Prophesy Book III Page 8

  “We go to the breakfast hall in the morning before we are assigned to our post,” Ramon said, oblivious to Adres’s situation. “We wanted to escort you over. We are all honored to be under your command now, my Lord.”

  Still ignoring Ramon’s compliments, Adres followed Macauley’s scent to a small cottage, and the scent of pheromones and lust permeated the air.

  Ramon let out a dirty chuckle. “Seems as if a few of the shifters are taking advantage of the curfew and starting their nights a little early.”

  Vicious jealousy yanked hard on him, overriding his senses as he stormed towards the female beta’s door. He could smell her syrupy lust from yards away, heard the whispered promises she made to Macauley to take good care of his needs.

  Hatred threatened to choke him. He was about to kill again. And he had no doubt he would have if the legion twins he’d assigned as Macauley’s guards had not stopped him.

  The frigid northern air rolling off the snowcapped mountains was nothing compared to the icy daggers piercing his stomach. Seeing Macauley next to the six-foot, scantily dressed woman who was a picture-perfect model of what an alpha’s mate should be made his fears of inadequacy grow to exponential heights.

  Macauley appeared confused for a moment, but when he noticed Adres standing off to the right, he looked like he might have been happy to see him… until he noticed Adres’s displeased glare, and his smile fell. Good. Know that I am serious, young wolf. It wouldn’t be wise for Macauley to taunt him.

  Adres watched as Macauley leaned towards the woman and attempted to whisper something in her ear, but he was not fucking having it. Adres shot a burst of his intimidating power at Macauley, hard enough to jolt him. It made Adres hot in more ways than one when Macauley took the blow and absorbed it before he turned and smirked at him, as if he wanted to feel more of that.

  “Do not tempt me, wolf. Leave her side. Acum!” Adres sent his voice on the breeze so the other vampires couldn’t hear him. Macauley tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure how he was hearing him, but he quickly left the woman gaping on her porch and walked towards him with that sexy, innocent smile on his full lips. But what Adres heard going on between him and the she-wolf was anything but innocent.

  Macauley didn’t stop walking until he was standing so close that Adres had to tilt his head back to maintain his irritated glare.

  Macauley lowered his head, his rough jaw scraping against his temple as if he was marking his scent on him, and Adres fought over whether to shove him away or to keep bathing in it. “You are the only one that can glower at me like that and not have their throat ripped out.”

  Adres’s breath sawed in and out, and an irrational urge to do something lethal to that beta made his vision cloud around the edges. “If you care for her at all, you will stay away from her.” He turned away, unable to remain there another moment so he didn’t act on his threat. He’d only taken a couple of steps before he was grabbed from behind and wrapped in a hold so strong, he couldn’t shake himself free.

  “Send your men away. Now,” Macauley demanded against the shell of his ear, his rough voice low and threatening. “So they don’t witness what I do to you.”

  Adres blinked as his cock began to harden, and emotions that were neither anger nor despair fought in his chest and kept him in place.

  “I will meet you in the war room, my Lord, after the men are posted,” Ramon said from somewhere to his right. Adres was not used to having anyone waiting for his orders and following his commands, but he gave the Lord Protector a jerky nod before he flashed away with the legion behind him.

  Macauley spun him around when they were alone, his insistent fist forcing Adres’s chin upwards so all he could see was the intensity reflected in Macauley’s blue eyes. “First of all, do not turn your back on me… ever. Second, do not threaten a member of my pack.”

  “You threatened her life,” he admonished, “not me. Stay away from her.”

  “Wow,” Macauley murmured, stroking one side of Adres’s cheek and gazing down on him as if he were something beautiful. When the pad of his calloused fingertip grazed over the scar above his ear, Adres pulled away.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?” Macauley said, his gaze roaming over Adres’s face.

  It appeared the young wolf had gained some clarity also after they’d parted ways last night. Yet, Adres knew it didn’t change anything. “I know who I want you to be… but I am afraid that is not possible, young wolf.” Even as Adres said the words, a bittersweet knot of pain formed inside him. If only he’d never come here… he never would’ve found him. And he would not have to endure the agony of a thousand deaths when he was forced to walk away.

