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Chandler was a beautiful blond omega, who had just turned twenty-one, so I should have been thrilled at the prospect. He was spoiled and willful and used to having his own way—like many other omegas I’d been introduced to over the years—but he was good natured and sweet. I knew I could have done much worse.
My cousins really had never given up on me and had fixed me up with one omega after another, thinking that eventually, I’d find someone to get me out of my own head and get my mind and heart off Roxbury. Not that any of us ever mentioned his name, but it was always there in my head, and they knew me well enough to know that. Besides, Lex and Asher had strong magic and they probably were able to easily read my thoughts. Those thoughts were no doubt quite transparent when it came to Roxbury.
No matter how many times their efforts had been in vain, or worse yet, had turned into disasters, they’d never given up, even though I’d never shown any interest in the omegas they’d paraded in front of me in the past few years. Lust, yes. They were omegas, after all, and their pheromones always called to me. But once I got to know them even a little, my interest usually waned. Ultimately, I got away from all of them as quickly as I could.
Prince Chandler had been different though. He was persistent and determined—the gods knew why—maybe he thought he could do worse too and get some controlling asshole who might mistreat him. At any rate, he kept coming back for more, even in the face of my obvious though polite, disinterest. I didn’t mean to act that way. I never set out to be so dispassionate and even apathetic about my love life. I really didn’t. But I’d lost the only person I’d ever truly loved before I had a chance to even tell him how much I cared for him or even before I knew what love really was. And I hadn’t ever really been romantically interested in anyone else since Roxbury.
Yet, like it or not, I was the Earl of Bedford, and I owed it to my estate and my parents’ memory to provide an heir. Chandler was certainly pretty enough and a royal prince. What was I holding out for? Some undying love? Someone who made my heart beat faster every time he entered a room, or I happened to hear his voice? I’d had all that once and let it slip through my hands. Maybe I didn’t deserve that much happiness anymore.
When I first met Chandler, I was recovering from injuries I’d received at that bloody baron’s castle in Crillia. Wyatt, Asher and I had gone searching for a relative of Harrison’s wife—a wealthy viscountess. The poor woman had disappeared without a trace after accepting the baron’s marriage proposal and traveling to his home. According to the baron’s story anyway, though none of us believed a word of it. My pack brothers and I had gone there to solve the mystery. We’d only managed to get ourselves captured by the murderous baron after we found out that he killed the viscountess we were looking for. It had not been a successful journey to say the least. In fact, it had been an unmitigated disaster.
I had sustained a bad head injury on top of everything else, and the doctors were concerned that I had symptoms that were still plaguing me—like almost daily headaches and a weakness on my entire right side, making it necessary for me to use a cane. Harrison had brought in a healer, who said I was getting better, and he believed that eventually I would recover completely. But I’d been badly hurt, with my wounds mostly neglected for a couple of weeks afterward. Asher had used his magic, but the iron in the baron’s prison cells had blocked its full potency. Wyatt, after he joined us in our captivity, had done what he could for me too, but it would take time now for me to recover. Or so the healers said.
Medicine was not much of an art in our world, because most healers relied on their magic, which was fine for small hurts, but didn’t always do anything for the bigger issues, like cancer or some of the more dreadful diseases or the most serious accidents. I was beginning to be afraid my situation was one of those problematic injuries they couldn’t really help, and that I might never be back to my old self again.
It was then that I first met a Sudfarman priest called Kellman, who was reported to have a great deal of magic. He had supposedly effected many cures. Kellman was a tall, ascetic young man, who was fairly young and extremely arrogant. He could afford to be, as he was one of Queen Rozamond’s favorite priests.
On the day I met him, a knock came on my door as I was resting in the bedroom assigned to me in the palace. I went to the door to open it and found Kellman standing there, wearing his official black robes made of a rich silk, trimmed with mink. I noticed he had golden bracelets on his wrists and ruby earrings in each ear. His hair was black and flowed across his shoulders, and it gave him a slightly sinister appearance in my opinion.
“My lord,” he said, without even a suggestion of a bow, my queen sent me to examine you.”
“Did she? I was resting, but I suppose you can come in.”
I stepped back away from the door, and he strode past me. Arrogance fairly dripped off him, and I knew at once that he was an Alpha. The priesthood was not a usual profession for Alphas, so I found that fascinating. He smelled ever so slightly of some kind of sweet fruit. It wasn’t strong enough on him to figure out exactly what it was, but I wondered if he’d been with some omega recently. Priests were usually celibate, but it wasn’t any kind of law.
He turned to face me. “Would you mind taking off your clothes, so I can examine you, sir?”
“I would, actually. The problem is in my head. I was attacked by a group of soldiers and hit several times with the flats of their swords.”
“Which is causing a weakness to develop along one side of your body, I believe. I need to examine your extremities.”
I frowned at him, but I began to unbutton my shirt. “Very well. But let’s make this quick, please. I’ve been poked at by nearly every physician in this palace.”
He gave me a tight smile. “Not by me, sir. Your trousers too, please.”
I threw my shirt across a chair and then sat down on it to pull off my boots and remove my trousers. I stood back up in front of him. “How do you want me?”
His eyes flickered over my body, and I thought I saw a slightly lascivious gleam come into his eyes, which I ignored, just wanting this to be over with. He gestured toward the bed, and I stretched out on my back.
He bent over me solicitously, gently palpating the scar on my scalp and then moving to my arm to feel my muscles there and test their strength. They were embarrassingly weak.
He moved on down to my leg and paid attention to the thigh muscle and my knee. Moving down, he stroked my calf and even took my foot in his hand. When he finished, he straightened up and nodded at me to get dressed again.
When I was once more sitting on the chair with my boots back on, he turned toward me.
“I believe you’re healing, My Lord, but you must be patient a bit longer. I would suggest exercising the afflicted muscles in the leg with vigorous walks. I believe long walks on the beach would help to strengthen you. They’re quite popular with the court, I believe. Even the crown prince takes daily walks there and finds the sea air bracing. You might wish to join him.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and wondered if this wasn’t some ploy on Rozamond’s part. It was well known that she and her father had been trying to marry off her younger brother for some time. Not that he wasn’t good looking. He was, extremely so. But I’d heard rumors about him for years. He was supposed to be promiscuous and had taken many lovers. Not a great thing for an omega. Alphas, for better or worse in our world, wanted their omegas to be innocent.
Prince Chandler was staying at the palace, and he had come by to see me on several occasions. He was very pleasant and friendly. In fact, his bright, inane chatter did seem to cheer me up a little. He even brought me little potions he said he’d gotten from his own healers and a few “tonics” to help heal me. Eventually, I came to enjoy and even look forward to his visits every day, if only to relieve the boredom. He was nice to look at too, both flirty and fun. He smelled deliciously of cherry pie, and he often gave me seductive looks.
Then one day, Harrison asked me about a marriage contract for Chandler.
“Chandler is twenty-one now,” he said, “and old enough to find a husband. He’ll be king one day, as you know, so we’ve been looking for a suitable Alpha for him for a while now. Someone appropriate to his rank, of course, and of good character. Someone trustworthy and strong enough to keep him in line. He can be quite…high spirited.”
“And are you saying you thought of me for this?”
“Well, yes, of course. You’re my cousin and one of my closest friends as well. There’s no one I think more highly of, along with Asher and Wyatt, of course, but Wyatt is married now and Asher’s always busy with his alchemy studies or has his nose buried in some book. Chandler is a prince, and he’s a bit spoiled, though very handsome. A really desirable omega. His father, the Sudfarman king will make sure he has a rich dowry. I know you’ve always been interested in both men and women, so…”
