by Toby Aden
The two guards were already approaching as he gave his orders, but they stopped when they got to his side, staring from the books to Finc then back again.
“We will get right on it,” the other guards said. “However, we cannot leave your side.”
Finc nodded. “I will come along then.”
Satisfied that they would not openly oppose the orders their king-to-be had given, they bent, heaved a few of the booklets in the stacks, and began carrying them out of the room with Finc right on their heels, carrying a few of the books also. They worked in silence, making several rounds until all the books and Finc’s writing materials and ink were moved to Galen’s room before Finc riffled through his things and gathered his clothes and the bare essentials that he would need.
When they had finally finished moving Finc’s things from his room to Galen’s, the guards resumed their posts outside the door, and Finc began sorting his things into a neat stack to one side of the room, ensuring that the space was neat and well organized. He arranged his clothes in the dresser and his writing materials and ink on the desk present in the room. Once done, he moved back to glance at his handiwork and nodded, satisfied that his things would not be in the way or make the room look haphazard.
Finc then walked over to the connecting bathing area, pulling off the torn clothes from his body. He climbed into the small bathing pool and settled into it, letting the water soothe his thoughts and his mind, to wash away his worries and the physical aches in his body from the scuffle with Darix earlier.
* * * *
Galen and Sadri walked back into the study where they found Bojore and his wife awaiting their presence. Without waiting for the two to tell him to sit, Galen occupied his earlier seat and then pinned them with a look so undeniably angry.
“Tell me, Lord and Lady Bojore. Is this how you treat your son Finc in this household?”
“Of course not, Your Highness,” Urla said, answering so quickly that Galen doubted the truth of her words.
“Is he not of your loin? Not your own very child, Bojore? I do not wish to hear any lies or tales of tradition and illegitimacy. What is your real reason for refusing the mating between me and your son Finc?”
Bojore’s lips tightened into a thin line, revealing that the man was not happy at all at being questioned this way, but Galen did not care one bit. He wanted an answer and fast before he was forced to take drastic measures.
“He is the result of an affair with a lowborn woman. I am sure you are aware that half-breeds are not well tolerated in this region. I have taken him in and cared for him till his maturity age. I will not have him steal my other son’s birthright.”
Children born of the higher class of Faes and the lower class were often times referred to as half-breeds, a derogatory term used by the highborn against the average lot who bore no title or were born of a mixture of this. The term was an unkind one but deeply rooted into the higher born lot of the Earth Faes.
“Steal? Steal? Did you say steal? Your own son? For something he is not responsible for? For something he had no control over?” Galen asked, his voice rising slightly in anger.
Bojore shrugged. “Our fates rest in the hand of our full-blooded son, Darix. He is the only one contractible in this arranged marriage. With all due respect, Your Highness, I cannot have a loose cannon have a say over our generation’s fortunes and lineage. We wish to keep our line pure, and having Finc as your mate to fulfill the contract will not be tolerated by any of our family members.”
“I cannot believe the words I am hearing,” Galen hissed.
“This is the way of our family. Our beliefs and opinion will not change anytime soon either. If you wish to have Finc along as your lover, provided Darix is willing of course, then you can have him under those terms. Otherwise, we will not engage in this matter, and we will seek reparations for the time and energy that has gone into preparing Darix for the role of your mate.”
“What sort of reparations?” Galen asked, his voice silkily deceptive to the boiling rage building up in him with every word uttered by this couple.
“An advantageous marriage of equal standing or slightly equal standing for our troubles, a yearly stipend to ensure that Darix is well cared for regardless of the advantageous marriage, and your firstborn son born to you by Darix.”
Galen stared at Bojore in horror, unable to quickly mask it for a few minutes. “You must be joking.”
“I assure you, Your Highness. I am very serious. That is the only reparation we will accept if you do not wish to break the contract between our families and to maintain or continued support in all things.”
Galen stood up slowly, never taking his eyes off the couple before him before turning and exiting the room without another word, his aide Sadri rushing to keep up with him. He was too angry to think rationally right now or even see his mate. He did not want his mate catching word of the conversation he just had with his mate’s father either.
The situation had spiraled out of control ever since he stepped foot back into the study, but he was not going to give them the satisfaction they sought. If he had to, he would wipe the entire family off the register and ensure that their property and title went to another family. It was an entirely drastic measure. But if they pushed him too hard into a corner and thought to have one up over him, they had another think coming.
All he just needed was his parents’ approval for what he had planned. In fact, to give them the benefit of the doubt, he would have the advisors here to negotiate a deal on his behalf, ensuring that they sought his best interests with the exception of Bojore’s family line in the advisor team. If all else failed, it was on to plan B, and plan B would not benefit the Bojore family in any way.
No matter what their family tradition was or what the contract had stipulated, a fated mate was on an entirely different level. It superseded any other contracts and arrangement. If the family was deemed too greedy for what they were allowed, he would handle them in such a manner that no one would dare oppose him again.
