Chapter 61

Arik

I should've known this would happen. Wasn't every part of me watchful, scanning my environment at all times, looking for clues? It was the only way I could keep ahead of my brother's sly attempts to end me.

I'd deflected a knife directed at Roan while he showered in the soldier's mess, breaking the assassin's wrist, then his neck. It made clear to anyone else thinking to take my brother's coin what a mistake that would be and stopped those in high command who supported the king from protecting the attempted murderer. It had me wearing a ring carved from unicorn's horn, something that had made Silas laugh, right up until the point it glowed red at an inn we were staying in. Ten or more people died that night from poison, but not me.

In my defence, I usually relaxed a little while on the packlands. The beasts that were the other half of the wolf shifters' souls seemed to prevent my brother from finding a foothold on the packlands. It was something that no doubt made him furious, helping convince me that we needed to spend every moment we could here. But the biggest distraction wasn't the habitual feeling of safety, the novelty of being able to take a full breath and loosen muscles held tight.

It was her.

If this is what Creed felt, I owed my brother-in-arms an apology. The minute Jessalyn swept in with her retinue, my mouth went dry. Of course she turned the sweet natured girls of the packlands into imperious princesses. The woman was a bloody force to reckon with, sweeping everyone up into her wake and transforming everything.

Which is why I needed to protect her.

Magnus was many things, but he wasn't a complete idiot. I'd be able to persuade him, I was sure, of the need to ‘gift' Jessalyn to Creed. It would buy further loyalty from the wolf shifters. He might even use this to bargain for more of the menfolk being sent to the army. Without the beast men, we'd have been overrun by Lanzene and Matteau within week, the two opposing countries joining forces for just long enough to wipe us out, then the fighting would start between the two of them as to how they would divide up what was left of Khean. I could rely on Magnus' sense of self-preservation I told myself over and over.

But the key bargaining chip I held was me.

I'd be isolated. The Bastard Prince and his men would be disbanded, and with its demise would go any legend I'd managed to create. I'd be easy to take out. Gods, I'd even welcome the next assassin he sent my way. I was tired, so fucking tired, of carrying the burden of my own survival. I'd stayed alive just to spite Magnus, then because I needed to maintain command of our band. The better, stronger, we'd gotten, the more I'd needed to live. Forming a pack seemed a natural extension of that, the creation of just this one thing that gave meaning to my life. I didn't aim too high, didn't want for much, just the opportunity to fight for my country as a common soldier. But when I saw Jessalyn draw closer, I felt a sadness as my eyes slid down her form.

My fingers flexed, wanting to tug that pretty bodice down and free those tits with the rosy-red nipples that pulled so tight when I sucked them. My tongue slid around my mouth, as if seeking the imprint they'd left there. I wanted to jerk what remained of that dress down, off her hips, and leave it in tatters on the floor, ruined for the temerity of making me want her so very violently that my balls ached. Because it was only when she was naked that I felt in control. I could make her sigh, pant, come apart, messing up that perfectly beautiful facade, turning her from a princess into something else. Not a whore, like her father would've thought, but…

Mine.

I was human. There was no hint of wolf shifter in my mother or my father's bloodlines, so I shouldn't have felt this. A burning need to take her, claim her, and right when I was burying myself so deep inside her I couldn't tell where I ended and she started, my blunt teeth would sink into her flesh, leaving a mark that would forever declare my claim. She was fucking mine, my heart told me with every beat, but I didn't say a thing about that, just keeping my mouth shut for once as she sat down and exchanged a little banter.

When Roan's eyes lit up and Creed's whole face did. When Silas sat taller, watching her like a cat might a mouse, I caught the moment when my pack transformed, becoming completely focused on Jessalyn. The commander in me wanted to demand they paid attention to their surroundings because staying alert was the only thing that kept us alive, but I couldn't. We were safe here, I told myself. We had to be. I'd take this moment in this haven to renegotiate the deal between my brother and I, then when the four of them were safely mated, I'd leave and… Let my brother have me finally, I thought. I'd want to die when the pack bond broke, legend told me, so why not end things how they begun? To finally finish the fight between me and my brother.

