6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

T hey never made it to the Haunted Escape Room that night.

After escorting Owen to his own cabin, Fenix had trudged back to his quarters through the rain to indulge in a shower and a change of clothes. He had barely finished lacing up his boots when he'd received a message from Seneca with a tentative schedule for the princess.

Instead of enjoying a nice meal in, Iliana wanted to sample the festival fare. She had also decided that she needed to color her hair that night by whatever magical means available.

Since they wouldn't be leaving the castle grounds, she didn't need a full Guard. With the inclusion of hotel security, she probably only needed two of them, but Fenix had erred on the side of caution and assigned three Guardians. Normally, he would have volunteered himself, but it had been a perfect opportunity to spend some time alone with his new mate.

Unfortunately, Iliana had decided she wanted the entire Guard engaged in her little adventure.

In the end, it had worked out better than he could have anticipated. While he would have preferred to have Owen to himself, his mate really needed to be around people. He understood the guy was scared, mostly of himself, but he would never overcome that anxiety without practice.

So, while Iliana had visited every food and drink stall, he had wandered the connected ballrooms with Owen. Throughout the night, he had stayed close, giving his mate the buffer he needed to enjoy his time at the Manor. At some point, they would have to address the root cause of his fear and work on building control. One night of peace and relaxation wouldn't hurt, though.

When Iliana had returned from her hair appointment with a curtain of metallic rainbow locks, there had been a brief flash of emotion on Owen's face. It had passed quickly, and he'd spent several minutes gushing over how much he loved her new look. That expression had stuck with Fenix, though, and it had taken him most of the night to work out what it had meant.

Sadness. With maybe a hint of jealousy.

Of course, naming the emotion didn't tell him why it existed in the first place. In fact, it only conjured more questions. Owen clearly wanted to change his appearance, so why didn't he? Fenix could think of a few obstacles, none of them to his liking. Instead of bringing it up and embarrassing him in front of the group, however, he had made a mental note to find a natural opening for the conversation in private.

As the night had eventually wound to a close, he'd been disappointed when Owen had bypassed his cabin. Still, he hadn't pressed. The day had brought a lot of changes for both of them, and if Owen needed space to process everything, he could respect that. He didn't like it, but he could respect it.

Sprawled on the queen-sized bed, he stared at the blank ceiling while he tried to quiet his racing mind. So much had happened in such a short time, and he'd barely had time to catch his breath.

He had never been opposed to the idea of a mate, but he hadn't given it much thought, either. It would happen, or it wouldn't, and he'd never seen much sense in worrying about it. Now that he'd found Owen, he realized how foolish that had been. Of course, Owen would always come first, but the transition might have been easier if he'd been prepared.

For almost three decades, he had lived at Nightstar Palace. In the beginning, he had been a member of the queen's Guard, and it had been one of the greatest privileges of his career. When Queen Rowena had come to him and offered him the position of chief Guardian to her unborn daughter, he had been flattered beyond measure.

Since the day of her birth, he had rarely been away from her, and in that time, their relationship had blossomed into something much more than mere duty. She was family, like a bratty little sister he enjoyed indulging. The same could also be said for the other Guardians.

He'd been given the chance to hand-pick his own Guard, and he had never regretted his choices. Unlike Prince Orrin, Iliana's protection team had never changed. No one had left. No one had been replaced.

To be fair, the high turnover wasn't Orrin's fault, but he had earned the reputation of an unwitting—and unwilling—matchmaker. So many members of his Guard had found their mates, some only a few weeks after being in his service. There had been one memorable instance of a Guardian finding his mate the same day as his arrival.

Even random staff members who interacted with him had started falling victim to fate, making Orrin the butt of more than a few jokes. As such, Fenix hadn't blamed him when he'd run off to the Underworld with his own mate. Naturally, the teasing had still continued, but in reality, everyone at the palace had been thrilled for him.

Just like Fenix knew everyone would be happy for him when they learned of Owen. Then he'd never see them again.

He didn't want to leave. It was a selfish desire, and one he would never voice to anyone else, but there it was. Protocol, however, demanded it, and he understood why.

A few prerequisites existed for Guardians. First and foremost, they had to come from a special mixed lineage of shifters and magic users which made them nigh on indestructible. The second, equally important trait the Ministry of Otherling Affairs looked for was the absence of meaningful connections.

No parents. No siblings. No love interests. Not even best friends were allowed. To be an effective Guardian, nothing and no one could come before the safety and wellbeing of their charges. If that changed, well, so did their employment status.

He could probably find placement in another branch of MOA. A standard guard felt like a step down, but an Investigator might be fun. Maybe he could find a job training other Guardians. As luck would have it, he had a few connections that could probably make that happen.

Luckily, he had the remainder of the week to figure it out. With that in mind, he reverted to his default and told himself he'd worry about it later. It didn't really help. Even the constant patter of rain against the roof and the occasional crash of thunder couldn't distract him from his tangled emotions.

