by Aja Foxx
"Exactly what did that school of yours tell you?"
"About what?" Fagan asked.
"About why you were there."
"Oh, well, we were being trained to serve our masters."
Beck growled. "You were what?"
"They were training us to serve our masters."
Beck scooted up until he could lean back against his pillows. He pulled Fagan up with him. Now that he had his mate in his arms, he refused to be separated from him. He might let him go to the bathroom and eat at some point.
Maybe.
"What exactly were they training you to do?" Maybe if he started there, he'd figure out what in the hell was going on.
"We were trained to care for our masters."
"You said that already, Fagan."
"Right, well, um." Fagan's forehead wrinkled with a frown. "I was taught manners and etiquette so I never shamed my master. I can speak seven different languages fluently so I can converse with my master, five enough to get by, and understand a host of others. I can cook gourmet meals and can keep a house clean. I was also taught massage and reflexology, trained as a personal valet, and learned how to balance a household budget. Most importantly, I was taught how to protect my master if he was in danger."
Most importantly?
Was he insane?
"You are Sidhe, Fagan. You can't win in a fight against a shifter."
Fagan sat up and pushed back from Beck. His milky white eyes slowly rose. "What do you mean by shifter?"
Holy fuck!
"Fagan, you don't know what a shifter is?"
"No." Fagan frowned again. "Well, I know what the dictionary says they are, of course, but I don't know what you mean by shifter."
"I imagine it's the same thing."
Fagan stared for a moment before snickering. "Shifters aren't real."
"Yes, they are."
Fagan stopped cold. "Look, just because I'm blind doesn't mean—"
Beck's heart lurched. "You're blind?"
Why hadn't he been told this?
"All omegas are born blind. Don't you know that?"
No, he hadn't, but he should have.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as some of his bluster dropped away. He reached up and brushed some of Fagan's snowy white hair back from his face. "We were never told."
Considering the peace treaty between Sidhe, humans, and shifters was over a thousand years old, he wasn't sure how he didn't know. He figured someone would have said something at some point. He hadn't even heard any rumors.
"I figured the milky eyes would have given it away."
They probably should have. "I thought that was something unique to omegas."
"It is," Fagan insisted. "It means we're blind."
"No, I mean, I thought the color was unique to omegas, not that it meant you couldn't see. Besides, your eyes have a hint of green in them." Now he felt like a heel. "Shifters are real, Fagan." He needed his mate to understand that. "I can prove it."
Fagan's head cocked to the side. It was very cute. "How?"
"Sit back."
Fagan scooted back.
Beck climbed out from under the covers. It was a good thing he was already naked. He wouldn't have to get undressed. He grabbed Fagan's hands. "Okay, I want you to remember that I am totally sentient in my shifted form. I will know exactly who you are and I will not hurt you. Tell me you understand."
"I understand."
"Good." Beck moved back, putting plenty of room between him and Fagan. He was pretty damn big in his shifted form. He didn't want to crush his mate.
Beck swallowed tightly then allowed his tiger to come forward. He'd been shifting for years and the process was quick and easy. He knew of others who agonized through their shifts. He'd always assumed it was because he had shifted at such an early age and because he was an shifter king.
As soon as his shift was complete, Beck shook out his fur. It felt good. He could feel the remaining wounds he'd suffered when he was attacked heal.
"Hello?"
Beck stepped toward Fagan, his movements slow and measured. He chuffed, blowing a breathe out over Fagan's face. His tiger liked the way the human man smelled, even if there was a hint of uncertainty and fear in the air.
"Beck?"
"I'm here, little one." Beck gloried at being able to speak to his mate for the very first time in his tiger form. He waited so long for this special part of the bond between them to solidify.
Fagan's hand shook as he raised it to his head. "B-Beck?"
"It's me, Fagan."
"I can hear you in my head."
"It's part of the bond, Fagan. It is not to be feared."
"But—"
"Reach out, Fagan. Feel me."
Fagan inhaled a shaky breathe then reached out with his hands. Beck shuddered when Fagan's fingers sank into his fur. "By the gods, you were telling the truth."
"I would never lie to you, Fagan." He couldn't. It was impossible for him to lie to his mate. He was hardwired to always want his mate's complete happiness, and that included always telling him the truth.
Fagan's fingers clenched in Beck's fur. "How is this possible?"
"Shifters have been around since the dawn of time, much like the Sidhe have. We're born as shifters, so don't worry about that. You cannot be made into a shifter. You have to be born a shifter."
"You were born this way?"
"I was."
"Does...does it hurt to shift?"
"It did when I first shifted, but that was years ago. I've grown used to it by now."
"Huh." Fagan's hands clenched then stroked through Beck's fur. "You're so soft."
"I'm a Siberian tiger. We have soft fur."
Fagan gasped. "Siberian tiger?"
Beck felt like preening at the shock and awe in Fagan's voice. "Yes."
"Can I...?"
"You can touch me anywhere." Beck welcomed it. He started purring when Fagan's hands slid through his fur.
Fagan gasped. "You're purring."
