Prophesy Book III

by A. E. Via

  Omor chuckled before flashing away in the direction of Macauley’s betas.

  He turned three hundred and sixty degrees, but he didn’t see Adres… nor could he scent him, which only served to infuriate him. “I don’t know what’s with the hiding act. But when you’re ready to be a man, I’ll be inside waiting,” he scolded, then slammed his front door shut behind him.

  He was done playing games with his mate.

  Macauley yanked his sweater over his head and tossed it onto the dining table on his way into the kitchen. He was starving, but he also wasn’t in the mood to jog over to Justice’s house and raid Henry’s leftovers. Instead, he made himself a heaping turkey, ham, and pastrami sandwich that he paired with a bag of plain potato chips. He ate standing in front of his counter and glanced around his home, trying to see it for the first time, the way Adres would.

  His house was an open floor plan with a large stone fireplace almost as big as the one in the main house. While they didn’t get cold often, there were plenty of days in the winter when the snow was up to his window seal, and without that heat source, he’d freeze his nuts off. He didn’t have blackout curtains over his windows or even shutters like he’d installed for Alek when he mated with Belleron. He’d have to fix that.

  Just like the rest of his brothers, they all had oversized furniture to accommodate their size, and he could see himself curling up on the wide chaise lounge and watching a movie with Adres resting against his chest.

  Macauley shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth and chased it down with a bottle of water. Once he was done, he wiped away the few crumbs he’d dropped onto the granite counter and turned off his kitchen light. He’d give Adres until the time he got out of the shower, and if he hadn’t shown up, then Macauley was going to hunt him down, and when he found him, it wouldn’t be pretty.

  How dare his own mate be so disrespectful.

  Macauley turned his taps on, ready to wash away the fatigue and stress of the day. He was getting backed up on his orders in his shop, and there was no way he was getting to those maintenance requests he had from at least five cabins last week. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything but healing his mate.

  The steam began to fill the large space quickly, and Macauley couldn’t wait to enjoy the high-water pressure. He’d spent the most time and detail on his master bedroom and bathroom, which included a separate shower and a deep claw-foot tub that was perfect for days like this. He stepped underneath the dual showerheads and dropped his head to let the hot water beat against the knots at the base of his neck. It felt good to be able to take his time.

  He poured a large dollop of bodywash into his palm and rubbed it over his chest. His nipples were hard and wanting to be bitten as he massaged the cardamom-scented soap along his pecs. He drizzled more down his abs and worked up a good lather before he took his cock in his hand and gave it a long stroke. Ahh fuck. He was too damn sensitive to hold back his groan, having gone too long since he’d had a decent release. Forever since he’d had a meaningful one.

  He leaned against the tiled wall and spread his legs wider while the water massaged his body. Macauley slipped one hand under his balls and massaged the sensitive skin while he kept the other on his shaft. Thoughts of Adres being there with him, his pale body dripping wet, his dark gray-and-black hair slicked back, and his long fangs piercing his throat, ramped up the sensations until Macauley was gasping for breath. Need slammed into him as he gripped himself tighter and jerked slower, figuring this would need to last him a while.

  Mmmm. Macauley was close already and he hadn’t been in there a whole five minutes. The veins in his forearms bulged with his restraint to be patient. It was a virtue he’d have to master if he was going to win the trust of his mate. And his soul.

  The fire inside Macauley was growing hotter, the flames licking at his faltering self-control. He knew he was about to erupt, but no sooner had his balls tightened like walnuts and his dick pulsed in his hand, he heard his mate enter his home.

  Or more like felt him.

  Awareness prickled at the back of his neck, and excitement drenched him faster than the waterfall he stood under. Adres didn’t have a single shield up. Macauley released a sigh of relief and a groan of frustration at his neglected hardness which was going to have to wait a while longer. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He inhaled deeply to see where his mate was as he tied a towel low around his waist, surprised to scent him just outside the door. Macauley’s cock pressed against the soft cotton when he smelled the richness of leather and the fragrance of sweet plums.