  Adres made a sharp whistle, and a moment later, the air charged around them, and Război appeared at his side. His good friend shoved his muzzle in his chest, looking happy, strong, and well-rested—at least one of them had had a good night. Even his saddle had been treated and conditioned. Justice’s stable hands must’ve been as capable as he had claimed.

  “He’s a beautiful creature,” Macauley noted, running his hand down Război’s flank. “How do you get him to move so fast?”

  “He has been given a steady dose of my blood from the day he was born up until his abilities were fully formed.” Adres wasn’t sure why he’d answered the question. He was not used to being interrogated, but of course, he didn’t seem to mind Macauley’s curiosity.

  Adres swallowed roughly. He’d relinquish every ounce of magic he harbored if it meant he could have Macauley as his own. Why had fate played such a horrible trick on him? All he’d ever done was champion for his people with his life. Yet he was rewarded with years of loneliness for his good deeds.

  He kept his shoulders back and his head up as he led Război deeper into the woods, though he felt as if he could’ve crumbled at any moment. Waking up with Macauley on his mind and his dick as stiff as a javelin after dreaming of him for the few hours he’d been unconscious had solidified his presumption. Which meant there was only one thing he could do—ensure Macauley was safe and any threats to his life were eliminated, and then he’d leave and hope it didn’t take more than six months for him to die of starvation.

  Război trotted ahead after noticing a bush of blueberries a few yards away, and Adres followed. Now was as good a time as any to get started on securing the entire perimeter of Justice’s territory. The Volkov pack lands ranged for miles over the White Mountain Forest; it would take several nights to secure it all. But he wouldn’t stop until he was done. He could never give his cherished his soul, but he could give him this. It was all he was good for.

  “Where are you going, Adres? We’re not done talking.”

  “Yes we are.”

  A low growl rumbled in Macauley’s chest. “No. We are not.”

  “I have to get to work, young wolf. The sun falls and rises quickly in the mountains.”

  Macauley came closer, his mind and core completely open, and Adres almost choked on all the righteous goodness standing there just waiting for him to taste. Futu-i. He was tired, starving, distraught, and overwhelmed all at once. He couldn’t continue to stand there and gaze upon heaven, only to have the pearly gates slammed in his face.

  “You have time. Your men are in the breakfast hall. Don’t you need to wait for them?” Macauley’s words, his height, his bulk, his sexy superiority all moved Adres backwards until his spine connected with the smooth surface of a large boulder. “Have you… did you get to…”

  Adres’s breath left his lungs in a rush as Macauley placed his palms flat against the surface on either side of his head and leaned into him, his thick biceps preventing him from getting away. But little did he know, Adres was not going to put up a fight. “Did I…”

  “Feed… or eat,” Macauley asked roughly, a hint of genuine concern resonating in his voice.

  “No.” There was no use lying.

  “Did you eat last night, then?” Macauley whispered, as if he’d asked a question he didn’t wa
nt the answer to.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Macauley.” Adres sighed, exhaustion seeping through the cracks of his shield that he could never fully keep enforced around his beloved. My beloved. Adres felt a blunt object jab at his chest, causing him to almost choke on his words. “I am not hungry.”

  “Adres.” Macauley lowered his voice, but Adres could tell it took a tremendous amount of effort for him not to yell as he commanded, “Do. Not. Lie to me.”

  Adres flinched at the hurt in Macauley’s tone, feeling terrified that he was already in too deep. “When I feed… or do not is of no consequence. Just know I have enough energy to protect you and everything you cherish.”

  Though one of those things will never be me. Adres attempted to flash away, but Macauley jerked his arm out and caught him around his midsection. His back was returned to the cool stone in a fierce second, and Macauley used his bulk to pin him down. “Then you must not know how this is going to work. And until you do… you are not going anywhere.”