"I am a cat. We purr." He doubted he would ever do it for anyone else, or even admit that he did it, but for Fagan, he'd purr as loud as he could.
The weight of Fagan's body pressed against him. He purred louder. Fagan seemed to readily accepted his tiger, but Beck couldn't help but wonder if the man he was would receive the same acceptance.
"I wish I could see what you look like," Fagan said as he mapped Beck out with his hands.
Beck held still as Fagan's hands moved over his face to his ears and then down his thick neck. He flopped onto his side when Fagan started running his hands over the fur of his stomach and back.
"You're so big."
If he could have smirked, Beck would have. In his shifted form, he weighed over seven hundred pounds and stood nearly twelve feet long. Siberian tigers were considered some of the biggest tigers in the world.
Beck was bigger.
"I have to be," Beck replied. "I'm an shifter king."
"What's a shifter king?."
Beck growled as he shifted back to his human form. "I don't understand how you don't know this."
Fagan shrugged. "They never taught us."
"They were supposed to."
Fagan frowned again. "Why?"
"Because you need to know these things," Beck replied. "You're my mate."
"Mate?"
Hell.
Chapter Four
Fagan held his breath when Beck didn't say anything. He prayed he hadn't offended the man. At the monastery, punishments were swift and harsh. He had no idea what to expect from Beck.
"I'm sorry," Fagan whispered, feeling the need to apologize for something. He just didn't know what.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, little one."
Fagan leaned back when he felt Beck move. Not because he didn't want to be touching the guy, because he did. There was something about Beck that gave him flights of fancy, made him wish for things he shouldn't be wishing for. Fagan was afraid Beck would realize just how af
fected he really was by the man's touch.
He'd taken sex education as one of his required classes. It had been part of his training. Every omega was to know how to pleasure his master. Fagan just had no practical experience. Hearing about sex and reading about it were a far cry from actually experiencing it.
"What is a mate?" Fagan knew the technical definition of the word. He just didn't understand how it applied to his current situation.
"For a shifter, a mate is someone special meant just for him."
"Meant for him how?"
Fagan grunted when he was grabbed and pulled to Beck's chest. He inhaled a slow, shaky breathe then immediately regretted it when he got a lungful of Beck. Pure masculine male. It was a strong scent, hot and thick.
It made Fagan ache.
"When you were born, all of the eligible alphas were brought to the Comhairle de Trí. The Council of Three. The Síceach chose me as your mate."
"Why?"
"I don't know how the Síceach knows who to mate to who, but—."
"No, I mean, why were you chosen as my mate? Why was anyone chosen?"
"Damn it, I can't believe you don't know your own people's history."
"I was taught history."
Beck snorted rudely. "You weren't taught Sidhe history. If you had been, you'd know that a thousand years ago, there was a great war. It pitted humans against shifters against Sidhe. It was bloody and violent and many died, too many."
"Why?" Fagan shuddered as he thought about all the people who'd died. He might not have known who they were, but he still felt for them.
"Power, mostly. People who didn't have any wanted it and people who had it didn't want to give it up. The unfortunate part was by the time those in power figured out a way to stop the war, so many people had died, that there were barely any shifters or Sidhe left. The world had turned to one ruled by humans."
"Is that why I didn't know about shifters and Sidhe?" There had never been anything mentioned in all of the books he'd read. He would have remembered that.
"I can't explain why you weren't taught this history because you should have been. And believe me, I will be finding out."
A great sadness enveloped Fagan, weighing heavy on him. He settled against Beck and laid his head on the man's chest. "How did they stop the war?"
"A council was established with an elder from each of the three species. Human, shifter, and Sidhe. The humans had compassion, the shifters had strength, and the Sidhe had wisdom. It was decided the only way to save the world was to put into place a set of rules that everyone had to follow."
Fagan frowned as he tried to remember any rules he'd been taught that would fit into anything like that, and he couldn't think of a single one.
"It was also decided that there needed to be a sacred bond to keep the peace."
Fagan swallowed tightly. "A bond?"
"Once every twenty-five years, five omegas are born to the Sidhe. They're brought before the high council and bonded to shifter kings to ensure that shifters always protect the Sidhe and the humans as well as their own. Those omegas are sent to the monastery where they are to be cared for and taught by the human monks until their twenty-fifth birthdays, when they are reunited with their shifter mates. During those twenty-five years, each shifter king and four of his most loyal warriors protect the high council."
"How does that create a sacred bond?"
"Each shifter king provides five warriors—himself included—to guard the high council to ensure bonds of brotherhood. The Sidhe provide five omegas to be mated to the shifter kings to ensure that shifters always protect those not able to shift. And the humans provide the care and training to the omegas to ensure that the compassion and empathy for those not as strong as us are not forgotten."
Fagan sighed. "I guess that means I'm the omega sacrifice this time around."
"You are not a sacrifice, Fagan. You are a gift."
Fagan pressed his hand to the side of Beck's face. Most people weren't aware of just how much their expressions gave them away. They looked at people's faces. They didn't touch them and feel their muscles move when they spoke.
"Do you mean that?" Fagan asked.
