Hyacinth, Scarlet - Craving Owen [Tides of Love 2] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever ManLove)

by Hyacinth, Scarlet

  Yane gaped at his friend and second-in-command. “A message from the wyrms? You can’t be serious. They shouldn’t be able to get close enough.”

  “Of course, we can’t be certain it is from them yet,” Lyole answered. “It might be just a joke.”

  Judging by Lyole’s expression, the man knew better than to think anyone would have such a poor sense of humor. Yane extended his hand wordlessly and Lyole gave him a piece of parchment. It was leathery, the kind only water creatures used to write on.

  His heart thundering, Yane unwrapped the parchment. In cursive letters, the message said,

  My esteemed enemy,

  As you undoubtedly realize, there are things about my people you don’t grasp. Your borders are in danger. As it happens, I have certain interests that make this inconvenient for me. Meet me tomorrow at midnight, north of Tanarak. You needn’t come without guards if you don’t wish to do so, but don’t assume that you will capture me. And bring the human with you. This concerns him, too. It is very important that you do so. In fact, don’t bother coming if you don’t bring him along.

  Regards,

  S.

  Yane gaped, fury and shock coursing through him. Who was this S and what did he or she want? More importantly, what business did S have with Owen?

  “What does it say?” Has’hendral asked.

  Yane pushed back his irritation with the other man. He would have to be jealous over Has’hendral a different time. Perhaps he could use the dragon’s presence in this problem. “Come along,” he told Has’hendral and Alcharr. “You too, Lyole. We need to discuss in private.”

  The men looked puzzled but didn’t comment. Yane led them to the small house he used as a residence. It was quite luxurious in comparison to the barracks his men inhabited, but truthfully, it was just a hovel he kept his supplies and bedding in. His family didn’t bother sending him adornments and such here. Besides, funds were better used for weaponry and medicine, not for his luxury.

  Still, Yane did feel a bit self-conscious. He knew his visitors—except Lyole, who didn’t count as one—were probably used to more luxurious settings. For that reason, Yane rarely, if ever, allowed Alcharr to come here, preferring to meet in the wild.

  Yane gestured the other men to sit on the available chairs. As everyone gave him questioning looks, he reread the message, causing shocked looks all around.

  “No,” Alcharr said. “You’re not going. It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

  “His Lordship is right,” Lyole agreed. “It must be a trap.”

  Has’hendral looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. This wyrm might be right.”

  Yane gaped at the dragon and waited for Has’hendral to elaborate. Seconds later, the other man added, “I think the enchantment on the plague lands is fading. I could feel it when I was coming your way. It might be the reason why the wyrm managed to get so close.”

  Yane felt sick. If the enchantment fell, the wyrms would be able to band on them. The nymphs didn’t have the strength to keep them at bay if this happened. His legs threatened to give way at the nightmarish images that appeared in his mind, but somehow, he managed to keep his calm. He was a leader. He couldn’t afford to have a mental breakdown. “We have to get to the bottom of this,” he told his companions.

  “Still, why does this person want the human to come along?” Has’hendral inquired. “Isn’t that the most puzzling request of all?”

  Yane nodded. The only business a wyrm could have with a human would entail the latter being eaten. Surely, the mysterious S must know Yane would never surrender anyone to be wyrm dinner.

  “Perhaps we should ask him,” Lyole suggested. “The human might know something.”

  Yane’s hackles rose. “What could Owen possibly now about a wyrm? No, it must be that the beast has some sort of unnatural fixation with him.”

  He sounded far too vehement, and Has’hendral seemed to notice it. “So what are you going to do?” he asked with a smirk. “Will you refuse? Ignore the request?”

  Yane hated himself for noticing how gorgeous Has’hendral looked when he grinned like that. A distant part of him didn’t blame Alcharr for whatever had been between the two. He didn’t think Alcharr had cheated on him. He knew better. But the flirty banter Has’hendral exuded, even when he talked to Yane, was irresistible.

