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Both kings.
And more importantly, I will kill for them when the time comes.
6
XADIEL
Not rejection, but position.
I can’t get her bloody response out of my head. My mate’s reaction to a clear rejection, although I never spoke the ancient words to break our small bond. I don’t want to hurt her. Yet I am emotionally, and it goes against everything I am as a werewolf and man.
Soul mates are sacred. A gift from the moon goddess herself.
What’s more, those few minutes fortified the tethers created by her scent, what drew me to that lake and then to recognize her as mine while my mind revolts against our wrongful pairing. Our relationship can’t move forward even if I recognize the beautiful girl as mine, making the witch's reaction a punishing reel while the animal within me growls under my skin; his anger as palpable as is his yearning.
He doesn’t see the familial resemblance to the woman who killed Mum.
Not the blood ties or the possibility she’s involved.
None of this matters to him. How every investigation about her comes back empty—Gabriella and Isabella were kept a mystery to many. Never seen by anyone outside their coven or their most trusted allies, my Mum was one of those people.
What are they hiding? It’s driving me bloody fucking insane.
Her appearance here does answer one question: where they’ve been.
My men hadn’t been able to locate them. They we’re smart to conceal themselves under the enemy’s nose, I’ll give them that.
I hate her family. Want her parents’ blood on my muzzle, dripping down my fangs.
The beast doesn’t care, though, and craves his mate—his female—while I abhor who and what she is.
Our needs have never been so out of sync. I’m torn in two. A witch has no place in my kingdom, much less as my Luna, and more so when her last name is Moore.
And yet, I can't stop thinking about her. Wanting. Craving. Throbbing.
Yearning for the scent of Jasmine’s to infiltrate my senses. Looking for her each night as I revisit the lake in hopes of seeing my little moon. It’s a blooming tick that controls me, growing with each passing day, and I’m near the point of hunting her down even if it’s to steal a bloody taste.
To feel her pinned beneath me, her cunt choking my cock even if it’s just once.
A sharp yelp of pain followed by the snap of bones pulls me from my thoughts and back to the fight happening mere steps from me. The challenger is a lower-ranking warrior who wishes to move up to patrol supervisor, and his attempt to do so is piss-poor at best.
“Yield,” my Gamma snarls. He has him on the floor with an arm pulled back, elbow and forearm visibly broken, and with his fangs at the man’s neck. The pain and acknowledgement of his superior's command has his body turning. His fur recedes and his dirty, bloodied skin appears with deep bruises littering the flesh.
Next is the re-aligning of bones. They snap in place, all but the broken one, while his snout pulls back, revealing a pained expression and busted lip. “No more.”
Cain stands then and gives the two enforcers standing at the ready a nod. They’re quick to remove the whimpering shifter, heading straight for the healer while my gamma takes a small towel from his mate.
At once, she begins to check him for injuries. It’s subtle, a quick roam of the eyes, but I take in their interaction while swallowing back my emotions. I’m not ready to acknowledge them or her.
And for the first time in my life, I’m jealous. A bit bitter.
My little witch will never have the chance to do the same. Fawn over me after a challenge or battle.
“Satisfied, love?”
“Shut it, you.” No real anger, more like embarrassment if the touch of pink across his mate’s cheek is anything to go by. “Besides, we have more pressing things to...”
I tune out the rest while surveying the warriors still waiting in formation. The vast training grounds are set up to fight in both skins, human and fur, while the large forest beyond remains untouched.
