn had not been returned to his, and just thinking of what the draechen might be doing to Monroe’s brother made him sick to his stomach.
But most of all, he kept remembering the beautiful sprite, his mate, the man who was so out of his reach. Caelyn. The name sounded like a melody, the sweet tones of delicate fingers flowing over the chords of a harp. Graham had never been a poet, but when he closed his eyes and recalled the sprite’s lovely face, the emotions that bubbled inside him made it impossible for him not to be, at least to a certain extent, dramatic.
As a rule, all werewolves recognized their mates upon either seeing them, smelling them, or touching them. The wolf knew it instantly, but for the man to acknowledge it as well took a little time, depending on the circumstances. Graham didn’t know how it was for other paranormal creatures, but he was pretty sure sprites shared this trait with werewolves.
Sadly, the fact remained that Shtamakarein had been correct in his words. Graham and Caelyn inhabited different worlds. Graham didn’t know how the two of them could ever match. A part of him, the one that had seen an answering desire in Caelyn’s eyes, wanted to believe it would all work out, but the chains burning his wrists reminded him of his true place.
“Caelyn.” He said his mate’s name out loud, tasting it in his mouth, remembering the way the sprite had looked in the ballroom.
“Caelyn.” The sprite’s beauty, his shock as their gazes met.
“Caelyn.” The way the room had shaken as Caelyn’s power flowed out of control.
As if his thoughts and words summoned the lovely angel, Graham suddenly felt a presence approach. The wolf inside Graham perked up, wagging its tail in enthusiasm.
Outside, the guards suddenly released twin shouts. “Halt! Who goes there?”
Graham tensed, hoping against all hope that his mate had anticipated this. To his surprise, he heard a female voice say shyly, “Greetings, my lords. Is everything all right?”
The draechen soldiers relaxed. “Oh, hi, Melissa. Yes, everything’s fine. His Highness just gave us some very specific orders, so we must be extra careful.”
The sound of soft, careful footsteps reached his ears. “But surely, you’re allowed to eat,” the woman said.
Beneath the modulations of the woman’s voice, Graham heard something else that called out to him. He didn’t know what it was, but it rushed over him like the water of a cool stream, calming down his pain and anxiety.
“I suppose,” one of the draechen said. “Besides, we couldn’t possibly refuse a gift from Cook.”
The girl laughed lightly. “Indeed.”
Did the soldiers realize that the voice sounded too elegant for it to truly belong to a servant? Probably not. It was far too subtle, and likely Graham wouldn’t have picked it up if not for the true identity of the person outside his cell.
Caelyn was certainly risking a lot by coming here. If someone discovered him, no illusion, no matter how skilled, would get him out of this mess. Yes, sprites were
very good at this sort of thing, but could the senses of the draechen guards truly be deceived so easily?
Apparently, Caelyn wasn’t worried about that, or was at least willing to take the chance. “What of the prisoner?” he asked under the guise of the servant girl. “Can I still take him food?”
“Yeah sure,” one of the guards answered. “He’s all chained up. He can’t hurt you, and besides, we’ll be right here if he tries anything.”
“Oh, I must be very lucky indeed.” Caelyn giggled. “Can you let me in now? I want to get this over with.”
Without questioning the supposed servant, the guards unlocked the door. A slender woman slipped into the cell. Although she was pretty, she looked nothing like Caelyn. But as she looked at Graham, her brown eyes flashed blue. Just like Graham had guessed, the visitor wasn’t a servant girl after all, but Caelyn.
When Caelyn approached, he retrieved a wet washcloth. Quickly and efficiently, he washed Graham’s face with it. He kept up the appearance of expedience, but from time to time, his fingers lingered on Graham’s jaw.
The angle didn’t allow the guards to see that, although they were clearly being watchful, obeying their commander’s orders. In fact, as Caelyn offered him a sip of water, one of them said, “That’s enough. We don’t want to baby the mutt. He pissed off His Highness with his arrogance.”
“Is that right?” Caelyn asked. “I didn’t know that.”
Throwing a barely noticeable glance of regret toward Graham, Caelyn started to pull away. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what happened.”
Hyacinth, Scarlet - Werewolf's Way [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 1] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) Page 3