  Please, my beloved, let me go now. Adres didn’t know how much more of this he could take. The cruelty of it all was crippling him. It had only been one week and already his body was fatigued. If word traveled of his dilemma, his name, his life, everything he’d worked for would be discounted. He would not have his cherished, and he would no longer be the victor of his people.

  There was nothing left for him but death.

  Fuck, Adres’s body was strong and unyielding, his will incomparable to any vampire or shifter Macauley had ever met. Those characteristics in an alpha’s mate should’ve irritated him, but it was the opposite. Macauley had always been turned on by boldness, by anyone who wasn’t afraid to give him the brutal truth.

  The time for coyness and avoidance was over. They both knew who they were to each other, and it was clear that Adres also recognized something was off with their bond. Macauley was going to find out what it was, right now.

  He pressed close and wrapped one arm around Adres’s waist in case he tried to flash again. He’d been surprised he’d caught him the first time; a second attempt, he might not be so lucky. Holding Adres felt better than anything he’d ever held. It felt right. Their closeness made his head spin as if he was intoxicated as desire pooled below his waist.

  A tortured groan escaped Adres’s lips, and Macauley squeezed him harder. His mate began to mutter words in a language that he didn’t understand, and he wondered if Adres was cursing him or thanking the gods. It could have been either. Regardless, he liked how sexy his accent sounded. Macauley cupped Adres’s chin, and he allowed him to tilt his head back and touch their foreheads together.

  “Don’t,” Adres groaned, an edge of panic lacing the single plea.

  “Put your arms around me,” Macauley commanded.

  He was patient as he waited for Adres to do as instructed. Minutes dragged by, and the tension grew thick around them until Macauley was worried Adres would refuse. But slowly, those toned arms slid over his shoulders until he felt cool fingertips caressing the nape of his neck.

  “Mmm. Tighter,” Macauley growled as a full-body shudder tore through him.

  Adres’s hands clutched him, and Macauley released a breathy sigh, attempting to calm himself enough to concentrate on what he needed to do. He wrapped his mind around his beasts’, making them one, making them twice as strong, and pushed his power into his mate.

  “Too much,” Adres gasped. “It’s too much. Vă rog.”

  Macauley stroked his thumb over Adres’s bottom lip, watching it tremble beneath his touch. “It hurts because you’re fighting me. Stop trying so hard to block me, Adres, and let me in. Let me see.” Macauley placed a gentle kiss in the center of Adres’s forehead, letting his lips linger on his pale skin before he nestled his cheek against his temple. “Drop your shields, mate.”

  Adres pulled back to gaze up at him, and Macauley had never seen such hopelessness in eyes that were so beautiful. Adres panted inside his mouth, his cool breath mixing with his heated one. “You do not know what it is you ask. I can only condemn you to a life of misery.”

  Macauley ran his hand down Adres’s spine, his hand gliding over the black, satiny material of his heavy cloak until he reached the swell of his ass. He was tempted to keep going, his cock thick and leaking in his jeans, but now wasn’t the time to quench that hunger. Adres’s soul called to him more… at least the parts he could sense.

  “Drop them.” Macauley squeezed, adding a bit of his strength that time. “Right now.”

  Adres released a sensual grunt, and his hips jerked forward, his body sagging against Macauley’s chest as if he’d given up the fight. Gradually, scents of berries and ginger and emotions of fear began to seep into Macauley’s spirit. He moaned with equal parts concern and excitement as he encouraged his mate to give him more. To trust him.

  “That’s it,” Macauley whispered, nipping at Adres’s neck near his pulse, hoping he’d bare his throat. He wasn’t given that honor, but he was rewarded with a hard cock thrust against his thigh.

  One at a time, Adres’s layers fell at his feet, and Macauley didn’t stop pushing forward until he felt the cement-like boulders crumbling as if they were being deconstructed. He felt the second Adres was fully exposed, and he made sure to keep his arms around him to let him know he was safe.

