Now, the truly hard part began. G’aladon went into the center of the circle and knelt. His mates joined him, also sitting down on the grass. They settled in a triangle, the unbreakable triad that held so much strength and magic. As they held hands, G’aladon started to murmur an incantation, focusing every last bit of his power on summoning the orcs to him.
This was so important, and he tried to convey that in the call. They lived in a new world now, one that held openness and the possibility to love. If G’aladon had found soul mates, anyone could. And now that he was happy, he wanted it for everyone else as well, except maybe Havedok.
Magic coursed through him, bright, hot, and intense. He felt his mates support him, giving him the additional energy he needed to summon his people to him. He sensed Shaiyta guiding him, teaching him how to focus his somewhat still-erratic abilities. Through half-closed eyelids, he spotted bright light emerging around him. All of a sudden, the entire field was flooded with dozens, no, hundreds of shadowed silhouettes.
G’aladon fully opened his eyes and got up. This was it, the moment he had dreaded. There were so many of them and yet, so few. They had lacked a leader, and because of it, they’d perished. Guilt swelled inside him, hot and damning.
Fortunately, Quinn and Roarke were by his side, and through them, G’aladon managed to suppress the emotions that would have hindered what he wanted to do and allow only those that would help him in his task.
“Thank you all for coming,” he said. “I know you’re probably wondering why you are here.” The hows weren’t important, since they would all assume he still had the magic he had once boasted. He would not tell them it was not the case, at least not up front. “You must have felt a change in yourselves, and in me, in the past few days.”
There were a couple of murmurs through the crowd, but no one actually provided a reply. It wasn’t surprising, given what G’aladon had once been like. G’aladon berated himself for even considering abandoning them to their fate.
At the same time, G’aladon knew they must be having trouble accepting this new part of themselves. G’aladon had succeeded in getting his soul back only through a very painful process and especially because of his mates. It had been worth it because it had come to him naturally. For the orcs, it had been a somewhat more artificial process, and they must still be attempting to suppress it.
“Many centuries ago,” he began, “you appeared into this world, created by me. I wanted an army, a perfect one without emotions. I didn’t see what I was doing until it was too late and you were all beyond my reach.”
Some of them were frowning, while others seemed confused and trying to understand what he meant. In that moment, G’aladon noticed something he hadn’t originally seen. It seemed that many of them no longer had that hunched-over posture, their legs having straightened and their bearings now fully humanoid. Others remained in the same condition, and G’aladon noted that they were the ones who seemed displeased with the change in G’aladon.
Nevertheless, G’aladon continued to speak. “I had no soul, and neither did you. Yesterday, I used my magic to grant you that gift, to give you a new life in which you can experience everything that makes the world such a wonderful place.”
G’aladon paused, wondering if he had said too much. Truly, he probably shouldn’t have sounded so enthusiastic about it, but he couldn’t help it.
“Are you really His Lordship?” one orc asked.
This was what G’aladon had feared. “I am,” he replied, carefully tempering himself. He narrowed his eyes at the creature who had dared to speak. Unlike many of the others, this orc remained as hideous as ever. G’aladon narrowed his eyes at him. It would seem he had been right in his suspicion that this wouldn’t be easy.
“Some things might have changed, orc,” he said, “but make no mistake. I can still destroy you with one wave of my hand.”
Oddly enough, the threat seemed to reassure his people. In a way, it made sense. They were used to him being harsh and unyielding, punishing them if they made mistakes. His new self wasn’t anything like that, and they found themselves facing yet another foreign thing when they must have been hoping for something else entirely.
“The only difference,” he added, “is that I don’t want to. I want to help you, but I’ll have no qualms in not doing so should you question me again.”
