“The Ancient Horror?” Monroe repeated in disbelief. “You mean the first black dragon, the one who nearly killed off his own species?”
Taryn nodded. “Yes. That one. Right now, he seems to have another target. For the moment, he’s feeding off the energy of the vampires, but the draechen believe he’ll take a permanent host soon. He’s looking for a child to use for that purpose.”
Monroe’s gaze went to Taryn’s belly. “He won’t get yours,” he said fiercely. “I’ll die before I allow that to happen.”
Taryn couldn’t help it. His eyes filled with tears as his brother’s words registered in his heart and mind. Monroe’s loyalty toward him was humbling and so very comforting.
Monroe hugged him close, caressing his hair and whispering warm words in Taryn’s ear. “It’s okay, little brother. I have you. I won’t let anyone hurt you or my nephew.”
“Not even if the pack is at risk?” Taryn inquired, unable to keep his anxiety from his voice.
“I’d leave the pack before I left you,” Monroe answered without missing a beat. “I’m an Alpha, yes, but I’m your brother first.”
Taryn couldn’t find an answer to that. What could he possibly say that would convey his gratitude to his sibling? He just held onto Monroe, reveling into his brother’s familiar scent and affectionate strength.
He wished that Monroe would be able to find a mate, too. He certainly deserved it, to have the same love Taryn experienced. Because in spite of all the differences between Taryn and Hareem, Taryn was still desperately in love with his mate and blessed the day they’d met.
“You’re too good to me,” Hareem whispered in his mind. “You can’t imagine how much I want to come to you right now and just hold you in my arms. I’m jealous of your brother.”
A small chuckle escaped Taryn. It wasn’t really funny, because Hareem was being perfectly honest with him. Taryn would never be able to find mirth in the situation, not when his own wolf wanted to curl away and hide from the pain of the separation. Even so, the fact that their bond remained as strong as ever comforted him and Hareem’s possessiveness made him smile.
Monroe broke the hug and shot him a confused look. “Do I want to know what’s so funny?”
Taryn shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just something Hareem said.”
Monroe nodded, not pursuing the thread of conversation further. It still awed Taryn to see how openly his brother had accepted his mate bond with Hareem. Truth be told, Taryn suspected Monroe still had some doubts, but he’d refrained from emphasizing them, which meant the world to Taryn.
“Your brother is a good man,” Hareem said through their bond. “I already owe him a great deal, and I expect that debt is going to keep piling up.” He paused, then changed the topic. “Perhaps you might want to mention to him the fact that we have a fae prisoner here. His name is Raul Gomez. I believe your elf friend knows him well.”
The non sequitur kind of took Taryn by surprise, but only a little. He’d sensed the chemistry between Jude and Monroe, too. Besides, Taryn owed Jude a great deal. If Hareem was right and Jude was close to Prince Rachen’s shooter, the elf would want to know what had happened to him.
They weren’t that far from New York now, and anyway, Taryn suspected his brother would jump at the chance to see Jude again. “Oh, one more thing. Jude’s friend, Raul Gomez, was taken into custody by the draechen for taking part in the attack on me. He was apparently the man who shot Hareem’s brother, Rachen. Hareem thinks you should let Jude know.”
Monroe’s eyes flashed with something Taryn clearly recognized as arousal, before his expression sobered. “What will happen to him? Will the draechen kill him?”
Taryn hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. His mate is apparently the vampire king, and they’re likely going for a cooperative process for the purpose of defeating the Ancient Horror.”
He’d have liked to say more, but he wasn’t sure how much he could reveal without breaking Hareem’s confidence. Thankfully, Monroe seemed to understand. “I appreciate the information,” he said. “I’ll go notify him now.”
He brushed a kiss over Taryn’s forehead, then stalked away. Taryn watched him go with a smile. Technically speaking, Monroe had no need to go himself, but he’d obviously taken a liking to Jude. Perhaps under different circumstances, Monroe would have approached Jude and taken their relationship further.