  Mate, his wolf growled at him. His beast didn’t understand what their silly human hang-ups were. Their mate was right there in front of them and ripened for the taking.

  Adres removed his hood as he stood in the center of Macauley’s bedroom, not knowing if he should sit, stand… hell, he felt like running all the way to the coast, then getting on any vessel that would take him away from there. But his mind would not let him get more than fifty miles away from the pack lands before the headaches started. Then the longing, and next came the dread, before he began to panic. The other night he’d put up his shields and tried to leave… not for good, but to at least clear his mind, but he’d just crossed the border of the White Mountain Forest before he had to turn Război around.

  He’d come to Macauley like he’d asked, unable to deny him, but he wasn’t going to do what he was sure his cherished wanted. Fuck, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to anymore. Vampires didn’t need sex and intimacy; they needed blood, nothing more. However, he was learning that what he’d assumed all of his life may not be true. He’d heard Macauley’s sensual moans when he’d come through the front door, and his cock had immediately taken notice. He hadn’t been so aroused and so often that it made him dizzy and maybe a bit crazy. Adres began to get warm under his heavy cloak and was about to remove it when Macauley opened his bathroom door and stepped out in nothing but a thin towel cinched below his navel.

  Elixir dripped from his fangs, and he had to force himself to turn away. Macauley chuckled behind him as Adres went and stood in front of one of the windows with a beautiful view of Mount Osceola. The moon was almost full as it cast a brilliant light over the snowcapped peaks, and Adres could see himself staring out this window just before dawn, before he closed the blinds and buried himself beneath Macauley’s covers to slumber.

  If only the gods loved me that much.

  Adres gripped the edges of the windowsill for strength, or to keep from ripping Macauley’s towel off. He looked like an alpha and smelled like one too. Like heaven. His masculine soap, coupled with his potent arousal, was making him horny and hungry. Gods he was starving. He hadn’t ached this much since he’d first begun to appreciate the beauty of the night, a young vampire with ample elixir to spread around.

  Macauley came up behind him and put his hands on Adres’s shoulders and squeezed, his lips pressed against the back of his skull. His cherished was so tactile, and Adres wondered if he’d be able to accommodate him. He had no idea how to live like a shifter or as part of a mated couple. His feelings confused him, and he couldn’t have articulated them if he’d tried.

  “Evening.”

  Macauley’s hoarse voice sent a ripple of awareness to Adres’s groin that he tried his best to hide. He sighed in frustration but mostly exhaustion. “I tried to stay away. I tried.”

  Macauley pressed himself closer and draped his muscular arms over his shoulders. “You continue to fight me,” he said against the rim of his ear. “All you have to do is give in.”

  Adres leaned into the warmth of Macauley’s broad chest, his scent and protectiveness feeling heavier than the cloak he wore.

  “Submit to me.” Macauley nudged at the back of Adres’s neck, encouraging him to tilt his head… but he did not. He nipped at his earlobe, growling as if Adres was pissing him off. “You can keep trying to combat me, stubborn mate… hold out… make me wait. What-the-fuck-ever. But
you are mine, Adres. I will have you.”

  “I will not mate with you, young wolf,” Adres said with conviction, or as much as he could muster. “I will not condemn your animal to insanity.”

  Large droplets of cool water dripped from Macauley’s damp hair onto Adres’s cheek and down his throat as he dipped his head lower. “You say that now,” he rumbled matter-of-factly and turned Adres to face him. “I’m a patient man.”

  Adres gazed into Macauley’s piercing blue eyes with uncertainty. How could such a gorgeous and remarkable shifter be given to an old, inflexible fool like him? Macauley cupped Adres’s chin and angled his face so they were looking into each other’s eyes. Adres held the connection as Macauley’s gaze roamed his face. He frowned as if something upset him before he grazed his thumb over the long scar across his cheek.

  “I don’t know why you look at me that way,” Adres whispered, his body naturally inching closer. He wanted to continue to gawk at the slick hair that spanned across Macauley’s thick pecs, but he couldn’t because of the tight grip on him.

