CHAPTER ELEVEN
Urho sat by the fire in his library, swirling a glass of bourbon and watching flames lick the grate. On the desk behind him, there was a vase of roses, delivered that evening with a note from Xan.
I promise, was all the note read, but that had been enough to get him hard.
The roses’ scent drifted to him, a constant reminder of the man he missed already, though they’d had barely enough time together before he’d gone. Closing his eyes, he savored the taste of the liquor on his tongue and let his mind go blessedly blank. The day had been yet another long one.
After saying goodbye to Xan and Caleb on the platform, he’d driven away confused by his own heart. His face, when he’d glimpsed it in the rearview mirror, was relatively the same, but his priorities seemed to have realigned entirely in the course of a week. The last normal day he could remember, when he’d last felt like the Urho that Riki had left behind, was the day before he’d been called to Jason and Vale’s house to confirm what they both already knew—that a babe was on the way.
Ever since that moment, he’d been thrown off course, and he barely recognized the thoughts that preoccupied him now, the commitments that he’d made, or the feelings that drove him.
“Sir,” a quiet voice said from the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but may I have a word?”
Urho waved Mako forward. His longtime beta servant, chef, and not-quite friend stood anxiously by the fire until Urho gestured for him to take a seat. He was looking good in middle-age, with only a little gray at his dark temples, and a few fine wrinkles by his eyes. He wore his usual chef’s uniform over his pudgy stomach, and a kind smile.
“I don’t want to offend, sir, but I wanted to ask if everything was all right. The other day, when your small alpha friend came by, there was…” Here he broke off, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “I believe the other servants misunderstood what took place. Because while rumors have long swirled about your friend’s proclivities, you have always been far too law-abiding and fastidious in your person to have done anything improper. Right, sir?”
Urho swirled the bourbon again and waited for the rush of disgust and fear that should have filled him at having been discovered in his perversion and gossiped about by his own servants. It didn’t come. Instead, a strange twitter of excitement filled his chest, and he had to hold back a sudden smile, for fear of frightening Mako.
“I apologize,” Mako said, swallowing hard and rubbing his hands over his pants. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want you to believe that I had anything to do with this nasty gossip, sir. Or that I would spread it.”
“Part of working in my home,” Urho began carefully, “has always been the guarantee that you’re working for an honorable man. I pay you on time. I give bonuses for the Autumn Nights holidays. I provide extra days off when needed.”
“All of those are very honorable things,” Mako agreed, leaning forward obsequiously. “I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I wanted only to—”
“But I am not a perfect man. There are times when the scriptures don’t make sense to me. There are actions I have taken, both personally and as a doctor, that don’t always fit into the…let us call them expectations of the world at large and the Holy Church of Wolf in particular.”
Mako ducked his head.
“If you or any of the other servants have a problem working for me now that my imperfection is known, then I suppose I have no other choice than to offer a fair sum as a parting gift, seeing as the fault is mine, and look for servants who may not care so deeply about the personal failings of their employer.”
“And who may not be so loyal,” Mako was quick to put forth. “If, sir, this is your way of saying that there are to be more visits from the small alpha and, if this is your way of saying that we should be prepared to ignore or offer vague but believable replies to any questions about him, then let me assure you, I for one, and all of the others working here will be willing to protect you.”
“I see.” A whisper of gratitude slipped through him.
“We’re betas, sir. The rules don’t make as much sense to us. I approached you as I did mainly because of a concern that you yourself would be offended and angered if you found out what the others here were thinking. If you’re entertaining the, ah, well, the young alpha, then we’ll go about our business as usual and see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing.”
Urho sighed, taking another sip of his brandy. “I feel as though I should chastise you for your lack of concern regarding your employer’s adherence to the law and the Holy Book of Wolf, but given my own position, that seems absurd.”
“When we will see the young man again, sir? I can prepare something special for him. You could have a quiet night in together.”
“You’re trying a bit too hard now, Mako.” Urho grimaced. “I’m not angry with you for asking. It’s a good reminder that I won’t always find easy acceptance should this continue, and I should be more careful.” Though he had barely seen Xan at all. Being more careful than they had been already seemed impossible.
Mako spoke eagerly, “Or you should design a good reason to interact regularly and in private with him, sir. Something beyond a simple friendship, perhaps. A partnership that has to do with your clinic work, maybe.”
“We don’t have to worry about that for some time,” Urho said with a hint of gloom. “He’s gone away to Virona indefinitely.”
Mako frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”
“I am too.”
“But given the complications of such an arrangement, maybe it’s for the best.”
“Perhaps.”
“Though I’d hoped…”
“What?”
“That maybe you could be happy again, sir. If you came to care for him.”
Urho grunted, an absurd gratitude for his beta servant’s care welling in him.
Mako rose and nodded once in deference. “I’ll be leaving you now, sir, if that’s all right with you. Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do to make things easier.”
Urho nodded for Mako to go and considered picking up the phone to call Yosef for legal advice on how to best protect Xan and Caleb. Especially since he had no plans to stop indulging in his desire to know more of Xan’s body and mind whatever chance he got.
He didn’t call, though.
With Xan hours away and their plans to meet half-formed, there was no need to rock that boat quite yet. He shifted his gaze from the fire up to the dark portrait above him, barely able to make out Riki’s golden hair in the gloom. Xan didn’t compare, not really.
And yet to Urho, he was breathtaking—beautiful in an entirely different way than Riki. For the first time in what felt like centuries, Urho was ready to risk a lot for what might turn out to be a little. Or perhaps Xan could turn out to be his whole world.
He finished his brandy and headed upstairs. He entered the room where he kept his memories of Riki and lit a stick of incense, saying a few prayers to wolf-god for his beloved.
Then he added on a prayer for Xan.