  Yane pushed aside the traitorous thoughts. He needed to focus on Owen and the wyrm’s request. He could not refuse, that much seemed clear. His duty was to investigate. It might be a trap like Lyole said, but they could also get valuable information. If Has’hendral was indeed correct and the enchantment had started to fade, he could not lose the chance to find out the reason.

  “No,” he replied. “We have to agree. I’ll discuss it with Owen first, though, and see if he’s up to it. He was just attacked by a wyrm, and I have no wish to torture him.”

  There were nods all around, even from Alcharr, who, through his education and heritage, didn’t like humans much.

  Finally, they agreed that Alcharr and Has’hendral would come with Yane. Alcharr might know more about Connor and the information regarding the other human could help Owen get over the shock. In the meantime, Lyole returned to his duties of organizing the watch in the town.

  With a heavy heart, Yane led his two companions to the clinic. Hannah wasn’t in the main room, so Yane surmised she must be caring for Owen. Indeed, Yane found Hannah in the human’s chamber, chatting to the man about nothing in particular. It was quite obvious Owen didn’t understand a word, but a sense of camaraderie appeared to exist between them nonetheless.

  Hannah greeted them with a curtsy, to which Yane smiled. “How is he doing?” he asked.

  “Fine, fine,” she answered. “He’s recovered even faster than I expected. It’s almost unusual.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Yane answered, ignoring her last comment. For the first time since coming inside the room, he had the courage to really look at Owen. His breath caught as his eyes met the human’s. Gods, Owen was beautiful. Even with the man he loved in the room, Yane still wanted him. Fuck. This was bad news. Very, very bad news.

  “Thank you, Hannah,” he told the woman. “You can go.”

  As she left, he directed his attention to Owen. “Hi, Owen,” he said in English, struggling to control his voice. “I’d like you to meet someone. These two men are Has’hendral and Alcharr. They know your friend.”

  Owen beamed at them, his eyes sparkling a blue so vivid that Yane nearly died. “You’ve seen Connor?” he asked. “Tell me, how is he?”

  Yane waited as his two companions advanced to the human’s side. To his surprise, he noticed Alcharr was acting somewhat strangely. He didn’t know Has’hendral well enough to tell, but he could have sworn the dragon seemed tense as well.

  It could have very well been the recollection of why they were here, which became even more real now that they stood in front of Owen. Yane’s stomach turned at the thought of handing Owen over to a wyrm, or even forcing the human to meet one. But he didn’t think he’d have much choice, and judging by Alcharr’s and Has’hendral’s stances, they agreed with him.

  Alcharr, however, showed a measure of tact and started a conversation about Connor. He spoke of his meeting with the other human, of how Connor had rescued Valderr, while Has’hendral mentioned Connor mated his half brother. As they spoke, Owen looked more and more shocked. When Alcharr mentioned the other four men who looked after Connor, Owen seemed torn between fear and disbelief.

  “Wow,” he finally said. “This is surreal. Connor was never into multiple partners before. I hope he’s okay.”

  Has’hendral chuckled. “He’s fine. Chek is very protective of him, and so are the others. I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”

  Silence stretched between them for a while, and Yane took the opportunity to introduce the subject that concerned him. “Owen, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

  Owen arched a brow. “Oh?”

 
“We received a message from a wyrm claiming that our borders are in danger. I haven’t mentioned this before, but my country is under an enchantment that keeps shape-shifters from changing to their second form. As such, wyrms rarely approach Tanarak and never without a good reason. But it seems this enchantment is fading now. The sender of this message said he wanted to see you in exchange for his cooperation and for telling us the reason behind the problem.”

  “Do you have any clue as to what a wyrm would want with you?” Alcharr asked.

  For a few seconds, Owen didn’t speak. Yane would have thought the silence to be a sign of shock, but something told him different. Perhaps it was the way Owen didn’t quite meet his gaze, or perhaps the memory of Owen’s inquiry if all wyrms were bad. Owen did indeed know something. But what?

  To his surprise, it was Has’hendral who broke the silence. “Tell us, Owen. Tell us about the wyrm who came to visit you.”

  Owen’s eyes widened and he paled visibly. “W–What?” he stammered. “I…No. It’s not like that.”

