“We all know the fated mate bond can be painful if not completed. However, we would welcome Prince Donovan into the pack if that would help. He could remain close to Seath, if he wanted.” Greene offered.
Everyone could feel the tension roll off Seath, although he tried to hide it. He was against this idea of Donovan as his fated mate persisting. Instead, he wanted to set the record straight. But he understood Greene’s words, that’s why he was the representative to the Council. He hadn’t actually agreed with Donovan as a fated mate in his words to the Council, and for an opening volley it was a solid one.
Not that Tremon could take the offer. Tremon couldn’t possibly be thinking to send a rejected omega to live in the pack of the very Alpha who rejected him? It was almost unheard of. Cruel. Insulting. An offer that must be refused, put on Tremon so artfully by Greene to show the petty underbelly of the whole business.
Seath smiled.
“Oh,” Mirelle stated, not staying out of it although the Council was in charge now, or was trying to be. They were in the Seelie Court, of course, and the Fae had decided to meddle. “Do you have something to add, Pack Legate?”
Seath could feel the pull of the Seelie realm, wanting him to expel the truth. A sort of compulsion that ran in his veins. There was no room to hide in the Seelie Court, which might explain how the Fae got to be so artful in twisting words to both state the truth and hide it at the same time. He ground his molars until he was sure he was in control of himself.
“It was not intentional that I mated with Lycan. It was inevitable. Unstoppable. I will make sure Donovan does not suffer needlessly, which I think would include being sent to live in my Pack. He is welcome, of course, but not at the expense of what is best for him. Everyone here knows of the pull of a fated mate…”
“A pull you don’t seem to have.” Tremon’s voice was icy, full of contempt.
“He,” Seath’s hand shot out so quickly it almost seemed of its own accord, pointing accusingly at Donovan “is not my fated mate!”
A hush echoed from those words and Seath stood his ground. He had not intended to be so direct in saying Donovan was not his fated mate, as much as he had intended to simply imply it. Damn the Seelie Court.
Tremon strode forward, a nasty smile playing on his lips. “So, it’s true. You aren’t simply denying him, you are denying the entire fated connection? The prediction of the astrologer?”
“Lycan is my fated mate.”
“So sure aren’t you? And yet my understanding is that this omega has been spellbound. Influenced by magic.”
Seath eyed Tremon wearily as the tall witch began to pace the clearing and Seath had the feeling he just handed Tremon exactly what he wanted.
“This omega,” Tremon said, not even bothering to act as if he was talking to Seath anymore. His strategy was apparent now. Instead of attacking Seath and thus the Northwest Pack, he would go after Lycan. “He came here with no scent, no memory. He is an unknown outcast. Using his omega charms he has seduced you, Seath, and you have allowed it.”
“That is not—”
“You agree you have no idea who he truly is. Where he truly is from. You have convened the most unusual covens to help him. Full of Elves and witches. A Vampire. And yet, he remains unknown, even to himself. Or so he says. Who is to say that the same magic that has spellbound him hasn’t also made you believe he’s your mate? Two covens and the magic remains. Do you deny the magic that binds him is strong?”
Seath took a breath, trying not to shift, not to tear Tremon limb from limb.
“The magic that holds him is dark and well-crafted. Anyone at the coven can speak to that.” Greene spoke, allowing Seath to collect himself.
“So, you agree. You haven’t rid him of the magic. He could be magically making you mate him. He played a helpless omega, and you fell for it. Prince Donovan should not suffer for your foolishness,” Tremon said.
“Do you deny the mark?” Seath’s voice boomed like the Pack Alpha he wasn’t yet, but would be.
“I deny its magical source,” Tremon said calmly. “Fated mate magic could be manipulated, just like any other. And you are a pack that heavily relies upon magic.” He paused, dark eyes gleaming with fury. “Or perhaps it’s just a tattoo.”
“Tremon—“ Seath’s voice was part growl, and even as he saw the delight in Tremon’s eyes at his reaction, Seath could not help himself. He looked to the Prince who was somehow keeping his face unreadable, as if he wasn’t quite following the conversation.
He didn’t dare look at Lycan. Even in the muted realm of the Seelie Court, he could feel Lycan’s distress. And why wouldn’t he be distressed? Tremon was laying forth Lycan’s every fear like presents under the tree at the Winter Solstice.
“I think we must get to the bottom of this before we go any farther, don’t you, Councilors?” Queen Titania asked, breaking the tension between Seath and Tremon.
A tall, wiry Councilor in the middle nodded at the Fae. “That would be appropriate in order to determine what should be done here. It appears the fated bond itself is at issue. Are you making a proposal of how to accomplish that task? My understanding is that two covens have been called already and the omega remains partially spellbound.”
The Councilor to the left, a rounder stern-faced man said, “Let’s call the astrologer who predicted the match. That’s the source of the bond that is said to be broken. I say we start from the beginning to sort out this business.”
The other two murmured their agreement. And Mirelle smiled. “I volunteer to summon him to the realm, Councilors.”
As she whisked off to do just that, Seath took a breath. He dropped back from where he was standing with Greene at the head of the group, and walked up to Lycan, taking the omega’s smaller hand in his. He scented his mate, feeling his heart slow at having him near. He murmured assurances and love, and Lycan murmured them back, but neither kissed like they wanted, merely stood close.
Donovan stood to the side, still apparently unaffected by the proceedings, but in close reach of a large Alpha who appeared to either be his helper or his keeper in some way. He seemed content just to watch his life play out.