Of course, I couldn't be allowed that luxury, could I?

I forced my attention away from my girl and over to Elder Wren as she rose to her feet.

"I would like to welcome all of you to this year's mating games. We sit together now to celebrate this next evolution of life." She glanced at us and smiled. "When our young people move from a carefree life of no responsibilities…" A small chuckle went through the crowd. "To becoming adults. Where they find their purpose in life, the other half of their hearts. To grow past the selfish impulses of the young towards the importance of caring for others. Each individual pack is just a reflection of the greater collective. You come to love each member fiercely."

I watched Creed's hand slid across the table to grip Jessalyn's. Silas did the same, holding her other hand with a kind of reverence that seemed to surprise even him.

"You realise that their happiness is just as important, if not more than your own…"

She said more, some great lesson about putting the needs of the individual second to the needs of the collective, but I didn't hear it. My mind was caught on that last bit. Their happiness is just as important, if not more than your own. In an instant, my heart shifted. I wasn't aching with the pain of what I had to do, I was running towards it.

I never expected happiness. When the light went out in Ariel's eyes, something died in me too. Any moments of pleasure were snatched greedily, unearned and undeserved, but I couldn't stop myself gorging on them.

Like I had the princess.

I often wondered what the fuck was going through my head that night, but it was only now I think I realised what it was. Jessalyn irritated me, confounded me, and finally amused me far more than she should've. I was caught up in that determined look in her eyes, despite her terrible naiveté, because it reminded me so much of another girls. If I stared at the princess, I could pretend that all the pain and horror of the past hadn't happened.

Well, I swore I'd do things better this time. I'd do right by her now, even though I hadn't before. I'd protect Jessalyn in the ways I was never able to Ariel.

Was this love? I'd been exposed to few healthy models of it growing up, so it was hard to say, but surely that's what this was. If hope was a flickering flame, love was a fire that burned all the doubt and anger and frustration away, leaving just certainty. They had to survive. I needed to see Jessalyn standing in the door of her cottage, waiting for the others to arrive home from their labour. The men would be chuckling, jostling, and bickering like they always did, right up until the point they saw her. Then the smiles would fade away and something else would rise. Hotter, harder than the bonds of brotherhood. They'd rush towards her just to feel their hands around her waist as they lifted her into the air and—

"And so, I invite all of you to eat the fruits of our labour, enjoy the company of our people, and to spend this moment reflecting on the joy the bonds between us bring. We are stronger together, always remember that."

I think Wren was going to say more, but a sharp clap snapped her jaws shut and dragged all our attention to the back of the hall. My hand went to my sword hilt, the leather-wrapped metal a comforting thing, as my worst nightmare walked in.

"Well done," Magnus said, his lips twisted into a sardonic smile as he regarded the tables and the people behind them with a jaded eye. His smile soured when he caught sight of each girl dressed in the princess' gowns. The moment I caught the dangerous light in his eyes, I stiffened, every muscle tightening in readiness. "Pretty words indeed. We are all stronger when we band together." His focus shifted to Wren, who stood perfectly still at the main table. "Wolf shifters and humans in perfect accord."

"Your Majesty—" Wren started to say.

"Which is why I'm perturbed by the fact I was not invited to this little get together."

"No one comes in or out of the packlands during the mating games," Wren said between gritted teeth. "Your Majesty."

If I noted the fact his title was tacked on at the end, so did Magnus.

"But I came here on your invitation, Elder." His silky tone, the way he looked the elder up and down, all had my heart pounding faster. They were his tells, alerting me that I would not like what came next. "Word was sent that you needed special dispensation from me, to bless a new union between a wolf shifter…" His eyes slid to Creed. "And his fated mate."

Don't fucking look at her. Those words reverberated around in my head so loudly, I think my lips moved to make their shapes, but the king paid me no mind. Do not fucking look at her. His gaze landed on Jessalyn, and she flinched at his inspection. Magnus caught the way I stiffened, my furious grin, and then smiled.