Once he had calmed down sufficiently, Galen walked toward his room, pausing at the door to eye the guards he had stationed to ensure no one bothered his mate.
“Anything new to report?”
“We moved his things here, Highness, and no one has come by since,” one of the guards responded.
With a nod at the two soldiers, Galen pushed the door open and walked in. Gaze flirting all around the room, he instantly noticed the difference in the room from before he left his mate in there. Curiosity had him moving toward the several stacks of paper booklets placed to one side of the desk in the room. He studied the different paintings of two males on the covers of the topmost stacks and noticed that though the artist was not perfect, it was still clear enough to make out what was drawn.
He lifted one of the booklets in his hand, feeling the fine papers between his fingers and noticing that it was of top quality, though not the best of the top qualities there was. He flipped the page over and soon realized that what he held in his hand was a book. Stories written by Funchent, a favorite author of his brother Kalen.
He had not recognized the book because the cover was different from the one his twin had shown him, but the name clearly written on the book made it clear who the author was. When he noticed the writing equipment and ink on his desk, it did not take him to realize that his mate was that famous author Funchent.
By the gods, his brother would squeal and pester his mate once he found out that his favorite author whom he waited diligently for every new book released was Galen’s own mate. He chuckled to himself, and he could not wait to see the look on his face when his twin realized this. He himself was not a fan of reading these books, but Kalen and made a point of it to regale him with tales of the fantastical world the author Funchent created in his books.
Shaking his head, Galen replaced the book back onto the stack he took it from. His mind whirling from the huge number of books already prepared for the market, it took Galen a sho
rt while to realize that if Finc did not have anyone helping him with the writing process, then a lot of hard work had gone into creating all these books. His mate must have spent hours and hours creating all of these, and it was then he remembered Darix grabbing one of them and tearing it up earlier when he had been fighting with Finc.
Anger once again swarm through his body. Another nail in Darix’s coffin and another fact that boiled him over with rage toward the entire Bojore family line, with the exception of his mate of course. This strengthened his decision not to give into their demands all the more. He would not have a family who treated his mate as someone barely enough to breathe the same air as them and even go so far as to destroy his mate’s hard work be associated with them.
Now, all his thoughts were on ways to ensure that once they left this godforsaken place, the family would not have any contact with his mate and their family ever again. He did not care how he accomplished it, just so long as they did not bring heartache to his mate or treat him with any more emotional or physical abuse, then he was okay with said method.
Picking up his writing stencil and ink, he penned a quick letter to his family. One addressed to his father and the other to the advisors, and then another to his twin before sealing all three of them with his royal stamp. He walked over to the door, pulled it open, and eyed his aide, who stood hovering around the door.
“Have these letters delivered to my family and then see to your comfort,” Galen said, holding out the letters to Sadri.
“Right away, Highness,” Sadri said, accepting the letters before turning on his heels and sprinting away.
“Has my mate had anything to eat today?” Galen asked the guards.
“No, sire.”
“Then please ensure one of the kitchen staff prepare a meal. Enough for two.” With that, Galen nodded at the guards, then moved back into the room, and shut the door.
He ambled over to the long couch in the receiving area and collapsed into it, stretching out his body onto it as he waited for his mate to be done with his bath.
Chapter Seven
Galen closed his eyes, one arm thrown casually over his eyes and the other behind his head as he got comfortable on the couch and allowed himself to relax into it. Just for a few minutes, he allowed himself to forget about everything else to fade away.
Finc padded into the room, in the process of tying a bath towel around his waist. The moment his gaze landed on the figure on the couch, he froze, unable to move and not realizing he was flashing the man in front of him. As though the focus of his shock had a direct antenna to him, the man pulled his hand away from his face, and gray eyes pierced through him as though looking straight into his soul.
Finc stood frozen, holding his breath and helpless against the sheer presence of his mate. When Galen trailed those gray eyes of his down his body, caressing him from the top of his head, his hair held up against his head by a small towel, his body glistening wet and droplets of water sliding down his body in rivulets. When Galen’s gaze paused at his waist, it was then that Finc realized that there was nothing protecting him from the predatory look that came into his mate’s eyes.
Finc felt his body heat up and a blush work up its way from his chest, climbing up all the way to his neck, and then his face felt like it was flaming and on fire. He felt a full-body shudder work through him, and his exposed cock soon began hardening under Galen’s watchful gaze. For all he knew he should cover up, he couldn’t quite get his fingers to do what he wanted. What he was supposed to do. So he stood there on full display for his mate, watching the hooded lids lower until they were trained solely on his thickening member.
Finc saw Galen lick his lips and spied the raised tent in Galen’s pants but could not move, and even if he could, he did not know whether he would do so to retreat or to go to his mate. When Galen trailed those intense gray orbs of his back up to his face, Finc was sure he was on fire. There was no way it couldn’t be so. What with how hot he felt and the burning in his cheeks, he just had to be. With the both of them already experiencing their mating call—Finc’s beginning just a few days ago and Galen’s a few years into the call—their emotions and feelings were heightened and resistance most difficult to hold on to.