Chastised, the orc backed down, but G’aladon could see into the creature’s heart and he knew this wasn’t over. Even so, many of those present appeared to be open to discussion. They wanted to learn more about the changes in their hearts, minds, and bodies. Because yes, unexpectedly, G’aladon’s powers had worked in two ways. It seemed that those Oriakai who were making a genuine attempt to understand and accept G’aladon’s gift had also become more humanoid, and their features were smoothing out more and more with every second they spent in G’aladon’s company. G’aladon’s powers over matter must have caused their bodies to adapt as well as their souls.
Since they were undoubtedly curious about the presence of a wolf shifter and a human, G’aladon decided to introduce the two men. “These are Quinn and Roarke,” he said. “They are my mates, and they helped me leave the astral realm.” Ah, fuck it. They must have sensed his agony upon losing Roarke, so there was no point in hiding and pretending. “We’re building a new life together, something I want for you as well. You can find mates of your own, people to value you and care for you.”
“Mates?” someone inquired. “Why would we want to do that?”
“Companionship. Love. Trust.” G’aladon enumerated a few reasons before realizing those words meant nothing more than elements drawn out of a dictionary for the Oriakai. “You will learn in time,” he promised, “and you will know when you’ve found the right person for yourself.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” a female orc said doubtfully. “Where are we supposed to start looking in the first place? No one will want us.”
G’aladon smiled. Just the question made hope spring up in his heart. “You can begin looking among your own kind, but if there’s no one who strikes your fancy, don’t get discouraged. The world is your oyster now. Make use of it.”
Urged by a force deep within him he could not deny, G’aladon went to the female orc. He cupped her cheek gently, making her eyes widen. She was far prettier than any Oriakai woman he had ever seen before. She wanted what he offered, but she still hesitated to believe that she could be loved.
G’aladon would have none of that. Using his natural bond with his creations, he sent waves of calm through her, urging the woman to open her heart to her emotions. She released a small gasp, but obeyed. Under his touch and through the power of her feelings, she became beautiful. Her skin grew smooth, her silhouette graceful. The limp strands of her hair turned wild, untamed, and silky. Fangs vanished, leaving behind straight white teeth hidden behind full lips that just begged to be kissed. She now looked completely human, but the orc agility and strength remained there, hidden under the surface.
As he released her, the woman looked at her hands and touched her face, seeming shaken. When she realized what had happened, she bowed in front of G’aladon. G’aladon caught her before she could kneel. “Don’t,” he said. “I didn’t do anything, at least, not right now. I just gave you a nudge in the right direction. All of you here have what it takes to start a new life. You just have to want it.”
“But…We don’t know how,” a male orc said. “I…I suddenly feel things. It’s confusing. I wasn’t confused before. I wasn’t…anything.”
G’aladon understood exactly what he meant. The real world now caused reactions inside the Oriakai, and their bodies and minds were not fully ready to grasp it.
“That’s why you have me,” he said. “To guide you.”
He looked around, eyeing everyone in the area. “I will not lie. Not all of those here have the potential to become like your friend here, not right now.” True beauty originated from within, and, sadly, a large number of the orcs cou
ld not bring themselves to love or care. The souls they’d received had been pure, but in their weakness, they’d allowed their previous experiences to taint them. “But you mustn’t give up,” he added. “You have a lot of work ahead of you, but as long as you don’t fear it, you will be fine.”
Hundreds of orcs began to talk at the same time. Some were wondering if they could be made beautiful like the girl had. Many openly watched Quinn and Roarke, debating whether they could, indeed, find mates, too. Others were pissed that their companions were even considering this nonsense. Yet others asked themselves whether they were capable of what G’aladon had suggested. Lastly, there were those who planned to exploit what they saw as G’aladon’s weakness and perhaps steal his magic.
These were all reactions G’aladon had expected. Insofar as the orcs could feel, they had feared him. It was an instinctual thing, born out of self-preservation. And while they should have the same connection with G’aladon that Roarke and the spirit wolves shared with Shaiyta, it had never fully formed because of G’aladon’s failure.
G’aladon sighed to himself. In the end, not everything could be fixed. Some mistakes were doomed to mark the existence of people and the world for all time. G’aladon wondered if he would ever manage to get over his guilt or if it would continue to plague him forever.