Taryn’s joy was replaced by sadness as he realized that, even if Monroe and Jude did have a fated link, it would be impossible for them to pursue it. It was partially Taryn’s fault for it, too, as much as he hated to admit it.
As his brother gathered a few other wolves and left, Taryn remained alone in the shade of the tree. The strangest thing was that he couldn’t bring himself to feel too guilty about it. In the end, even if he loved his brother, it was his baby who needed him most now.
He lay there for the longest time, deep in thought and monitoring his mate through their bond. His lover liked having their consciousnesses entwined like this, especially when they were apart, and Taryn knew that it helped Hareem’s dragon a lot.
Taryn didn’t know how much time passed while he waited for his brother to return. At one point, he turned into his wolf form again and curled against the base of the tree, dozing off. He was startled from his slumber when a female werewolf approached him. Taryn didn’t pay her much heed, but his instincts were always on high alert.
Fortunately, she didn’t come too close. However, as she passed him by, she threw a poisonous glance his way. “Draechen whore,” she mumbled.
She didn’t say more, but it wasn’t necessary. Her feelings regarding him had been made more than clear. Taryn couldn’t say her words wounded him, but, in that moment, he did understand that he was no longer truly one of the pack. There was no going back to how they’d been before, and for every wolf who supported him, one would reject him.
It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t care about what they said. He was happy about the gift Hareem had given him, the child growing inside him. If the pack was against it, well, they’d have to deal. This was his path now, and he’d walk it, head held high and happiness in his heart.
* * * *
“Raul? A spy?”
Jude couldn’t believe his ears. He just stared at the werewolf in front of him, shocked and feeling betrayed. “That can’t be right. Why are you saying this?”
Monroe released a heavy sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. Jude had the urge to lick his rippling muscles, but he quickly suppressed it. This conversation was more important than his libido and his lust for a stranger. Jude couldn’t allow this primal desire to fuck up his priorities.
Okay, maybe Jude realized that this wasn’t just a random werewolf who had accidentally walked into his life and would just as easily walk out. Nevertheless, he couldn’t just accept the wolf’s words without question. Raul had been his friend for years. To Jude’s knowledge, he’d always remained faithful to Ivenia. This had to be some sort of confusion.
“I’m sorry,” Monroe said, as if reading his mind, “but it’s true. Raul Gomez was captured by the draechen after participating in the attack on Taryn. I admit I don’t know many details, just bits and pieces from what Taryn told me. I have no reason to believe that he would lie.”
“No, he wouldn’t. And neither would you.”
For the first time since arriving here, Monroe actually smiled. The sight made Jude’s knees weak and his heart melt. “Thank you for trusting me,” Monroe rumbled. “I know you don’t actually have a reason to do so…at least, not a very strong one.”
Jude arched a brow. “I beg to differ.”
From the moment Monroe had stepped into this house, Jude had known there was something special about the werewolf. Seeing the delicious expanse of Monroe’s strong and muscular body had made Jude harder than he could even remember being. The way his black hair curled over his nape wildly screamed of the untamed nature of his beast, but when their gazes had me
t, Jude had seen more than just a wolf. Jude had seen strength, decision, affection, and grief in Monroe’s green-gold eyes, honest emotions that reached out to Jude’s soul. But there had also been lust, wild and hot like a forest fire, and so intense it had stopped Jude’s breath. He’d known that this man was his other half.
Under different circumstances, he’d have rejoiced. It was very rare these days for an elf to find his destined mate. More often than not, his people gave up on the entire idea, choosing pleasant and comfortable relationships to the never-ending, nearly hopeless wait and search. Once, it had been much easier, but no longer. When Jude had left his home, he’d given up any possible chance of ever finding his fated mate. But then, it had never occurred to him that his other half could be a werewolf.
In the end, he understood what Monroe meant. They might have been mates, but they were still strangers. Acknowledging that with a sigh, Jude directed Monroe to sit on the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Tell me everything you know about Raul.”