The knock that sounded on the door was what broke them from the charged tension between them, and immediately, as though it had a mind of its own, Finc’s hand had moved to tie the bath towel securely around his waist, covering himself up. He spared a glance at the door, then at his relaxed mate on the couch, and quickly dashed to the wardrobe to pull out a robe to change into.
He did not much care which robe he picked, just the first thing his hand found, and he was dashing back into the bathing area. Once he was out of sight, he heard his mate call out for whoever had knocked the door to come in, and he heaved a sigh of relief before going about getting dressed.
Embarrassed and with the lingering effect of lust still thrumming through his body, Finc dressed himself quickly with shaking hands and combed back the wet strands until it fell like a river down his back. He hesitated at the doorway for several minutes, unsure of himself, but when he realized that it would become more awkward should Galen have to come in here to fetch him, he took in a deep breath, let it out, and then walked out into the bedroom.
Galen looked up from the piling amount of food on the table to see his mate hovering by the bathing area. “Come on. Let’s eat. I requested for just enough for the both of us.”
Finc nodded, ducking his head down before moving toward his mate and settling into the area Galen patted for him to seat himself. He was seated so close to his mate that he could smell the unique aroma that was his mate only, but they did not touch at all. Soon, the smell of delicious food floated into his nostrils, and taking in a deep breath, he sighed at the luxuriously decorated food before them.
Cook really had gone out of his way for the both of them. No doubt news that he was Galen’s true mate had already spread throughout the compound, and Cook was treating them to a special meal before all the other obstacles would be thrown their way. He mentally noted to thank Cook later when he saw the man, but until then, he intended to enjoy every minute with his fated mate.
“It smells delicious.”
Galen chuckled. “Dig in mate.”
Finc smiled shyly and grabbed a spoon then lifted a spoonful of the food into his mouth. The flavor that burst on his tongue made him close his eyes, and a moan released from him not long after as he bit into it and began chewing slowly.
“Good, isn’t it?” Galen asked his mate.
Finc nodded and swallowed, eyes still closed. “Very. Cook really outdid himself with this one.” He opened his eyes and lifted another spoonful to his mouth, chewing that also. Finc turned to glance at his mate and realized Galen had stopped chewing to stare at him. “Something wrong?”
Galen shook his head and then chuckled. “You are so innocent, mate of mine.” He shook his head once more before continuing to dig into his meal, leaving Finc confused with his cryptic words.
“Why do you say that?” Finc asked, confused and curious.
Galen lifted the goblet of wine to his lips and took a sip, eyeing his mate all the while. He set the goblet down. “Why do you think I said that?”
Finc shrugged. “I do not know. Which is why I asked.”
Galen stared at his mate as though bewitched. “You really enjoy your food, Finc. I would love to see the same look if not something better when I finally get to make love to that sweet body of yours,” Galen said.
Finc blinked twice at his mate and then, when the words finally settled into his mind, felt himself blushing once more. His gaze dropped to the plate of food before them, but he could not say anything to what Galen just said. His mind had completely blanked out, and he was at a loss for words. Shyly, he peeked up at his mate when he heard the man chuckling, and when Galen reached out a hand to brush against his cheek, he felt himself blush even more.
“So gorgeous. You take my brea
th away,” Galen whispered, then leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the corner of Finc’s lips and pulled back and once again began eating his food as though nothing had just happened.
Finc stared at his mate in confusion, not knowing what to make of the man or what to think, ignoring his own food in the process.
“Eat, Finc. You need it,” Galen said.
At once, Finc turned his attention to his food, eating without thinking or saying another word. They ate their food in silence after that, with Finc just absentmindedly doing so, self-conscious and well aware of Galen seated next to him. He was so nervous it was a surprise that he had not made a mess of everywhere what with how his hand kept shaking and all.
Once they were done eating, Finc moved to clear the place, but Galen waved him off, telling him to sit back and relax himself. Galen then walked toward the door to instruct one of the guards to get someone to have the table cleared, then walked back toward Finc, and settled back in his seat.
Finc tapped his legs furiously against the rug on the floor, and he looked everywhere but at his mate, who from the eerie feeling he had, was no doubt watching him. He was almost relieved when the door opened and one of the servants came inside and began clearing the plates away. It gave him something to at least stare at to not make his discomfort well-known. He stared at the maid, and even though she had been someone he was not close with and who had not ever given him the time of the day, he was grateful at her presence in the room.
He knew it was a short break from actually looking at his mate, but the man intimidated him, and when he was nervous, he blurted out all sorts of things, even embarrassing ones. It took everything he had to keep his mouth shut. When the servant gave Galen a short bow, he knew his reprieve was over. He watched as the servant wheeled the tray of dirty dishes away and the door shut behind her, and he breathed out, ready to face his fate.
