AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Godric swiftly exits, closing the door behind him. Fiala is staring at a spot over my head with a resigned expression.
Dusan begins to mutter, “Uh,Ma’len, well, you see…”
Fury burns through me. I lunge forward, grasp a fistful of his uniform, and drag him toward me. The wingrunner’s eyes open wide with terror, and his toes nearly leave the ground as I seethe into his face, “You said these things to my mate? You disobeyed orders from your king?”
Isavelle rushes forward and grabs my elbow, trying to tug it down but not succeeding. “Wait, please. Dusan was talking about something that’s common knowledge to him. Common knowledge to Fiala. Common knowledge toyou. But do I know what you’re all talking about? No, and yet apparently, it’s about me.”
I keep my attention fixed on the man in my grip. “Did you disobey a direct order from your king?”
“Y-yes,Ma’len.”
I wait to see if he’s going to gabble some excuse or another, but at least he has the sense not to try my temper even further.
“Report to Captain Ashton and await my punishment. You are not to leave the castle grounds.” I put Dusan down, and snarl at Fiala, “You either. Both of you get out of my sight.”
The wingrunners hurry out of the room, and I whirl away toward the terrace, breathing hard with my fists clenched at my sides. I was very fucking specific about what Isavelle’s bodyguards were to discuss with her. They were meant to make her feel at home and safe, not fill her head with things she’s not ready for. My poor girl is having difficulties confronting simple things like her slick, and they went and told her about the most intimate part of mating. Betas have no right to even gossip about it because it has nothing to do with them. My dragines ache in frustration, and my knot throbs just thinking about it. Inside my mouth, my tongue brushes across a pointed tooth, trying to ease the pain.
Isavelle has come to my side and asks softly, “Zabriel? Why are you so angry about this?”
“Because it’s my duty to teach you about this, not them,” I roar, and Isavelle flinches.
I pass a hand across my brow. Fuck it all to hell. I’m making things worse. “I’m sorry. Not for what I said to your bodyguards, but for shouting just now and not explaining things to you.” I turn and put my hands on her shoulders. “I want to tell you about these things. They’re for us. Only for us.”
I’ve been trying so hard to tamp down that primal instinct to haul Isavelle over my shoulder, pin her to my bed, and snarl in her face to obey her Alpha without question. It’s always there, hungry and pacing andwantingher, naked and obedient and wet. The unreasonable part of me is always pointing out that she should be falling at my feet with gratitude that her Alpha is the Flame King, and if I had an Omega from my own time, then she probably would be doing that. I dream about the moment Isavelle will wrap her arms around my neck and whisper,Show me what it means for you to be my Alpha.
“All right,” she says slowly. “Your, um, teeth. They’re very pointy. Why?”
I put my hand to her neck and stroke my thumb down her throat. My knot throbs in response as I think of the moment I’ll sink my teeth into her mating gland and mark her as mine forever. “It’s so, um…”
To my astonishment, I feel my face burn. I imagine these things so often but putting them into words for my mate is daunting, and I suddenly realize why I haven’t talked about these things with Isavelle. The Temple Crone would laugh if she could see the Flame King now, tongue-tied before his sweet and innocent mate.
Isavelle reaches up and touches my cheek. “You’re shy about this too,” she whispers.
I nod and cover her hand with my own. “This is important to me. To us. I don’t want to get anything wrong and make things worse between us.”
Anguish flashes through Isavelle’s eyes. “I wish you didn’t feel like—”
I press a finger to her lips. “Hush. Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. I’ve been wishing there were another Omega you could talk to, but I’ve just remembered someone else who might be useful to us.”
“Oh? Who?”
I turn around and beckon Isavelle to follow me. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”
I rely on Isavelle’s natural curiosity, and a moment later, I hear her following me. I lead her through the castle until we reach a massive open doorway made from carved black stone.
“This is the Flame Temple. TheHratha’lenrun the temple and they’re the closest thing the Maledinni have to a religious order, but I promise that they’re nothing like the Brethren. I was reluctant to introduce you to them given your hardships, but they’re the best people I can think of for you to speak openly with. I would have wished my mother or someone like her to help you, but you’re the only Omega in Maledin.”
Isavelle glances into the Flame Temple. The burning flame. The open sky. The women in bright red dresses who are working in little alcoves or meditating. “It doesn’t look anything like the gloomy monasteries I’m used to,” she says slowly.
“It’s not. You will be welcomed here, not beaten. You can leave whenever you like, and no one is going to force you to pray. Besides, we don’t pray. We meditate.”
Isavelle’s expression lightens even more.
As if she’s realized why I’ve brought my mate here, the Temple Crone has moved to the middle of the temple and is standing with her hands folded before her.
“The Temple Crone is waiting for you,” I tell Isavelle softly.
My mate takes a hesitant step across the threshold.
