“I am,” Seath confessed. “What kind of man, what kind of leader will I be if I can’t contain my desires when I am already betrothed to another?”
Greene cut Seath a look. “You are hardly celibate, Legate.”
“This is different.”
“Different how?” The question was gentle and Seath felt his mind take over, and his mouth follow, with words explaining how he felt about Lycan. It was his feet in the dirt again, the same feeling of connection present with Greene.
“Some people,” Seath finally stumbled to putting an end to his ramble, “don’t believe in fated mates, like Luke, but I’ve seen it. And once you’ve seen it . . .” Seath shook his head then. “Once you know that’s out there, it’s impossible not to want it. I claimed that betrothal as soon as the astrologer spoke it. I don’t want to disrespect it now.”
Greene laughed so low it was more of a rumble. “One person fate says will balance me out? Be my perfect companion in every way? Be made of the dust of the same star as me? Seems ambitious, at best.”
Seath laughed, too. Greene had been married, but it had not been fated.
“Ambitious,” Seath said, shaking his head at Luke’s use of the word. “I’ve been called worse, I think.”
Greene grunted in response.
“The astrologers predicted a match for me, and I agreed to the celestial betrothal, Greene. You know that. Prince Donavan is fated to me.”
Greene sighed with an affectionate smile. “You do love the old ways. Fated to a human prince you have never met for the sake of tradition and lore.”
Seath smiled. “It’s more than tradition and lore, Alpha. I am due to begin the courting process this year. Perhaps we should move that up.”
Greene paused in their strides. “Is that what you want?Seath halted, something sick and icy in his gut that had never been before when he thought of his betrothal. He wanted Lycan. That was all his mind seemed to know, all his body seemed to know. And for the first time since accepting the celestial bond to his fated mate as a young boy, and then accepting the bonds of the astrologer’s prediction to Donovan when he was a young man, he had a feeling that was close to regret. To wrongness.
“Seath.” Green laid his large palm over Seath’s heart. “I know you will make the right decision here. You have not mated with omegas, out of preference for your bond with Donovan, so I understand the pull of someone you find so alluring. I cannot tell you what to do. But, if you want me to press the issue of your promise with Donovan, I will. However, if you don’t—” Seath’s startled gaze raised to Greene’s steady one, “for any reason, then understand that King Tremon and the country of Taured in general has been very quiet for the past few years on the subject of your engagement to their prince. So you have all the time that you need to sort out your thoughts on the matter.”
Seath swallowed hard. He had needed his Alpha, and there he was. He could only hope to be that kind of man for his Pack one day. So, he just nodded, unsure of what the answer would be.
“Come on, “ Greene nudged him with a large shoulder. “Let’s hit the hot springs and then get some rest.”
Chapter seven
Lycan is more than he seems
Lycanstaredathishands. They were pink-clean, with the nails buffed to a slight shine. He had been taken care of in terms of cleanliness before he came here, but it wasn’t his own. It had the cleanliness desired of his captor, to show him off from time to time. This he had done himself.
He stared at his wrists, only the dullest amount of scarring from the silver restraints still marred his skin, his broken hands had been set and his wolf healing had done the final job and repaired them.
Not as much healing as would happen if he could shift, he was told. Still, without the Wolfsbane in his system, all the healing seemed to accelerate. What took days now took minutes.
Instead of the magic that bound his mind, apparently most of his healing abilities were weakened with the Wolfsbane drug. Whether that was because wolf-healing was harder to tie off than some of his senses or the drug was just expedient, he did not know. But now, the last was finally pushing out of his system, and he was able to heal like a normal wolf.
Well, a normal wolf that couldn’t shift.
“How do you want your hair?” the pixie-like omega named Van asked as he perched on Lycan’s bed next to Trav.
His hair had always been cut to the liking of captors, and his captors had liked it shorter.
“Longer,” he said, decisively. “Can it look presentable and still grow?”
Van nodded with a smile, and began pulling it back into some kind of bun. “Just wait until these curls grow out even more,” Van smiled, “beautiful.” As Van worked on his hair, Trav briefly touched Lycan’s ear.
“Do you want your earring in?” Trav asked softly.
“No,” Lycan said reflexively. The piercing itself didn’t bother him, he liked that he had it and knew it was something he had done himselfbefore, but the precious gem he wore in it when he was found had been a gift from when he was held captive and he didn’t want it against his skin ever again. He had taken it out while still in the hospital, and left it out.
“That’s worth a fortune, you know,” Van said, gesturing to the emerald stud, Asher cut and large. The deep green, the perfect compliment to Lycan’s eyes. The cut, color, and size were to show the expense of the thing. An in your face sort of gesture to obscene wealth. A fancy jewel that made Lycan feel uncomfortable in what it signaled.