Okay, maybe it distracted him a little. Mostly because he hoped to hell it would stop raining before they traveled to the city in the morning. He also realized he hadn't invited Owen to join them. To him, it had been a given that his mate would go where he went, but in hindsight, that might have been a little highhanded.

Besides, he wouldn't blame Owen for bowing out of a day of shopping. The gods knew he wasn't looking forward to it, but having Owen there would make it, at the very least, tolerable.

Still working on a suitable argument to convince his mate to accompany him, he almost missed the soft knock on his door. A quick glance at the bedside clock showed almost two o'clock in the morning.

If it had been someone from his team, they wouldn't have been so polite. Hotel staff perhaps? But why would they come calling at that time of night? Maybe some drunk patron had gotten lost and ended up at the wrong door.

Frowning, he rolled out of bed, grabbed his sweats from the end of the mattress, and tugged them on before crossing the short distance. Before he could check through the window to find out who was standing on his porch, the sweet scent of lemons and vanilla hit him like a wrecking ball.

Confusion quickly morphed to concern as he jerked the door open to find Owen dripping onto the wooden planks. Despite the short walk, the heavy rain had completely soaked him, and his bare feet were an angry red from the cold.

"Hi," he said through chattering teeth. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I don't really know, but I was wondering if maybe—"

Another crack of thunder rent the night air, and Owen screwed his eyes closed and ducked his head as his entire body went stiff.

His heart hurting, Fenix took him by the arm and ushered him across the threshold. It soothed something inside him when Owen immediately stepped into his embrace and snuggled against him.

"Sorry," he repeated. "I'm not so great with storms."

"None of that. I said you could come to me whenever you need me, and I meant it."

"Can I stay with you tonight? I can sleep on the floor."

He would do no such thing, but they'd argue about it once he was dry and warm. "Come on. Let's find you something to wear."

Owen immediately jerked away, his eyes wide in the moonlight that filtered through the part in the curtains.

Okay, not the reaction he'd expected. "Owen?"

"I'm getting you all wet."

Fenix snorted as he pulled him back into his arms. "I literally couldn't care less."

"Good," Owen sighed. "Gods, you're so warm."

They were going to have an entirely different kind of problem if the guy didn't stop rubbing against him like that. His brain recognized the request for comfort, but his body clearly wasn't getting the message.

"Come on, talei . Let's get you dry."

Owen nodded and backed away with visible reluctance. "Yes, please."

Ducking into the small bathroom, Fenix grabbed a towel and brought it back, tossing it over his mate's head. Then he went to the dresser by the window and dug through the drawers for a pair of sleep pants and a long-sleeved tee.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked as he passed him the clothes.

"My phone is broken."

Right. Damn it.

"I'll buy you a new one tomorrow." It was the perfect excuse to get him into the city. "Go on."

He turned him toward the bathroom and gave him a slight push. No way his good intentions would survive watching the mage undress in front of him.

Owen thanked him and hurried into the en suite. When he returned a few minutes later, his hair had mostly dried, and some color had returned to his face. The legs of his pants pooled around his feet, and the top hung down to the middle of his thighs. Instead of rolling the sleeves, he fisted the excess fabric in his hands, making him look far too tempting for his own good.

Oh, who was he kidding? The guy looked fucking edible in anything, but there was something about seeing Owen in his clothes that flipped all his switches.

"Are you warm enough?"

Owen nodded, then jumped and squeezed his eyes closed when thunder boomed overhead. "I thought it was supposed to snow in Colorado."

"The storm will pass soon." Rounding the bed, he flipped the covers back and motioned for his mate to climb in. "If you're uncomfortable," he added when Owen hesitated, "I can sleep on the floor."

"No. I'm not uncomfortable." As if to prove his point, he dove onto the bed and slid under the blankets. "Thank you."

"Stop thanking me," Fenix grumbled as he joined him.

Secretly, he enjoyed knowing his mate needed him. Loved being his literal safe harbor in the storm.

Once they were settled, he took all the guess work out of the situation by curling his arm around Owen's waist and pulling him close. "Sleep."

He punctuated the command with what was meant to be a chaste kiss. The moment their lips touched, however, his traitorous body responded by lighting up like Christmas morning. Not wanting to put undue pressure on his mate, he tried to pull away, to leash his own selfish desires.

When Owen followed him, chasing his lips with a quiet, needy moan, all bets were off.

With a dark, possessive growl, he captured his mate's mouth again, rolling Owen beneath him to trap his slim frame against the mattress. The answering whimper when he thrust his tongue between the mage's lips sent fire coursing through his veins.

Gods above, he tasted like heaven, and the way his soft body molded against him, the way he fit so perfectly, could only be by celestial design. He wanted him, craved him, but he needed to be honest with himself.

Gentleness did not come easily. Things like romance and tenderness had never been a part of his vocabulary. Owen deserved more than a quick romp and a rough ride, but he had little to offer in the way of sweet seduction.