  Yane couldn’t suppress his shock. “A wyrm was here? When? How?”

  “Recently,” Has’hendral replied. “I can still smell lingering traces of his scent, and judging by it, my best bet is that it’s the same wyrm who wrote the message. Now, Owen…tell us.”

  Hash was furious. No, beyond furious. He felt confused, angry, and scared. When he’d come here, he’d never expected to find his mate, let alone a human one who seemed to be courted by a wyrm.

  But there could be no doubt about the situation. Owen Tomassen was his mate, and a wyrm had been in here. He could smell the other man on Owen. They hadn’t done anything sexual, but the wyrm had touched Owen. It made Hash want to roar and snarl, maybe rub himself against Owen to cast away any lingering traces of the wyrm. But he barely knew Owen, and his primal behavior would just scare the human. So he forced himself to show a calm he did not feel and insisted for Owen to speak.

  At first, the human seemed reluctant. Whatever the wyrm had done must have gotten to him. Hash couldn’t scent fear on Owen, but he did smell a healthy dose of apprehension and uncertainty.

  “He didn’t mean me any harm,” Owen finally said. “He just came to see if I was okay.”

  “Okay?” Yane repeated in disbelief. “You could have died. I don’t believe the state you were in qualifies as okay.”

  Owen’s lower lip trembled as if he were struggling against anger or tears. “He’s not a bad person,” he shot back. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  On impulse, Hash reached out to his mate and took Owen’s hand. The human looked surprised but didn’t break away. “It’s not that we don’t believe you, Owen,” Hash said. “But wyrms aren’t known to be exactly trustworthy. We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Sassaki wouldn’t hurt me,” Owen replied, certainty and frustration in his voice. He looked like he would pull away from Hash any minute now, but much to Hash’s relief, he didn’t.

  At the same time, Hash was startled at the first mentioning of the wyrm’s name. Clearly, the other shape-shifter had been busy and made Owen trust him. Hash couldn’t do anything about that now. He had a strong suspicion he understood the reasons behind this Sassaki’s behavior. Any other time, he’d have called this thought insane, but after seeing his brother’s mate have four more lovers, he knew anything was possible.

  “All right.” He caressed Owen’s wrist. “We’ll go meet your wyrm and see what he has to say. Perhaps he’s not so bad.”

  He sensed the twin looks of disbelief the other men gave him, but ignored them. The gratitude Owen showered him with felt almost palpable, and Hash nearly melted right then and there.

  Alcharr cleared his throat, sounding irritated. “At any rate, this doesn’t make the situation any less dangerous. Even if your wyrm doesn’t have any baleful intentions, he could be followed by others.”

  Owen’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, no. His people will never agree with him meeting up with you. This is bad, very bad.”

  Owen pushed away the covers, as if intending to jump out of bed and go to the famous Sassaki’s rescue. Hash wrapped Owen in his arms, holding him tight. If Owen’s scent had drawn him before, now that his mate was so close, Hash wanted to roar and sink his fangs in Owen’s exposed throat. Instead, he caressed Owen’s tense back, suppressing a sigh of relief when the anxiety gradually began to drain out of Owen. “Calm down, Owen. Sassaki can take care of himself, otherwise he would have never contacted us.”

  “I guess,” Owen said hesitantly. “I just don’t understand any of this. I’m very confused.”

  Alcharr chose this exact moment to intervene. “Completely understandable,” he answered. “But don’t worry. It’ll all make sense in the end.”

  Hash didn’t know what to believe about those words, but neither did he allow himself to dissect them too much. This annoying trip had suddenly become so much more. The plague lands hid too many secrets, and Alcharr, Yane, and Owen were in the middle of it all. Hash had a feeling that by the end, they would all need to stick together if they wanted to make it out of this alive.

  Night had finally fallen. After several hours of debates, the group stuck to the original decision and decided to see what the wyrm wanted to say. Together, they snuck out of Tanarak, careful to avoid the nymph guards.