As always, Roarke and Quinn supported him, pushing aside the doubt. Quinn came to him and wrapped an arm around G’aladon’s waist, pressing soft lips to G’aladon’s cheek. It was tender, loving, and exactly what G’aladon needed.
Alas, the orc who had earlier questioned G’aladon took this opportunity to attack. The man lunged forward, moving faster than the eye could see. In a way, that didn’t surprise G’aladon. He had been expecting this. The man had been itching for a fight, having obviously not taken the transformation well. As much as it saddened G’aladon to go against his people, he would not allow for his mates to be harmed, not again, never again.
G’aladon pushed Quinn behind him, shielding the human with his body. Roarke was there, ready to jump to G’aladon’s defense, but G’aladon wordlessly warned his mate not to intervene. He needed to handle this on his own, to show the Oriakai that he was still their leader, no matter what.
The feral pulled Quinn back, giving G’aladon space to face this threat. All this happened within the expanse of a couple of seconds. When the orc finally reached him, G’aladon was ready. He slammed his magic against his opponent, suppressing a wince as the sound of bones cracking reached his ears. Groaning, the orc collapsed, sapped of his strength.
Centuries back, G’aladon would have killed one of his underlings just for looking at him wrong. Now, he was reluctant to end a life. The orc who’d attacked him hadn’t suffered a lethal injury and would quickly heal. Unfortunately, his hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of those present. There were others who shared the first orc’s beliefs, and G’aladon found himself crushing the resistance of more and more people.
They attacked from all sides, but in spite of their much larger number, G’aladon had no trouble in holding them back. It was only when they attempted to jump Roarke and Quinn from behind that G’aladon got well and truly angry. He unleashed the full extent of his abilities, bringing all the orcs to their knees.
“Enough,” he shouted. “You do not have to trust in me. You are free to live your lives in whatever manner you please. But know this. I will not condone any violent behavior against the humans, spirit wolves, or any other species. You can defend yourself if need be, and I will support you in that, but should you instigate assaults, I will personally hunt you down and bring you to justice.”
He might no longer have godlike abilities, but he remained powerful, and it showed. The orcs cowered in front of him, and those who’d attacked him attempted to retreat. They didn’t get the chance. G’aladon felt a buzz against his spine and knew Shaiyta had come to offer her support.
Just like that, his opponents vanished into thin air. It was much like she had done with G’aladon and his mates, only he’d never witnessed it from the outside.
The remaining orcs gaped. “Worry not,” G’aladon reassured them. “They have merely been taken to an incarceration facility where they will be no danger to themselves, or others.”
He had no idea how he knew that, but he did. It was information Shaiyta fed directly into his brain and something he felt very thankful for. Those orcs were too dangerous to let loose, but he couldn’t exactly kill them. It would be far too cruel, and he’d never be able to live with himself.
At first, the rest of his people still seemed a bit unsettled, but then a sense of calm overtook them. G’aladon understood that they had needed this proof of power as evidence that some things remained the same, no matter what.
G’aladon swept his gaze over the people now waiting in the field, watching him with avid eyes. The moon shone overhead, the Stonehenge pillars still vibrating with quiet magic.
“I will always be here for you,” he said again. “After this meeting, you will be free to return to your lives, but deep inside me, I will be watching.”
He smiled, and for the first time, many of them smiled back. It was all tentative, but seeing it there made G’aladon’s heart glow with joy. And under that light, the Stonehenge pillars start to emanate power. Bright beams swept through the crowd, showering everyone with power. G’aladon sensed the mystical energies of the location reaching out to him, and he embraced them, letting them grow within the vessel of his own body. His mates were right there with him, helping him along. G’aladon surrendered to it all, allowing his powers to run free.
