Chapter 2
Oz
Having squirrel for breakfast was probably not the best decision.
Stepping through the portal, I felt that now-familiar lurch in my stomach. It was like being pulled under the water during a strong current or a vehicle swerving on an inch of water. Water in great amounts or small had the power to leave a man or beast helpless.
As a man, I was not good at being helpless. Inside my gut, my beast showed its disapproval by clawing at my intestines. The sensation of being pulled apart atom by atom and then stitched back together was something I would never get used to, no matter how many times I would do it.
No matter if it was by portal travel, or if I was being physically sliced apart by the person I trusted most in the world—the person who had brought my life into existence.
Opening my eyes for my first look at this world left me less than impressed. I took a deep breath, allowing my senses to adjust, to take in the nuances of Earth. The air carried unfamiliar scents, a cocktail of odors that didn"t fit the natural world I knew.
Exhaust from the vehicles, the sharp tang of technology, mingled with the natural scents of dirt and rain that underpinned this city"s atmosphere. It was a far cry from the crisp, clean air of the forests and mountains I was accustomed to.
"You smell that, Oz?"
"What smell is that, my king?"
"It"s the smell of success."
"You"re feeling good about these negotiations with the House of Blood and Beryl?"
"Negotiations?" King Dion looked back at me over his shoulder. His canines glinted in the sunlight. "I smell brand new women eager to bounce on my cock."
"Your favorite smell," I deadpanned.
All the while, I remained stoic, not letting a hint of discomfort at the travel show on my face. This wasn"t my first trip. I"d used witches" magic to travel short distances in my country of Panthera. In my role as King Dion"s chief of security, I"d traveled the breadth of our home world, Arcadia. But I"d just traveled between worlds, from the realm of the gods to the mortal planet of Earth.
The light here had a different quality, too. The rays felt harsh on my skin, artificial even in daylight. It cast sharp shadows that fractured the world into a kaleidoscope of light and dark. It was disorienting, and I had to focus to keep my bearings.
As chief of security for the king, my instincts were always dialed to high alert. But here, in this teeming portal station, they were stretched to their limits. The place was a melting pot of beings. Shifters of all kinds mingled with vampires, fae, and witches, each with their own agendas, each radiating their unique energies and intentions. And my king, with his roaming eye, clearly wanted to touch more than he wanted to look.
The guards of the Portal Watch moved through the crowd with a brusqueness that bordered on aggression. Their eyes were hard, their movements sharp and deliberate as they herded the newcomers or managed those departing. Their demeanor spoke of the tension that simmered just beneath the surface, a reflection of the complex dynamics at play in this gateway between worlds.
I sensed the underlying currents of power, the silent battles for dominance and respect among the various beings. Shifters prowled with restrained grace, their eyes wary and watchful. Vampires moved with an eerie smoothness, their gaze piercing through the throng, assessing, calculating. The fae, with their ethereal beauty, seemed almost aloof to the chaos around them, yet their presence stirred the air with whispers of magic. Witches, cloaked in their arcane energies, navigated the space with inscrutable calm, their eyes gleaming with knowledge and secrets.
Everywhere I looked, there were negotiations, confrontations, silent exchanges laden with meaning. The air was charged with the potential for conflict or alliance, each interaction a display of power and diplomacy. But this was what we were here for.
Beside me, King Dion stood in his human form, his golden hair and cold black eyes taking in the world as well. A charming smile played on his mouth. It was his poker face.
Dion smiled when he was happy. He smiled when he was angry. He smiled when he gave an order that would turn the hardest of generals' stomachs. The man never flinched. Why would he? He was the descendant of gods.
Our contrasting appearances were a visual representation of our roles within the envoy. Dion, the charismatic diplomat, was the face of our mission, his striking features and regal presence commanding attention. Meanwhile, I remained the vigilant protector, my dark form blending into the shadows, ready to act at a moment"s notice.
The unfamiliar surroundings and the presence of powerful witches, ancient vampires, and unknown shifters kept me on edge. I knew that in this world, appearances could be deceiving, and I trusted only my instincts and my loyalty to the king.
Dion turned his piercing cobalt eyes toward me, a subtle nod of acknowledgment that signaled the start of our mission. We were here for diplomatic negotiations with the leaders of the House of Blood and Beryl. The potential alliance between our kingdom and the House was crucial for both our worlds, but I couldn"t help but be wary. Trusting these other supernaturals, even in a diplomatic setting, was not in my nature.
I had always been fiercely loyal to Dion ever since the day he had saved me from the clutches of my living nightmare when we were both cubs. I would protect him with my life. Which often involved me cockblocking females trying to dig their claws into our charming king. While Dion liked having his cock stroked like a healthy big cat, I was the one often blocking my own family jewels from gold-clawing, wannabe queens trying to get past me to get to him.
"If you don"t stop dogging my steps, the women here are going to get the wrong idea."
Dion was never without a woman at his back, at his feet, in his bed. I didn"t slow my stroll or give the king more space. "This isn"t Panthera. No one here is loyal to you."
"Except you."
I didn"t bother to nod. He knew the answer to that.
"I"m not looking for loyalty, old friend. If these trade negotiations go the way that I want, with the portal reopened, there"s more than wealth at stake. There"s more power to be had. And you know what comes with power?"
I sighed deeply, knowing what was coming but not wanting to give voice to it.
"Say it," Dion said as he wrapped his biceps around my head.
I managed to get out of his hold, but he reached for me again. The prince had had a head over me when we were cubs. Over the years, I caught up to the king in height and muscles. In our human forms, we were evenly matched.
The headlock was his favorite move. His grip on me was strong. But it left his lower body relatively exposed. I could drive my elbow low, but I had honor now.
Besides, he was the son of a god, and my king. I owed him my life. He hated when I called him my savior. He preferred I call him my friend. And as his closest friend, I knew right now what he wanted from me, what he needed before the biggest parlay of his life, was a moment of play.
Before I could brace myself, he launched at me, a feint to the left followed by a swift jab to the right. Instinctively, I blocked, countering with a quick kick aimed at his side. Dion dodged with the grace and speed that only a jaguar shifter could possess. I knew better than to hold back; Dion wouldn"t have respected me if I did. Our punches and kicks were real, packed with the strength of our animals. The sound of our combat, the thud of fists on flesh, and the scrape of shoes on pavement brought the first smile to my face since stepping out of the portal.
Then Dion got an arm around my neck. "Say it."
His hold was absolute. The only move I had to free myself was to say it. "Power comes with pussy."
"That"s what I"m talking about!"
The king let me go with a hefty pat on my back. As quickly as it had begun, the fight was done. There was no victor, no vanquished—just two old friends who understood each other in a way few others could. We clapped each other on the back, the laughter still echoing between us as we climbed into the waiting vehicle.