“Lachlan,” he corrected before he went to stand beside his brother at the window. He didn’t even glance at me. “I would say to make yourself at home, but I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.”
“Lachlan, no.” Kellin made an odd sound, then grasped his brother’s forearms.
The two spoke in low tones, in the selkie language I’d heard Stellina use a few times, obviously concerned for each other. They were the same height, and their features were close enough that they could be mistaken for twins, but Lachlan was full of brash energy, barely contained, and Kellin was the opposite. Quiet and thoughtful.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though neither one acknowledged the weak apology. So I picked up my boots and the fresh pair of trousers that were in a tidy pile by the door next to my bags and cloak, dressed quickly, then slipped out with all my worldly possessions in my hands and a heavy heart.
It was a shame he’d been saddled with me as a mate. What I’d been ready to admit to Kellin was that I had a habit of hurting the people I loved.
I stepped into the yard, the late afternoon sun warm on my face. “Warqueen?” Dustin stood at attention at the door, a small tent set up only a few paces from the front door. He’d slept outside, obviously. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell the others I’ve gone to the privy.”
“Yes, Warqueen,” he replied with a salute, but his eyes were on the packed saddlebags over my arm.
I sighed, then fished in my cloak for a small bottle. “Put this on your clean face every night, two drops, after washing.”
He trembled. “Of course, Warqueen.” He was acting like I’d given him poison, instead of something to clear up his skin. I suppose it was a fair reaction.
“Where is my valet?”
“Ah, my lady, he’s at the camp.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not supposed to go back to the camp. I cut my warrior’s braid. They won’t welcome me.”
Damnit.I’d need to figure out some place for him to go.
I walked toward the privy house I’d noted the day before, then slipped into the wooded area behind it. I’d stolen a beautifully drawn map of the area from one of Goran’s generals, and as I walked, I used it to plot my course and committed the landmarks to memory. I needed to get on my way before I fucked up any harder, or collected any more mates I’d have to reject, or other disgraced Starlakian boys.
Time to find Alexios and get out of Starlak.
The war camphad been set up a five-minute walk away from the house, just behind the trees that bordered the rocky beach, and I followed the sounds of shouting, excited warriors to the center of it.
To his credit, one of the sentries went on alert when I approached, but the sounds of the waves rolling the stones and the chattering of two squirrels in the salt cypress trees distracted him long enough for me to slip past. The other sentries were too far away to see me, and most of the camp was focused on the main attraction.
I was upwind of them all, though, with my back to the beach, which worried me a bit. I wrapped my cloak around me, trusting the icy sea wind to disperse my scent as it bloomed.
And it bloomed like an Omega in her first heat when I managed to get a clear view. It was like I’d stepped into a fantasy.
Goran and Alexios faced each other, barefoot and shirtless, sweat gleaming on their chests and arms, with a ring of warriors on their knees around them in a wide circle. Alexios had on the cream-colored, skimpy loincloth he wore under his robes. I’d made it a habit not to stare at him for too long—he was my best friend, had never once shown any interest in me, and to top it all off, he was my valet. I took this chance to ogle him as he deserved, and as I’d wanted to more than once.
He was perfect, his body honed and his skin almost a golden shade of pale brown. I traced an invisible path with my gaze from his lean calves to his corded thighs, the muscles rippling as he stood on the bare earth, then up his back to his neck where his long, dark hair was tied in a clubbed knot. I couldn’t see his face, but his laughter carried over the wind.
“Come on then, Warlord. I’ve heard so many stories. Those can’t be your best moves.”
Goran stood a few paces in front of him, his cheeks red over his beard and a wild gleam in his blue eyes, but he was almost as amused. “You’re not fighting so much as ducking. Stand still and let me hit you.” His long, golden hair streamed down his neck and wide shoulders, the small braids swinging as he moved around, preparing for his next attack.
He’d gathered a few more scars over the years on his chest and arms, but they only served to accentuate the muscle under the skin. My fingers twitched, remembering all the nights I’d spent learning the shapes of him. My gaze dropped to the tight-fitting trousers that hid his lower body from view. I remembered what was underneath that leather, too.
Goran was far larger than Alexios, and I would’ve been worried for my valet, except I’d seen him fight. Hells, I’d fought with him, and had my ass handed to me every single time. His moves were smooth as silk, nothing like Goran’s blunt force attacks.
But Goran was light on his feet, too, and when he struck out with a low kick, Alexios had to jump up and back in a quick somersault to keep from being knocked down. When he landed, Goran attacked again.
The next few moments were a masterclass in fighting, and I was reminded of the time I’d watched a songbird harass an eagle. Alexios wasn’t letting his blows land when he could help it, but turning and moving so that Goran stumbled on the attack.
“Fight me!” he roared at last, a hint of anger finally emerging. “Are you mocking me?” Those words carried a hint of wounded pride, and I saw Alexios go still, his eyes widening.
Shit.That was all the opening the warlord had needed. His next punch connected with Alexios’s solar plexus, hard. My valet went flying, and even though he landed well, somehow twisting like a cat midair to fall on his hands and feet in a crouch, the blow had winded him. The fight after that was ugly, and short. He allowed Goran’s strikes to land, but still kept from hitting the larger male.
It wasn’t long until Alexios was swaying in front of the warlord, facing a massive fist, that Goran realized what was happening. His jaw dropped open. “Are you… letting me win?” The cheering warriors around them went quiet. “You haven’teven tried to land a solid punch, or kick.” He glowered down at the Beta. “You insult me.”