When it was finally over, the light dimmed and G’aladon’s eyes adjusted to the lighter glow of the stones. He could see now that, where orcs had once stood, there were only humans. G’aladon had not expected this, but he did his best to mask his surprise. After all, his people would prefer it if he was unruffled by anything.
This was exactly what he had been thinking when he’d dreamed of a second chance for his people. He didn’t know how and why, but his desire had been heard by someone, perhaps greater than himself and even Shaiyta.
“Go now,” he told his former orcs. “And remember what I told you. Your gift can easily disappear if you don’t value it. Your beauty is in your soul.”
If nothing else, G’aladon had made his people intelligent, and they had no trouble grasping that concept. However, there was one thing G’aladon was not able to change. They all went to their knees, a sea of people bowing in front of him, promising lifelong servitude. G’aladon was uncomfortable with the demonstration of humility, but in all things, there had to be a hierarchy, and they needed him to accept their humble affection.
G’aladon gave them a few moments to focus their thoughts, then mentally whispered a good-bye in the ears of each and every one of them. Focusing his abilities once again, G’aladon sought the knowledge that had slowly started to accumulate within him. It came to him easily, the spell having registered within his consciousness as he had felt Shaiyta use it. In the blink of an eye, the orcs vanished from the field, returned to their lives from before.
When they were all gone, G’aladon and his mates were the only ones left in the field. The light dissipated, only the cold rays of the moon now illuminating the area. A sense of relief flooded G’aladon. He felt so giddy he wanted to laugh.
“Well, that actually went far better than imagined,” he told his mates instead.
“God.” Quinn rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I’ll say. After this, dealing with ferals seems like a piece of cake.”
“I’m glad you think that, baby,” Roarke replied, “because this isn’t over, not by a long shot.”
Epilogue
“Are you sure about this, Hewitt?” Roarke asked in a cautious voice. “It’s too much.”
“I wouldn’t have offered had I not been sure,” Hewitt replied. “Mason, Devon, and I are far too busy for me to stay here, and I truly don’t want all the work I put into it to go to waste.”
G’aladon released a heavy sigh. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t sent the orcs after you, you’d never have left it in the first place.”
Hewitt waved a hand dismissively. “Water under the bridge. Now, what do you say? Will you take care of The Witching Hour?”
Quinn would have very much liked to do that. They didn’t actually have any place to stay, and since G’aladon could now flash them from one place to another on will, they didn’t need to constantly be on the road like Hewitt, Mason, and Devon. Even with the Spirit Mother’s assistance, Devon and his mates would have a full schedule, and they were indeed unlikely to be able to care for the club.
However, Quinn understood why G’aladon and Roarke were reluctant to accept the offer. No matter what Hewitt said, their past hadn’t been forgotten. How could it? Hewitt had nearly been killed, and while Hewitt could be generous, Mason and Devon couldn’t just let go of the issue. For his part, Quinn empathized with them more than he’d have liked. He still hadn’t gotten his revenge on Havedok, and it frustrated him that he’d probably never be able to get the panther to pay for what he had done.
Roarke’s voice snapped him out of his musings. “Quinn? Baby, are you okay?”
Quinn blinked, realizing for the first time that his mates had been speaking to him while he’d been lost in thought. “Fine,” he replied. “What were you saying?”
G’aladon arched a brow. “We asked your opinion on what we should do. You’ve been very quiet since we arrived here.”
Quinn didn’t really want to express his opinion, mostly because it would bias his mates and maybe push them into a decision that might not be the correct one. But he knew better than to think he could hide from G’aladon and Roarke. They understood how his mind worked and could see into his heart as if it were an open book.
The truth was that he enjoyed being here, as the strong wards around the club kept the energies from the outside world from scratching at his senses. Especially since the night they’d spent at Stonehenge, he had found his powers increasing, and he had trouble controlling them in certain areas. With G’aladon’s aid, he was learning more about himself and how to use his mental powers, but it would be a while until he fully got the hang of it.
The Mates Who Gave Him Salvation [Feral 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) Page 11