  As they walked, Alcharr stole a look toward Yane. The nymph seemed tense all day, and Alcharr supposed he had every reason in the world. After all, they were going to see a wyrm who, for whatever reason, set his sights on Owen. But there was more to it than that, and Alcharr suspected the reason could lie simply in Owen’s presence, and perhaps, even in Hash’s arrival.

  Alcharr knew Yane well, and he could tell when Yane felt attracted to somebody and wanted to hide it. It was just like it happened with them, years back, when Yane first became engaged with Valderr without even meeting him. Alcharr had gone in his brother’s stead to make arrangements for the wedding. Yane had been so cool and arrogant it almost hurt to remember. Later, Alcharr took great pleasure in fucking that chill out of him.

  “Whatever happens, you stick close to us,” Yane told the human, his voice all business. “I know you trust the wyrm…”

  “Sassaki,” Owen corrected. In the past day, Alcharr noticed that it troubled Owen exceedingly whenever either of them referred to Sassaki in a derogatory manner.

  Yane took a deep breath. “I know you trust Sassaki,” he said again, stressing the name, “but you’re very new here and you don’t realize how things work yet.”

  Owen didn’t answer, and Alcharr realized the human was quite upset about the comment. Indeed, it sounded bad, and Alcharr wanted to scold Yane for his brusqueness.

  He himself didn’t know what to believe about any of this. Seeing someone else get close to Yane should bother him. But the human… The human was strange. He seemed so affectionate, and at the same time so very lost, that Alcharr couldn’t blame him for clinging to the first person he’d met here. And now, Yane was acting so cold that Owen seemed hurt.

  Unfortunately, Owen would not be able to deal with Yane’s barriers like Alcharr had. As such, it would be up to Alcharr to fix this from becoming a real problem. If he wanted to be honest, it would be no hardship to befriend the human. Something about Owen made Alcharr wonder if his skin was as soft as it seemed and his lips tasted as good as they looked. But he reined in his lust and focused on the matter at hand. He loved Yane, for crying out loud, and he had enough trouble with his attraction toward Hash to think about the human, too.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t at least offer Owen a helping hand. Even if his education spoke poorly of humans, judging individual people after such standards would be stupid. Besides, Alcharr might doubt Connor Spade’s ability to aid Valderr, but the friendship between the two remained genuine—something Alcharr appreciated a lot.

  He started walking slower, allowing Owen to catch up to him. “Hey, Owen,” he said. “Yane didn’t mean anything by that. He’s
just worried about you. You received a serious injury in an attack, and now, you’re supposed the meet a wyrm. Even if this Sassaki didn’t hurt you, it’s still cause for concern.”

  Owen looked startled, as if it hadn’t occurred to him. “A serious injury?” he repeated. “I didn’t consider it so bad. I mean, it was scary then, but I’m all better now.”

  “That might be true, but it’s still something to think about. Besides, you have to remember Yane has been fighting these people all his life. It’s not in his nature to like them.”

  Owen visibly deflated. “You’re right. I guess I should apologize.” He looked away and clenched his hands into fists. “I just don’t want anyone to fight. I can tell Yane and Sassaki are both good men. And…I hate fighting.”

  The tone in which Owen spoke made Alcharr think there was a story there. Someone had hurt this young man. Alcharr viciously squashed the desire to inquire into the identity of this someone and go teach him—because it must’ve been a him—a lesson. It was part of Owen’s past now, and something Alcharr couldn’t change, as much as he wanted to.

  He could, however, change the here and now. On impulse, he wrapped his arm around Owen’s shoulder. He kept the touch as friendly as possible without going into lustful, even if his muscles strained to pull the other man close. “Then we won’t fight.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Yane said from in front of them in the dryad language. “You know how wyrms are. He must have just been playing with Owen.”

  Hash didn’t say anything, but his stance seemed tense. To Alcharr, it almost looked like the other man knew something they didn’t. But Hash didn’t comment, and Alcharr eventually answered in his stead. “Wyrms are what they are. But he did reach out first. We need to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Neither Hash nor Yane looked too excited about the idea, not that Alcharr himself felt very optimistic. But someone had to keep this from becoming a disaster, and it seemed it would have to be him.