"I do. You were cute as a baby, but you're beautiful as a man, and I can't wait to get to know you better."
"You really saw me when I was a baby?"
Fagan felt Beck's facial muscles move and knew the man was smiling.
"Give me your right hand."
Fagan held out his hand. He shivered when Beck traced a small scar in the palm of his hand.
"Feel that?"
Fagan nodded. He'd had that scar as long as he could remember. He just had no idea how he'd gotten it.
"Now, feel my palm."
Fagan ran his fingers over Beck's palm until he found a small scar crossing the very center. He gasped. "You have a scar just like I do."
"I do. When the Síceach chose me as your mate, they performed a blood right ritual to bind us together. It means no other shifter could ever have you. Just me."
Fagan was shocked at how overjoyed Beck sounded about that. "You don't know me," he insisted.
"Not yet, but I will."
"I could be a psychotic axe murderer."
Beck's eyebrow lifted. "Are you?"
"No, but—"
Beck chuckled. "It'll happen in time, little one. Not to worry. We have a lot of learning to do with each other, but we already have a bond that entwines our souls. Nothing will ever change that."
Fagan's breathe caught as a thought formed in his head, growing larger until it was almost impossible to draw air into his lungs.
"Fagan, what's wrong?"
"You're my golden warrior," Fagan whispered. He didn't know whether to be overjoyed and frightened. Maybe both.
Beck's dark eyebrow lifted again. "Your golden what?"
"When I meditate every morning, there's a warmth that surrounds me. I feel a presence in that warmth, almost as if someone is there, protecting me and keeping me warm." Fagan drew in a shaky breathe. "It's you. It has to be."
There was no other explanation, not if what Beck said about their bond was true. It also might explain why he wasn't afraid of Beck, even though the man could shift into a tiger. Logically, he should have been terrified. He just wasn't.
"Can you shift back to your tiger form?"
"Of course," Beck answered instantly. "Move back a little. I don't want to crush you."
Fagan scooted back then waited. He felt the flow of air change and knew Beck had shifted. Fagan sighed as he reached out and sank his fingers into the tiger's soft fur. He leaned forward and rubbed his face along the tiger's neck.
"Thank you."
"You're more than welcome, Fagan. I'll shift whenever you want."
"You're just so soft. Don't get me wrong, my bedding back at the monastery was fine, but I've never felt anything as soft as your fur."
"You can stretch out on top of me if you want."
Fagan popped up. "On top of you?"
"I'm pretty big, Fagan. I think I can handle it."
Yeah, Fagan reasoned that that might be true, but he wasn't sure he could. Still, it was an offer too good to refuse. He moved slowly, carefully, climbing on top of Beck and stretching out along his long furry body.
Fagan groaned as Beck's fur brushed across all the exposed parts of his body. He couldn't imagine what this might be like naked, skin to fur. Well, yes he could. He just wasn't brave enough to ask about it.
"Comfy?"
Fagan grinned. "Yeah."
His eyes slid closed when Beck began to purr. He could feel the vibrations against his cheek. "Thank you for this," he whispered again.
"You're my mate, Fagan. I can't think of anything I wouldn't give you if it is within my power. Making you happy is not only my privilege, it's my duty as a shifter."
"What exactly is a mate?" he asked. "You never said."
"For a shifter, a mate is everything. From this moment forward, everything I do will be geare
d around you. Your protection, your happiness, your well being. You are now the center of my world."
For the life of him, Fagan couldn't understand why Beck sounded so overjoyed about that. "And what do you get out of our mating?"
"You."
Well, that didn't sound right.
"Beck—"
"You're not a shifter, so I know you don't understand, but for us, a mate is everything."
"You said that already."
"But, it's true, Fagan. My soul cries out for you, aches for you. Finally holding you in my arms and knowing you're mine fills me with a sense of peace and contentment I've never felt before. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in my life."
Fagan wasn't sure he had anything to say to that.
"My tiger is ecstatic," Beck continued. "To him, you smell better than the sweetest berries or the richest meat. You're better than lounging next to a high mountain lake or running all out through a thick forest. He wants to cover you in our scent so everyone knows you belong to us."
Fagan grinned as he rubbed his cheek against Beck's fur. "Is that why you let me lay on you?"
Beck chuckled. "That's one of the reasons."
Fagan suspected there was more to it than Beck was letting on, but he wasn't comfortable with the man enough to question him. At least not about that.
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"Greyson is supposed to be getting us something to eat."
Fagan lifted his head. "I can make us something. I did take gourmet cooking classes."
"I don't mean to be insensitive, but how can you cook?"
"You mean because I'm blind?"
"Yes."
"One of my earliest memories was of the headmaster telling me that my blindness would not be an excuse to not take care of my master. I was taught that I might have to try a bit harder, but there isn't anything a seeing person can do that I can't."
At least, not that he knew of.
"Can you drive a car?"
"No, but none of the elders could either."
Beck chuckled. "I don't tend to drive a car very much so it shouldn't be a problem."
"Do you have a motorcycle like the others?"
"I do."
