The Threshold had done its part too, swirling Lycan’s scent all around his offices.
Seath sighed, sliding the mouse of his computer away from his hands. Greene had moved them toward a paper-less office as much as possible, but today the lines and lines of words on the screen all wanted to blur together. He reached out with his wolf-hearing, hoping for a hint of something from Jamie and Lycan. Just to see how Lycan was doing.
“You can not send that to the Elves, Jamie.” Lycan was saying in a low voice.
“You are right,” Jamie sighed, “good call on catching the Foxglove in the bouquet. Flower identification isn’t something I know.” There was a companionable laugh between them. “But, we promised décor to the Elves for their celebrations. Maybe we can just take it out.”
“Or,” Lycan paused, “we call back the florist and let them know the mistake. They can replace it with something that won’t offend the Elves and also know that in the future we can count on them for such items because they now know Elves and what they like. We can use these bouquets here at the Pack House, or send them to Brightwater.”
Jamie hummed happily. “That’s much more diplomatic. I was so upset I just wanted to yell at them to take the whole lot of flowers back.”
Even though he couldn’t see it, Seath could imagine the little smile on Lycan’s mouth, the shrug he would give Jamie.
“We should probably get one of the wolves to smell them though, after the changes are made. Just to make sure it no longer smells like iron. I wouldn’t trust my nose for that.”
Seath sighed at those last words. Lycan had been so patient, waiting for his healing to begin in earnest. He had done everything that was asked of him to get better, and Seath realized that at some point, between offering his neck for the death bite and preparing for the coven, Lycan had made the decision to live. He hadn’t appreciated that before. But working with Lycan had made Seath realize a whole lot about his mate.
Like the way Lycan always seemed to know when Seath was running low on energy or was simply irritated. Just about the time Seath needed to pace by the windows Lycan would show up with a snack, or to check in with him, or with something Seath needed but hadn’t realized. Often, he would suggest to Caine or Luke that they take a stroll in the beautiful weather to discuss the business at hand. A walk and talk Lycan had called them.
Yesterday, it had been tea when Seath was frustrated over some documents from one of the port cities. One pot and a chat with Lycan and Jamie later, the documents somehow made sense again. The day before that, Lycan had shown up with a book that outlined exactly what Seath needed for how to solve a problem for a group of water sprites in one of the Pack’s major lakes. Today, it had been making sure that the Elves who lived in the forest that stretched wide over Pack lands didn’t receive flowers for their celebration that smelled like Iron. And that would have been a disaster.
Lycan had then been part of the party that delivered the newly arranged flowers to the Elves, leaving Seath alone and anxious until Lycan returned.
Seath could feel a tug to his consciousness, pulling at him all morning as he tried to go about his daily business of shifting through things he could handle and what needed Greene’s input, too. Finally, he gave up fighting it, sliding back instead into his chair and closing his eyes. He fixed his mind on that tug, the nudge, and found that it led to Lycan. He could sense his mate. Where he was and how he was feeling. It was faint, but there.
Luke found him just like that, kicked back in his desk chair, faintly rubbing his chest from where the feeling seemed to emanate, and staring off into space.
“Something wrong, Alpha?” Luke sat his files down, fully in pack-physician mode, coming to the edge of the large desk to put a hand on Seath.
“No.” Seath rubbed his chest. “It’s been easier, these weeks I have been back, even when Lycan has been gone. And I just realized . . .I can sense him. He went to deliver arrangements to the Elves, but I can still feel him.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “You mean you can feel a bond?”
Seath nodded. It wasn’t so strong he could pinpoint coordinates, but he could get within scenting distance of Lycan right this minute if he needed to. No more numbness where Lycan was supposed to be, but also more, too. More than just some shifter whose presence he could sense.
He could smell Lycan before, but this was his ability to sense him. No void. No numbness when he reached out. Instead, there was Lycan, a warm, bright light he could seek out. It eased something in his wolf.
“It’s nice, with the waiting, to have something tangible, too.” Seath swallowed. “Before I left, my wolf talked to him.”
Luke’s hand was warm and friendly on Seath’s leg. “It’s getting closer, I can feel it. Talking to his wolf isn’t a small milestone.”
“His wolf is waking. That’s what matters.”
The next morning a light knock came at the door of Seath’s study, and Lycan followed it with a tray of coffee.
Seath gripped the desk as Lycan’s scent moved over him. Every atom in his body moved him to make a mark on Lycan, and his scent wasn’t even restored at one-hundred percent. But, it was time. Almost a month may have flown by of them working side-by-side, but there was no denying it. It was time for another small monthly heat for his mate, and Seath was overwhelmed by the beginnings of it. The kindling of the fire.
“Alpha?” Lycan’s voice was uncertain, eyes glassy as if he was as overwhelmed as Seath.
Seath tried to breathe, and he swore the scent of Lycan got even stronger, with almost a burning tinge on the outside as if the residual magic that held back Lycan’s wolf, held back his heat, held back his fated mate bond, was burning off in real time.
The door to his study closed of its own accord and Seath cursed the threshold silently. Clearly, the Pack House was trying to kill him by trapping him in his own office with Lycan’s scent. He would fatally smother under his own restraint.
“Alpha?” Lycan whispered, and now there was desire, heavy and thick in the question, and Seath’s Alpha wanted to respond to the curious omega in a million ways that might only frighten Lycan off.
Lycan’s cheeks flushed, his long lashes fluttered as he hungrily looked over Seath’s body, his interest and arousal clear from his body language to his scent.
It was enough to make Seath grip the desk so hard he heard it start to crack.