  “Because… because you’re so… handsome.” Macauley paused a moment as if considering his answer. “You’re so mature, disciplined… and handsome. I guess I’m wondering why the hell fate paired you with me.”

  What the hell kind of vision did Macauley have? Handsome? Adres would’ve laughed if he’d been capable of such things. Instead he wrapped his arms around Macauley’s waist and laid his forehead against his chest. He was so tired he could barely stand, and the energy it was taking to control his hunger was almost draining him. He could hear the blood surging through Macauley’s veins, his heart thudding against his cheek. Adres’s breathing quickened as he began to lose the hold on his restraint.

  “You feel that?” Macauley unfasted the clasp of his shawl and removed it as if it was in his way. Next was his thigh-length overcoat, then his armor. “That’s my wolf responding to your hunger.”

  Adres’s throat felt as if he’d swallowed a burning piece of charcoal.

  “I’m not concerned about sinking my dick and teeth inside of you.”

  Adres’s cock twitched in his thin slacks, and he was humiliated at the slow grin that spread across Macauley’s face.

  “At least not right now,” Macauley amended as he clasped his big palm around the back of Adres’s neck and guided him to his throat. “Drink.”

  Adres’s knees went weak, but Macauley seemed to hold him up with little effort. “Macauley. That’s not a good idea,” he objected, his voice strangled and croaky from the heat singeing his larynx.

  “No. What’s not a good idea is me forcing you to.” Macauley clutched him tighter, rubbing his soft beard against the side of his head and down his temple, bathing him in his scent. “Drink, mate.”

  Adres was shaking, and he couldn’t stop it. “I am…” He swallowed roughly, unable to finish. It burned so bad!

  “You are what?” Macauley asked, stroking his thumb along Adres’s pulse.

  “I am… ravenous.” Adres’s elixir was leaking from his fangs, tangy and sweet on his tongue.

  “I can feel it.” Macauley groaned. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want your bite right now.”

  Macauley’s dick was nudged against Adres’s abdomen. He could feel the heft of it and the heat of his hot skin through the flimsy towel and his thin cotton pants. Adres had never in his years dropped to his knees before any man, but it was taking all of his might to keep from doing it now. He wanted his cherished’s blood running down his throat and coating his corrupted insides with his goodness. He wanted his cock in his mouth… no, in his ass, while he submitted to the alpha wolf inside him. Thoughts he’d never had before. And though he wanted all of that and more for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Macauley. He’d die first. And that left him in the worst catch-22 in existence. Fate was one mischievous bitch.

  “What if I—”

  “You won’t.”

  “But if I can’t... ”

  “My wolf will stop you.”

  Adres didn’t like how that sounded, and his face must have shown it.

  “It won’t come to that. I promise.” Macauley pushed his energy into him, slow and sexy, as the last of Adres’s reserves crumbled like a rickety bridge. Pure, wholesome sweetness seeped over the sparse, visible pieces of his soul like syrup down a maple tree.

  “Unnnh.” Adres didn’t know if he was going to come from Macauley’s power or die from hunger first.

  Confidence and trust touched his mind, and then he felt it, Macauley’s presence in his head. He gasped at the wonder that was his beloved. What is… how? He couldn’t communicate with him with words, but it was as if he could read Macauley’s thoughts. Oh gods. His cherished was aroused beyond measure, excited and waiting eagerly for him to bite. His wolf was right there too. Strong and commanding.

  Drink, mate.

  Adres pressed his tongue against Macauley’s hot skin then opened his mouth over his jugular. Macauley released a soft sigh, their mind connection still holding strong. His fangs dropped until they were touching his bottom lip, and his elixir trickled down Macauley’s shoulder.

  “Mmm.” Macauley vibrated against him.

  Adres kept his arms around Macauley’s waist, their height putting him in the perfect position so that his face was nestled in the crook of his neck. Macauley inhaled a sharp breath as Adres pierced his skin, pushing his serum first so his beloved would feel nothing but exquisite pleasure as he fed. The first few drops of Macauley’s blood running down his throat made his eyes roll behind his lids. He pushed more elixir as he plunged his teeth in deeper, making Macauley groan. His alpha tilted his head back farther, driving his fingers into Adres’s hair as his scent escalated from aroused to mouthwatering delicious, his pheromones flooding him inside and out.

