Stesha is twenty-seven now, and he’s growing more alluring every day. I feel warm just hearing the pitch of his deep voice. Witnessing the fury of his combat when he spars with the other Alphas. I admire the lines that form on his brow when he’s helping an injured dragon, and I enjoy how his arms settle comfortably around me when he takes me flying on Nilak. I adore the way he stretches out on the settle in our living room with his long legs propped up and his shirt half undone. The intimate, quiet time we spend at home, just the two of us, is my favorite. He relaxes, and we discuss the goings on in Lenhale, which usually relates to dragons.
Sometimes he gets female attention, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Later I mention the names of the women I’ve seen following him around or trying to talk to him. More often thannot, he gives me a puzzled frown, and asks, “Who?” and I have to hide my smile of satisfaction. Of course Stesha couldn’t hurt me or make me jealous by giving affection to another woman. He’s too lovely to make me feel anything but wonderful. After all these years, he still scents a blanket for me and leaves it under my pillow because it helps me sleep.
One evening I get into bed and fish the blanket out, and the fragrance is not only stronger than usual, but richer too. I moan softly because Stesha’s scent has sent a wave of pure pleasure through me. I feel like I’ve drunk too much ale in the Great Hall, and my body heats up all over. I tumble headlong into sleep, which is filled with dreams of hard muscles, long white hair, and sharp teeth in my flesh.
In the morning, I can’t make myself let go of the blanket as I get out of bed. It’s crumpled in my arms, and my face is buried in the fabric, which trails between my feet as I walk into the living room.
Stesha is pacing up and down, and his scent is pungent. The same scent that I’ve been saturated in all night.
As soon as he sees me, he says, “I wanted to wait until you were up before leaving so I could say goodbye. I’ll be gone for several days.”
I feel dazed from the scent coming off the blanket and off him. “Mm? Hmmf.”
“Zen?” He stares at me. Then he notices the blanket. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was going into a rut last night. Give me that.”
He holds out his hand to take the blanket from me, but I shake my head. “Want to keep it,” I mumble into the fabric.
“Come on, you don’t want that.”
But I do want this blanket. I never want to let it go.
He sighs and grinds the heel of his hand between his eyes. “Gods, my head feels like it’s about to explode. I guess keep it ifyou really want it. Will you check on the hatchlings in the nesting caves for me? I’ll be back in a few days.”
Since I’ve been living with him, Stesha has been vanishing for several days at a time every month or so, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know why. He leaves because of his ruts. But why does he feel like he has to leave?
I reach out and grasp his hand. “Just stay. This is your home.”
He sighs heavily. “I wish I could.”
“Where do you go?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I must look sad, because despite how uncomfortable and irritable he feels, he cups my cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
His skin feels burning hot, and I angle my cheek into his palm. His hands are large, and it feels blissful being cradled by him. I grasp his fingers as he pulls away. His wrist is covered with what look like bitemarks. “What are those marks?”
Stesha hesitates and then pulls his sleeve down. “It doesn’t matter.”
I have a vague idea those bites have something to do with his rut. The dragines in his mouth, which all Alphas have. Mother’s warning that Alphas can be demanding comes back to me. “Stesha, how does mating with an Alpha work?”
He makes a choking noise. “Didn’t your mother…? Uh, well, you should speak to theHratha’len. I know nothing about women, truly.” He says this backing away, and as soon as he reaches the door, he’s striding down the corridor on long legs.
I frown after him. What does he mean, he knows nothing about women? He’s a grown man. Besides, I’m a woman, and I thought he knew me well.
I trail into Stesha’s bedroom, needing more than the comfort of a blanket today. I get into his bed and draw the blankets up over my head. I’m enveloped in darkness, Stesha’s rutting scent,and the residual heat from his body. I moan, stretch, and then curl into a ball in the cozy, fragrant darkness. I stay there for hours, drifting on bliss.
Eventually, my rumbling belly and thirst drives me from his bed, but I’m hungry for answers just as much as I need sustenance.
Stesha knows nothing about women? Nothing in what sense? I go in search of the only other Alpha I’m close to, and I find him in the Great Hall.
“Do you know anything about women?” I ask the crown prince.
Zabriel’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He’s drinking a cup of ale, and he lowers it and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. Looking everywhere but at me, he says, “I know that… I mean, women are… What are you asking me, Zenevieve?”
“I only know dragonriders, and a few of the City Guard. I’ve noticed that some of us are always, you know, kissing and flirting. I just wondered about the ones who are not, like you. And me. And…and the dragonmaster. And why that is.”
Zabriel rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward. “Well, speaking for myself, and I can only speak for myself, it’s because I’m waiting for my mate.”
“Who is she?” I ask curiously, stepping closer.