Monroe complied. He made no attempt to shield his nudity from sight, though, which naturally distracted Jude a lot. He reminded himself that Monroe hadn’t come here for a fun romp, but to discuss a serious matter.
“The situation appears to be very dire,” Monroe said. “Your friend has been identified as the man who shot Prince Rachen Tersain.”
Jude shook his head, still unable to believe it. “I just… This can’t be right. Raul would never do something like that.”
Monroe’s expression darkened. “Well, it’s true. But don’t worry. He should be all right. He’s with his mate, the vampire king.”
Jude easily noted how Monroe stressed the word mate. Something stirred in his heart, and much to his dismay, he realized it had very little to do with Raul. Monroe’s eyes glowed with that same fire that burned inside Jude, and he found himself having trouble processing what Monroe had said. Nothing seemed to matter beyond the reality that Jude and Monroe shared.
“Mate,” he repeated.
Monroe froze. For a few moments, they just sat there, staring at each other. And then, Monroe gripped Jude’s chin. He inhaled deeply, rubbed his thumb over Jude’s lower lip.
“I can’t stay,” he said. “You know that I can’t.”
“And I can’t go with you.” Jude parted his lips and sucked Monroe’s digit into his mouth.
The werewolf groaned as Jude fellated his finger, never looking away from Monroe’s face. He could easily imagine doing the same to Monroe’s dick. It wasn’t very difficult, given that, from his angle, he had a clear sight of Monroe’s hard cock—a quite impressive one to say the least. Before he could stop himself, Jude reached for the werewolf’s prick. The shifter released another growl, and it swept over Jude like a physical caress.
At the same time, though, Jude realized exactly what he was doing. As much as he wanted to touch Monroe, this wasn’t the right time. “I can’t go,” he repeated, snapping out of his trance. It was unfortunate, but there was no place for an elf in a wolf pack.
Monroe grimaced. When he pulled away, he did so carefully, but he didn’t seem to blame Jude in any way. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I have no right to be jealous. I just can’t help it.”
“I know,” Jude replied. He paused, remembering Monroe’s reaction at Jude’s refusal to accept Raul’s situation. “You know, there was never anything between Raul and me. We’re just friends. It’s been the two of us here in New York for years. I just can’t fathom that he’s been lying to me all this time.”
The werewolf’s gaze turned gentle. “It might not have been about you at all, Jude. People do strange things when they find their mates. After all, look at my brother.” He brushed a featherlight kiss over Jude’s forehead, then his eyelids and his nose. “Look at me.”
Jude did, and he was lost. Whatever else he might have wanted to say melted in the heat of Monroe’s green-gold eyes. Jude pressed his mouth to that of the werewolf, and together, they lost themselves in the abyss of their passion.
* * * *
Kael stalked through the corridors, every atom in his being focused on one single thing. He had to get to his quarters, had to see for himself that his mate was all right. He needed to touch Talrasar and make sure that their unborn baby was unharmed.
“We’re fine, Kael,” Talrasar said through their bond. “Stop panicking. You’re scaring the people.”
It was true. Various draechen moved out of his way, bowing and murmuring frightened greetings. But Kael didn’t care about them. Karein’s words kept echoing in his ears, and the only thing he knew was that his family was in terrible danger.
“Not here in Draechenburg, we’re not,” Talrasar argued. “Just breathe, Kael. I really don’t think the situation is as bad as it seems.”
“How can you say that, love? We’re talking about the Ancient Horror.”
Even in present times, the first black dragon was widely viewed as a terrible force. However, few people truly remembered the extent of the devastation the Ancient Horror had unleashed. Kael had lived through the outcome of what his ancestor had done. In his days, draechen had been so few that, for a long while, it had seemed inevitable that they would die out.
While intellectually, younger draechen might be aware of it, they didn’t have Kael’s perspective on the situation. Talrasar did, and as always, he understood what Kael meant.