"Touch me," Owen whispered, catching Fenix's bottom lip between his teeth as he arched into him.

Fuuuck .

The quiet plea undid him, and he slanted their mouths together to pillage the sweet depths. He licked and tasted, tracing every inch until his head spun with his growing need.

No passive participant, Owen tangled his fingers in Fenix's hair, holding him close as their tongues slid together, twining and sliding in an intimate dance. Realizing he didn't need to be perfect, just present, Fenix pushed aside his own desires and focused on the incredible creature before him.

He took his time, unwrapping Owen between kisses like the gift he was, laying him bare to his gaze. Gods, he was beautiful. All long, lean lines wrapped in the softest, smoothest skin. A flush covered his fair complexion, a delicate pink that only added to his allure.

Sliding down his mate's body, he mapped each inch of him with his hands and mouth, committing every curve, valley, and freckle to memory. He dragged the ridge of his thumbnail over one of Owen's erect nipples, loving the way he hissed and arched into the pressure.

At the apex of his slender thighs, he skimmed his nose along the crease, inhaling his mate's scent before sucking the sensitive flesh between his lips. As he continued to nip and tease, he fisted his palm around the base of Owen's swollen cock and stroked him lightly from root to crown.

Fuck, he adored the way the guy reacted to his touch, how he writhed and flexed, searching for more. Fenix had never been much for foreplay, but everything felt different with Owen. Having no end in mind allowed him to enjoy the journey, and he found that bringing the male pleasure gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.

Still lavishing attention on his mate, he stretched his arm over his head to search the nightstand for the little plastic bottle he'd left there earlier. By the time he had crawled into bed, he had been in no mood to use it, but thank the gods he'd grabbed it from his suitcase.

He flipped the cap open with his thumb and flipped the tube over to squeeze a generous amount of gel onto his fingers. Then he resumed his position, cradled between Owen's thighs, and urged him to bend his knees. Circling the tight rosette with one slick finger, he captured the bulbous head of his mate's cock between his lips and traced the edge with this tongue.

Owen bowed up from the mattress, a strangled groan trapped in his throat, as he buried his fingers in Fenix's hair again. He didn't thrust or try to take control, but every slight movement of his body was a silent plea for more.

Only too happy to accommodate, he breached the guarding ring of muscles, working past the constriction until his finger glided easily into the velvety channel. Moving his mouth in tandem with his hand, he worked Owen from both ends, pumping and sucking until he had him teetering on the very edge.

With Owen's moans echoing throughout the room, and his sweet body primed for release, Fenix couldn't wait any longer. Sliding his fingers free, he slicked his length and dragged his mate onto his lap to straddle his hips.

When he sank into his hot, tight channel, it took every modicum of self-control he possessed not to thrust into him like the beast he was. His heart leaped into a wild gallop, his muscles strained against the resistance, and his head spun as his entire world narrowed to the point where their bodies joined.

Aching, hungry, bordering on desperate, he rocked his hips, driving up into his mate with long, steady strokes. In return, Owen wrapped around him, holding him by the neck and locking his legs around Fenix's waist. He held tight, accepting everything Fenix could give him while pleading for more.

As he neared the pinnacle, he inserted a hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and fisted Owen's cock, jerking him in time to every demanding thrust. His own growls and grunts mingled with his mate's whimpers and moans, creating an erotic symphony that spurred him to the finish line.

Unable to hold back a second longer, he buried himself to the hilt and spilled himself into Owen's depths. Then, with a deep, rumbling growl, he lowered his head and clamped his mouth onto the apex of the mage's shoulder. His sharp canines easily pierced the sensitive skin, and another intense orgasm slammed into him when copper bathed his tongue.

Owen screamed, and his inner walls convulsed as volley after volley of warm semen spurted from his cock to paint Fenix's hand and abdomen.

Once the high faded, he slumped limply into Fenix's arms, panting heavily against the side of his neck. He looked so sweet, so sated, but there was still one thing left to do.

Sliding a knuckle under his chin, Fenix tilted his mate's head up. Then he nicked the side of his tongue on one of his canines and leaned in to slant their mouths together. He kept the kiss soft and gentle, stroking into Owen's mouth with languid glides meant to soothe rather than excite.

Pure, incandescent light filled him, the rays warm and radiant as their bond snapped into place. He felt the strands of fate untangling and reweaving themselves, forming a single unbreakable thread from his soul to Owen's.

"I feel weird," his mate murmured long minutes later. "Why am I so sleepy?"

Though he didn't realize it, his body was currently undergoing an enormity of changes. When the transformation completed, he would be stronger, faster, more resilient. He'd heal more quickly, and he'd never succumb to common human ailments.

The process didn't hurt, but it could be extremely taxing.

"You need to rest, talei ."

"I don't think I can move."

Fenix gathered him close and rested his cheek on the top of his mate's head. "Don't worry. You're exactly where you belong."