"And that's all thanks to you," I teased him gently, hoping to change the subject. Luckily - well, depending on your definition of luck – the small purple dragon sleeping on his shoulder burst into a sneezing fit, the tiny flame igniting the drapes behind Spencer's back and he rushed her from the room in search of a fireproof hankie, as I set about extinguishing the smoldering fabric.
Chapter Two
Alrick
For all intents and purposes, there are three ways that an Alpha can claim leadership of a pack. Bloodline, murder, or theft. To my mind, the explanations are allsimple, but I have come to understand that not everyone agrees about the inherent simplicity.
An Alpha can take leadership of – or form – his own pack through his bloodline, his pedigree, relatively easily. As the son or daughter of a pack Alpha, they can simply accept control when the reigningAlpha - their father or mother – steps aside, allowing a peaceful exchange. Or, an Alpha from quality lineage can court prospective Betas and, in a perfect world, an Omega, to allow the creation of a new pack entirely.
Murder, I think, should be obvious. A successful challenge issued to take over an existing pack that leaves the reigning Alpha dead. Some would argue that this, a successful challenge, would, in fact, not be murder, but to my mind, causing an Alpha's death not in battle, not in defense of innocents endangered, but to take what was theirs, was the most egregious of crimes. This belief had been the crux of many a late-night debate with the men under my command, and more than once I'd been told that my moral code was over strong, overly complicated, but I remain unconvinced.
Finally, the option of theft. Not as common as the other two, but still not impossible. Some Alpha's have been known to populate their packs using stolen shifters; overpowering them,cowing them into swearing fidelity.
For me, the pup of a pack that had deemed me damaged and abandoned me to the council, the first option wasn't an option at all. The second and third? Well, let’s just stop at morally repugnant and move on to where Ididend up which wasn't leading a pack.
The Alpha of the pack that had fostered me in Greifswald, Germany, was adamant that no pup – and we wereallstill pups to him, regardless of age – leave his care without a plan for his or her future. So, when I reached my majority, Heilrich was more than willing to allow me to stay; he'd even offered me a paid position so I could earn some money before I struck out on my own.
But, like so many young Alphas, I was determined to prove that I could make my place in the world strictly by my own merit. Of course, what I was to learn – and quickly – was that at the ripe old age of eighteen, I had no merit. Instead, I clawed my way forward, every advance bought with blood, sweat, and tears, until, eight grueling years later, I commanded the North American team of the most elite special forces in shifter society; the Böxenwolf Brigade.
That service was how I came to find myself in my current predicament; standing in the Terena de Dragoni royal castle, pretending that I couldn't hear every word between the two whispering Omegas at the other end of the room. Spencer, the prince consort, was a plucky wolf-shifter who had unexpectedly hooked the prince of dragons. It was definitely an…untraditional mating, but the more I saw the two of them together, the more convinced I was that they complemented one another perfectly.
The other Omega, Sebastian, was always in my peripheral vision, even though at first I wasn’t sure why. From the first time that I saw him, he set an unfamiliar heat under my skin. It was almost like an itch that I couldn't reach to scratch. Initially, I'd marked it down to my uncanny gut instincts, an otherworldly warning that he, in some way, meant the princes or their guests harm. For that reason, I'd taken on his protective detail personally, telling myself that it was for the purpose of guarding against whatever harm he intended. Then, slowly, I began to recognize the feeling for what it truly was. I was a werewolf in love.
Once I'd realized how I felt, I'd begun trying to make small overtures to Sebastian, hoping to ingratiate myself, to get close enough that he might at least consider me a friend. Although, my ultimate desire was, of course, more than that. To date, my crowning achievement had been one scalding-hot stolen kiss - several long moments with his sweet body melting into mine, his aroused flesh pressing against mine, our tongues stroking one another as I eagerly swallowed the moans that he'd panted into my mouth - in the sudden darkness of an unexpected blackout on Solstice Eve but, coward that I was, I had fled before the lights were restored. The room had been crowded with shifters of many species, an overwhelming hodgepodge of scents that had made it all but impossible to single one out, and to the best of my knowledge, Sebastian remained unaware of who had kissed him.
Unfortunately, even if I'd had any reason to believe that the sweet little Omega would entertain a claim from a nomad like myself, my initial suspicion of him followed promptly by my inconvenient obsession with him, had unsurprisingly made him fearful of me.Thiswas the topic of the whispered conversation that I was pretending not to hear at the other end of the room.
There was an unpleasant tightening in my gut when Sebastian brought up the subject of leaving. I knew he was only visiting, assisting with the daily running of the castle and the care of several orphans that the prince and his consort had unexpectedly received temporary guardianship of, but I hadn't really thought ahead to whether or not he would be returning to the United States. Now I was being forced to accept that not only was he considering leaving but that my inability to let him out of my sight was the cause. Had I been one given to cursing, this would have been the time.
Chapter Three
Sebastian
"I spoke with Harry," Spencer's soft voice was sad when it came from behind me in the kitchen later that night. "He said that he’ll take you back to Coruscation territory, if that's what you really want." He pressed his chest against my back, wrapping his arms around my waist in a friendly hug. "I really don't want you to go."
"I know, hon." I continued to knead the bread dough on the counter before me; if I paused, it would quickly become too stiff to work. "You know I need to, though. Right?"
"I suppose."
The sadness in Spencer's voice was impossible for me to miss. We'd bonded pretty quickly locked together in the slaver's cage, and gotten even tighter after we'd been rescued. I knew I was the only person in whom he confided the secrets that he couldn't tell his mate; like admitting that as much as he loved his dragon, he was homesick for the companionship of the pack and that he desperately missed the freedom of running free where there were no predators to fear. I sighed to myself. It wouldn't kill me to stay a little longer if it made my friend happy.
"You know what?" I dumped the dough back into the bowl and covered it with a clean dish towel to continue rising. "I'm just being a wuss. Tell Harry that there's no rush." My ears protested against Spencer's delighted squeal as he tightened his arms around me, squeezing until I couldn't breathe.
"Really? You'll stay?"
"For a few more weeks," I cautioned, hugging him back. "But then I really do need to get my life back on track."
Spencer danced around the kitchen, dragging me with him as he spun in circles. Then he drew back and winked at me before nodding to the far end of the room where my hulking werewolf shadow stood, staring stoically at the wall as he pretended to be invisible. “Maybe he’ll warm up to you.”
I shook my head, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Spence was determined to believe there was a Disney ending where Alrick was my prince.
Of course, with Alrick as my personal shadow, my agreement to stay meant more time trying to determine exactly why he disliked me as intently as he did, but no answer was forthcoming. In my more introspective moments, I admitted to myself that I had never actually worked up the nerve to ask. That probably would have been a good start.
***
When a few other Omegas and I had first arrived at the castle to help take care of the orphaned dragonlets, Spencer had convinced Harry that we needed to be able to shift and run, so Harry had arranged for us to be escorted by the werewolves on daily jaunts through the countryside. It was my favorite part of almost every day, and I rarely missed the opportunity to run. The morning following my decision to stay on a little longer found me suddenly regretting that obsession.
Spencer was under the weather, and Eloy and Levi - the only other wolf shifters still visiting - were usually only inclined to join us when the weather was warm and clear, which was how I found myself moving through the crisp evening air, dodging errant snowflakes, with only Alrick for company.