“I know, Kael,” he said. “But think about it this way. If he’d been so incredibly powerful, he’d have marched in here and taken Ornoz by storm. Instead, he used subterfuge. Yes, he killed a lot of people in the process, but when he finally ran into a foe he couldn’t handle, he fled.”
Talrasar had a point, but that did very little to soothe Kael’s nerves. He was very relieved when he finally reached their quarters. The door opened, and Kael froze when he found his mate waiting for him.
“Come here, Kael,” Talrasar said, his eyes glittering with sexual promise. “I think I discovered something very interesting about being pregnant. I get horny at all the wrong times.”
Talrasar grabbed Kael’s hand and pulled him into the room. Hypnotized by his mate’s beauty, Kael followed. Very distantly, he remembered there was something else he should be doing, but arousal had already started to cloud his senses. His dragon was already anticipating the silken feel of Talrasar’s skin, the snug hold of his body, the taste of his kiss.
His lover closed the door and pushed Kael against him in a display of dominance that sent his blood boiling. “I don’t want you to worry,” Talrasar said out loud. “I know you can’t help it, but above all else, I need you to realize one thing. Our dream has finally come true. Don’t let fear spoil it.”
There were a million things Kael would have liked to say. A part of him screamed to remember what he’d found out just a few minutes ago. But then, his mate dropped to his knees in front of him and worked his pants open, and Kael forgot about anything that didn’t imply his Tali, a flat surface, and wet, slick heat.
* * * *
Meanwhile, somewhere near Calais, France
Onyerre Norrenddare sat alone in her room, browsing through her book without really comprehending any of the paragraphs. She scrolled down to another page and huffed in annoyance. The e-reader had been a gift from her eldest son, Darian, and while as a rule, she didn’t much like all this modern technology, she had used it, for his sake. It had certainly been convenient at times. Now, though, it just reminded her of the countless things she had lost.
It would have been easy to put the blame solely on Caelyn Sutharlainn and that blasted son of a whore, Sareltae. However, Onyerre knew in her heart that her exile was largely her own fault. No matter how angry she’d been with her husband, Selbrian remained her king and she owed him respect. He might have insulted their marriage through his infidelities, but that didn’t change the fact that they were royalty. Onyerre should have handled the matter far differently.
What had she gained now through the loss of her temper? She’d been r
emoved from her home, taken away from her children, and was wasting away here in this mansion. Sure, Darian, Misael, and Charlize visited her from time to time, but it was no secret that Selbrian was still very angry with her and that he had grown closer to Eanera.
Jenarra, how Onyerre hated that woman. Sure, Selbrian wasn’t her true mate, but without Eanera, they could have made things work.
“You still can,” came a voice from somewhere in the room.
Onyerre gasped, dropping the e-reader on the bed. She glanced around the room, seeking the source of the voice. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and in truth, no one should have been able to pass the guards. So who’d spoken to her? Was she hearing things?
“Who’s there?” she asked, wondering if she was losing her mind. As she spoke, she slid out of the bed, slowly moving toward the door. She had no real reason to feel apprehensive, but she couldn’t help but be afraid.
A darkened silhouette emerged from the shadows, and she froze. “You still can win back your husband, if you get rid of the pesky High Priestess.”
The voice held silky temptation, stirring the hatred that had been building inside Onyerre for years. Onyerre ignored it, knowing better than to allow some outsider to exploit her vulnerabilities.
“Guards!” she called out. “We have an intruder.”
The stranger chuckled. “They can’t hear you. I made sure our little conversation would be private.”
Onyerre took a deep breath and threw a shield around herself. Whatever had happened between her and Selbrian, she was still the Ivenian queen and therefore a target for possible assassinations. With growing instability in the paranormal community and Ivenia right in the center of the mess, it wasn’t exactly surprising that someone had taken advantage of the fact that, in her current position, Onyerre was exposed to attack.
However, if this assassin thought Onyerre would go down without a fight, he’d find himself surprised. Onyerre still had her three children to think of. More than anything, she wanted to live for them.
Emperor's Consort [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 5] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) Page 15