  Adres sucked cautiously. Not only because he wanted to be safe and sure that he wasn’t taking too much, but because he also wanted to savor every drop. He paused his drinking to flick his tongue against Macauley’s clean skin, but he bit into him again as he was pushed back against the wall.

  “Fuck. Don’t stop,” Macauley growled.

  Adres sucked harder, his dick aiming to break free from the confines of his briefs as Macauley thrust his cock up to meet his. He couldn’t stop if he tried. Macauley’s essence tasted as pure as the fresh falling snow blanketing the mountains. His Siberian shifter blood was bolder and more filling than any ethnic group he’d tasted. And he believed he’d had most if not all. Flavors of earth, pine, and honeysuckle saturated his palate, yet as he continued to drink, it did little to assuage his hunger.

  Macauley’s head was tilted towards the ceiling as he held his mate in a grasp that probably made it difficult for him to swallow, but the pleasure from Adres’s bite was seeping through his every pore. He’d connected his mind to his to give him encouragement and to show Adres just how much he needed him as well. But he never pulled out as Adres fed, and now he could almost feel his satisfaction… and his craving for more. For something else.

  His mate wanted to mate.

  There was no refuting what Adres was thinking when all of his shields were down and Macauley was inside him. Literally. He struggled to keep his eyes open and his focus sharp, but it felt so fucking good. The flat of Adres’s tongue laving over his skin, his soft lips sucking on his flesh, and his jaws working to force more blood to the surface was by far the most intimate, erotic act he’d ever done. Nothing his brothers told him could have prepared him for this feeling.

  He eased out of Adres’s mind, stripping away some of the ecstasy, but it was too much for him to balance when he was so overwhelmed with pleasure. Adres keened with disapproval when Macauley withdrew from his core, but he kept him close to let him know he was still with him.

  Adres swallowed gulps at a time, and though Macauley could feel himself getting weaker, he pulled his wolf closer to the surface so he could give his mate a little more. When Adres had said he was raveno
us, he hadn’t been exaggerating. His appetite was insatiable, and there was no mistaking how turned on he was. Macauley began to rid Adres of the rest of his clothes. He pulled at the drawstring on his pants and shoved them down his hips.

  Adres grunted with his mouth still latched onto his throat as Macauley grabbed two handfuls of his ass and used it to grind their pelvises together. Adres’s uncut cock was peeking out of his briefs, the skin pulled back and his slit glistening with pre-come. Macauley just refrained from throwing Adres down and rutting against him until he smelled like his come. It was animalistic and cavemanish to even think it, but it was all he knew to get closer. To mark Adres in some way if he wasn’t prepared to take his bite.

  Adres pulled his fangs out and bathed Macauley’s throat with his tongue until he was moaning and thrusting against him. They were drunk off each other’s pheromones as they stumbled against each other, their hips moving as if they were independent body parts. He guided his inebriated mate towards his bed and was relieved when he put up no resistance as Macauley lifted the thick comforter for him to get in. Adres turned his face into one of Macauley’s pillows and inhaled a deep breath before rolling over onto his back, his gaze cloudy and hot as it roamed over Macauley’s chest and down to the obscene bulge jutting from his towel.

  Macauley tore the cloth away and let it fall to the floor. He massaged his balls with one hand while he held his cock in the other. Every part of his body buzzed from Adres’s bite. Henry had warned him about how potent the elixir could be, but he didn’t think it’d feel like some kind of heroin. Addictive… and highly lethal.

  He already wanted more.

  Adres hissed and spread his legs wider, his small briefs doing nothing to conceal his erection. Macauley was wondering if his mate would ever let loose of his ironclad control and enjoy what they had of their bond, no matter how small and fragile. He bit his bottom lip as he ate up Adres’s body with his eyes. He was flawed and imperfectly gorgeous. His chest had many near-fatal wounds that looked to have healed long ago. And his thighs were toned and muscular, flexing as he writhed over the white sheet.