  Macauley inhaled again to see what he’d uncovered so far, and the scent that flooded his system made his cock go from aroused to lead-pipe hardness in an instant. He was able to smell a fragrance so sweet it could rival an omega’s. He suddenly wanted to plunge his tongue into Adres’s mouth and taste the sweet traces of plum that was his mate’s natural scent. He inhaled again, as if he were a cocaine addict, already hooked and unable to get enough.

  Macauley smoothed his hands everywhere that he could reach. He stroked the imperfections of Adres’s face and the battle wound along the side of his head. He mapped the curves and muscles beneath his armor. Adres wore a heavy midnight shawl shoulder wrap that had a hood ornamented with intricate beadwork and gemstones. Beneath was a black wool blazer with a standing collar that was longer than a traditional suit jacket and stitched with gold embroidery. His muscular legs were clothed in coal-black lightweight linen, allowing him to fight without restriction.

  He was magnificent and regal, whether he intended to be or not.

  And he was his. Flaws and all.

  Adres couldn’t take Macauley staring at him the way he was. He was so lost in the aqua-blue depths of his gaze as his cherished touched him in places that no one had before. Places and parts of him that had repulsed every other lover he tried to have… but not Macauley. He seemed to almost worship them. Perhaps it was because he was a Volkov alpha, but Macauley was not afraid of him and whatever lurked inside. And that was what would make walking away from him that much more difficult. But, gods, how was he going to give him up?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Macauley rumbled, his voice husky and richer than before, “but you are my mate, Adres. We can figure this out. I don’t believe fate put us here in this moment if we couldn’t be together.”

  Adres stared at him as if Macauley had hung the moon and stars tonight especially for him. With his shields completely down and his spirit exposed, he trembled at the strangeness. It was as if he’d just stepped out of his cabin naked. No heavy shroud to cover his face, no weapons, no shields, just him and all of his internal chaos.

  “There’s more,” Macauley said, glaring at his chest. “I need more.”

  Adres’s heart sank, and his stomach soon followed. He wanted to give Macauley so much more—he wanted to give him every fucking thing, but he could not. That was what he’d been trying to explain. But every time he opened his mouth, Macauley would fill him with more goodness, and all that would escape was a moan or a contented sigh.

  Without breaking his eye contact, Macauley slid his hand under Adres’s shawl and began to slowly undo the buttons, starting with the clasp over his throat
. Once he’d unbuckled the leather straps of his chest armor and opened the vest, there was nothing between Macauley’s skin and his but his silk dress shirt. He thought he’d stop there, but Macauley’s gaze darkened as he undid the top four buttons and slid his hand behind the material, placing his hot palm directly over his heart.

  Adres almost shattered. “You won’t feel what it is you search for… you won’t find the one thing that you need from me.”

  Război made a neighing sound in the distance, and Adres knew his companion could sense his distress. It’d be so easy to flash away and jump on Răz’s back and take off into the night. Just ride away from all of his problems. But a shard of hope had splintered in his mind, and two tediously aggravating words began to play on repeat.

  What if?

  “Then let me feel what I can.” Macauley grazed his cheek again, the ugly cratered side. “I know something is different with our bond. Not wrong or broken or anything else—just different. But I need you to let me see for myself.”

  Adres swallowed his anxiety and gave his beloved a jerky nod as he gripped the hand still over his heart, clutching it for support because he didn’t know what he was about to experience. Adres inhaled a deep breath, filling himself with the scent of Macauley’s wholesomeness that smelled of woods, pine, and a hint of something sweet like honeysuckle.

  “Close your eyes, mate. And don’t try to fight me.”

  This is it.

  He felt Macauley’s presence the moment he slid inside him, his power fluid and comforting when Adres wasn’t battling with it. His animal’s spirit was dominant, but most of all confident as it moved through his core to try to connect with his. His wolf was so close now, closer than anyone had ever attempted, and Adres again felt the urge to push him away. For the first time in his life, he was petrified. Scared his beautiful, flawless beloved would take one look at the emptiness of his soul and recoil in disgust.