Filed to story: The Wolf Prince’s Fated Love
“I hadn’t even considered that,” I murmured, sparing a glance for Dirge, who lay not ten feet away, a mournful expression clear on his wolf features as he watched someone else comfort me. But I hardened my heart and looked away. “We should go now. The feast is probably going to go on all night.”
My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and Leigh laughed, throwing her head back, face tilted to the moon, soaking up the rays.
“I’m sure it is,” she said once she could breathe again. “But what about Fluff Butt? Isn’t he going to take issue with being around Iaoin?”
I thought about it, really thought about it. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew in my soul that he’d been pulled free of his feral state. He could shift back.
He was choosing not to.
And I wasn’t sure I could forgive him for that. I needed some space to process.
“I think it’s time we’re honest about where this is going.” I swallowed hard, speaking difficult even as I felt the rightness of what I had to say. “The feast is for human participants. If he’s unwilling to shift, he should wait in our rooms.”
Leigh’s jaw dropped as she glanced from me to Dirge, then back again. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but, uh, he’s unwilling to leave your side. And anyone who tries to separate you two is in danger of meeting the business end of those canines. Droolius Caesar is determined.”
“Are you ready to shift?” I met his gaze, lifting my chin in challenge when I delivered the question.
He dropped his eyes, and my broken heart turned to shards. Tiny fragments that could blow away with the faintest wind.
“Then I don’t need you by my side this evening,” I said, the words leaving me hollowed out.
He threw back his head and howled, the mournful sound raising the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck.
Gael appeared from his position by the nearest building. “I can see him to a room.” The offer was a pleasant surprise, and I nodded, even as Leigh tensed at my side. I gripped her fingers tighter.
“Thank you, Gael. You can take him to whichever room I’m assigned to.”
He nodded and turned, not wasting any time, but Dirge hesitated. I wouldn’t meet his eyes this time, keeping mine firmly fixed on the inoffensive blades of grass that were tinged silver by the moon.
“Come on, then,” Gael murmured to the wolf. “She’s not going to change her mind.” Then, more quietly, he added, “Neither of them is.”
I could tell he didn’t mean for us to hear that last part, uttered under his breath. But we did, and Leigh leaned against me as if I were a raft, and she was adrift at sea.
The two of us were quite a pair as we watched the men we shouldn’t love walk away into the night.
SEVENTEEN
Dirge
My mate rejected me. She finally shifted. We shared that time together. At last, we were equals.
And her response was to reject me.
I’d always known I was unworthy. But her confirmation of it cut deeper than any blade.
I sat in her room and howled until my throat was raw. And then I howled some more, my pleas to the Moon Goddess falling on deaf ears.
Mercy wasn’t mine to have.
Not now, not ever.
And so I howled, and nursed a broken heart.
EIGHTEEN
Shay
Brielle jumped to her feet and hugged us when we arrived at the feast, and I knew then I’d made the right decision. Her face was flushed in the firelight, eyes glowing with her wolf. It was a rare sight, and I started to believe what they said about Inuksuk’s people. They were closer to nature, to the powers that drove our shifter sides. My eyes skimmed the gathered crowd, and relief washed over me at not seeing Iaoin among those seated at the long, wooden tables. We feasted under the moon, on more dishes than I could count. Some familiar, some not.
All delicious.
Ilana came to our table and personally apologized to me for her brother’s actions. Apparently, they rarely saw female shifters outside their own pack, and Iaoin had been unable to attend the great pack gathering due to his training to take over Inuksuk’s duties.
“He’s getting older, feeling territorial, and a bit put out that he missed the opportunity to meet his mate. If you ask me, he’s grasping at the wind, and father should send him to the city for a while. His mate is out there somewhere, but it’s clearly not you,” she said with an eye roll.
“Clearly not,” I agreed, for lack of anything else to say to the fountain of information. I was often uncomfortable in conversation with new people and tongue-tied. Thankfully, Ilana held the conversation quite well on her own.
“I don’t mean it offensively, of course, but you’ve already got a fated mate. Stealing you wouldn’t fill the hole in his chest. Our males all face the same fate, though. Venture out into the wider world on hope, or stay here and grow old, never finding a she-wolf to bond with. It’s a lonely life that stretches before him, but duty ties him here more than most. My father grows frail with the years, and he’s insistent that I not be the one to carry on the family tradition.” She frowned then, looking toward the endless, dark wood.
“That must be painful for you. To be passed over.”
Her head snapped around to where I sat, the stiffness in her shoulders making me antsy. Had I overstepped? I cast around for Leigh or Brielle, but they’d been pulled into a deep conversation with an older couple, each dandling a giggling young pup on their knees.
“Most people don’t see it that way,” she finally admitted, finally letting her shoulders droop. “It’s always been a male healer. A male tribal leader. A male
Alpha. But Iaoin and I are twins. He’s technically the same age that I am, save for a few minutes my junior. And yet, he’s still green. I’m capable. I’m steady. I’m not hungering for a mate, despite my nearly five hundred years on this earth.” She clenched her fist and dropped it angrily to the table. A sharp crack of wood splintering came from the table in response. She immediately flattened her palm over it, looking sheepish for the slip-up.
“My apologies. This is not your burden to bear. You are here for your friend’s healing, not to hear my woes.” She ducked her head and made to leave. I don’t know why I did it, but I reached out, putting my hand over hers. It was a hundred percent out of my comfort zone, and I immediately second-guessed the physical touch with such a new-and important-acquaintance.
“It’s okay. Sometimes you need to share a burden rather than hold it alone.” I offered a small smile, which she returned, and then withdrew my hand.
“Thank you. Wine?” She waved at someone walking around with a pitcher, and her pack mate hurried over.