He did the same when we were children. If my eyes lit up at the sight of a particular toy, he'd snatch it first, or if I managed to grab it, he'd tear it from my hands. Whatever I wanted, he had to have. That's what had me forcing myself to lean back in my chair, subtly pushing my body away from the princess and the rest of my pack. His smile widened though, showing far too many teeth.

"And who is the lucky lady?"

His manners were impeccable. Magnus was the perfect courtier, approaching the dais in a low bow, as if my pack were the rulers here, not him. "Not a wolf shifter lass from the look of those eyes." He lifted his head just enough to stare at Jessalyn. "No, you look… Stormarian."

"A handmaid of the princess you ordered us to bring," I told him. "The connection between Creed and the girl was instantaneous. She was meant to go home once we delivered the princess. She's got a husband back in Stormare who won't be pleased to find out she's run off with a beast man, hence why the elders sought your permission."

I was lying, and I'm sure I convinced no one, but I couldn't seem to stop. You never told Magnus what you actually wanted. He'd use that against you the moment he had that information and by lying, I'd done just that.

"A handmaid…" Magnus looked Jessalyn up and down, his smirk twisting as he caught sight of the floral crown on her head. "Then perhaps you can tell me where your mistress is?" I sucked in a breath when he pulled away from the main table, but any relief I felt was short lived. He turned and then paced around the silent dining hall. "So, which of these lovelies is my wife?" he asked, approaching Fern. "Is it you?"

The entire hall took a collective breath in as she was hauled to her feet, her eyelids fluttering as he yanked her closer to inspect her face. But right as other males went to move, she was discarded.

"No, you're a wolf-shifter wench. Perhaps it's you?"

I couldn't stay sitting, not when his fingers were biting deeply into unprotected flesh, and neither could the other males. We all moved as one to make clear his mistake. Magnus noted that he had our attention, right before he let the next girl go.

"Your Majesty, you were invited here to renegotiate the terms of the treaty, not to manhandle our women." Wren's voice was like the crack of a whip, lashing everyone here.

"Renegotiate…" Magnus turned and squared his stance, arms crossing his chest. He took Wren in and then smiled. "Yes, that is why I came. I'm glad you brought it to my attention. I've been meaning to change the very unfavourable terms my father and grandfather agreed to."

"Unfavourable…?"

I felt the ruffle of a breeze on my neck. The executioner's axe was about to drop on our unprotected necks. Why the hell did I allow myself to mess around with the mating games? Why did I not mobilise everyone the moment the packs were collected, prepare them for what was coming? They invited a viper into their midst and now would be shocked when they ended up bitten.

"You take the majority of our men to swell the ranks of your army," Wren snapped. "Without them, you'd never hold back the hordes that muster at your borders. We keep only enough men to ensure the packs survive, that more children are produced, the boys then growing into males that will serve under your command!"

He went very, very still, and I felt like I had been dropped headfirst into a frozen stream. Every nerve screamed, every inch of me shivering, tight and hurting.

"Why just some of the males?" he asked and then clicked his fingers to make something that should never appear on packlands, especially during the mating games. "Why not the women and the children too? Each one of you that has a beast should be out there fighting for the greatness of the Kheanian empire. Otherwise…"

Soldiers, human soldiers appeared from the shadows, which brought a chuckle from the shifters within the dining hall. No tin covered knight was going to withstand the might of even one wolf shifter. They misunderstood. It wasn't their swords or their bows that drew my attention, but the burning brands. My brother's men brandished them like they were the only weapons they needed, and as I stared out into the darkness, I saw countless other points of life bobbing.

I told them not to bring my brother here. We should've just mated Creed to Jessalyn. Seeking forgiveness was always going to be easier than asking for permission. Because when they expressed a desire for something he saw as his, this happened. Magnus, king of all Khean, was going to set fire to the packlands in retribution.