The night of the king’s dinner…
Eilam made his way through the bevy of dinner guests on his last sweep of the castle. He tugged at the tight collar of his tuxedo shirt, trying to get a little space. As a member of the party, he would be expected to dine with the king and the guests, all while trying to keep a watchful eye on the king’s guard—all in a tux. He spoke briefly to a few members of the court as he passed, and even saw his brother, Max, along with Max’s husbands.
Best to avoid that conversation. His elder brother could be a huge pain in the ass. Max was the one who’d tapped him for his current position—one Max had originally held. Max had wanted to move into the more lucrative corporate security business within Midnight to rebuild their family’s fortune. Max now wanted his help in the corporate world and had spoken at length of having one of their brothers, Judah, take his position.
And take him away from the king.
Not happening.
Eilam focused on his duties for the night and not all the drama surrounding him. He was on his way to check in with one of the guards, Valen, when he was stopped.
“Good evening, Eilam,” Tremayne, one of the king’s distant cousins said.
“Good evening.”
Lord Tremayne smiled. “I don’t think you’ve met my husband, Jean Pierre.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Eilam said, offering a hand to a beautiful, slim male who, if Eilam was correct, had to be an incubi. He felt a blast of sexual energy sent his way and was suddenly sure of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jean Pierre made no effort to hide his admiring gaze. It moved up and down his body as he gripped Eilam’s hand tight. “Tremayne didn’t tell me just how handsome you were. Had I known, I would’ve come to court much sooner.”
“This one is taken, my pet,” Tremayne said, lifting one delicate brow. “He has a mate. And will I have the honor of meeting your mate tonight?”
Is that a fishing expedition, trying to find out if the rumors are true? “I’m unmated,” Eilam murmured.
Jean Pierre moved closer and trailed a hand down Eilam’s chest. “Oh, but you’ve met your mate, haven’t you, bear shifter?”
Eilam tried to back away slightly, confused. “Why do you say that?”
“You wouldn’t be able to see anyone but me had you not already met your mate,” the incubi whispered, before spreading a palm over Eilam’s chest. “That bond makes it harder for me… but I love a good challenge.”
Eilam took another half-step back, trying to clear himself from the tangle of Jean Pierre’s hands. He lifted his stare to Tremayne. “I do have a brother bear, Noah, and no—he is unable to attend tonight.”
Tremayne’s brow rose again in an overdramatic expression. “Oh, that’s right—I forget you bears travel in threes. Your brother bear. I’m sorry to hear he won’t be here tonight. I’m starting to think you’re hiding him away from us.”
“If he’s half as handsome as Eilam, I could understand why,” Jean Pierre said, moving closer to Eilam again.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to meet him some day,” Eilam said, pulling his hand from Jean Pierre’s grip. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone he’d much prefer to be talking to—Midnight’s lone dragon shifter, Solomon. Honestly, almost anyone would’ve been better than his current company. “I’m sorry, there’s something I must attend to. I’m doing double duty tonight. If you’ll excuse me.”
He quickly escaped the cloying warlocks and had a quick word with Valen. Once he was satisfied the castle’s security was running smoothly, he eyed Solomon again. The dragon was staring upwards at the steps, a dreamy look on his face. Eilam checked the stairs, seeking the source. Hart, one of the humans who’d recently arrived in Midnight, was descending. He was also the guest of honor for the night, a human, although the king was sure the man also had some natural abilities. The king had taken a liking to the newfound witch and given him a suite in the castle.
Hart likely wouldn’t be staying long. His fate appeared to be leading him elsewhere.
If Eilam guessed right, Solomon was Hart’s mate. From the look on the dragon’s face, he was almost certain he was right.
But he’d also sensed Hart was bound to Garret, one of the king’s guards.
Which would cause some problems, to be sure. Garret and Solomon were not friends. Nowhere close. Eilam wasn’t sure how that would ultimately pan out.
Just as he neared the dragon, a trumpet sounded. Eilam paused, as was custom, and watched as the king made his way down the stairs. Several members of court strode before him… blocking Eilam’s view, but then he caught his first glimpse of that violet stare. Eilam’s heart began to beat a little faster, as it always did when the king was near.
His body quickened, no matter how hard he willed it not to. Months of being denied had begun to take a toll on him. He admonished himself mentally, demanding that he look away. But like a fly caught in a spider’s web, he was powerless to stop the need that slammed into him.
As usual, the king had dressed the part. He seemed to love wearing outlandish clothing. Perhaps it was the attention he received from it. Tonight, he wore a velvet tunic and doublet over hose. He looked like he’d just walked out of the middle ages… but then, parts of his castle were of the same style, one the king seemed to appreciate.
It was much different than the more modern style Eilam and Noah favored.
All told, the king could’ve been wearing rags, for all he cared. No matter what, Adriel, son of Theral, would be the most handsome male in any room. As the king met his stare across the bannister, Eilam felt his body tense all the more. Those violet eyes held his, making it nearly impossible to breathe. His bear roared deep within, but the sound seemed to grow weaker as time passed.
A shifter, denied his mate too long, would slowly begin to wither.
Eilam dragged his gaze away, sensing the king would be the death of him.
Remembering his duty for the night, he moved his stare to the two king’s guardsmen, Garret and Cannon, who trailed behind their monarch. One at a time, they met Eilam’s gaze, nodding that all was well. Eilam slowly spun away, trying to ignore his king as best as possible. His body—and the shifter spirit within him—couldn’t take much more.
Turning his attention to Solomon, he saw the dragon wore the same look the male had given Hart. But he was now eyeing Garret. Eilam smiled, curious at what he was now seeing. Solomon and Garret had always appeared to hate one another. Was there more to the ire between them? Attraction disguised as ire?
Or would the two of them tear one another apart in their mad desire for Hart? Not that he made a habit of getting into his employees’ and friend’s personal lives, but the king’s guard was already understaffed. He didn’t need Garret’s focus elsewhere.
Life would be so much easier without dealing with mates, he sometimes thought. His life would certainly be less stressful without his.
The dragon’s attention was so rapt, he hadn’t even seemed to notice Eilam’s approach. He smiled to himself. He liked the dragon. Solomon was a good man who deserved happiness. “He looks good in his armor, doesn’t he?” Eilam murmured lowly.
Solomon turned. “I was looking at our king.”
Eilam chuckled. “No. You weren’t.” He turned to look at the scene before them. While he wanted to be closer to their king, he didn’t mind being left out of the pageantry. That was the only good thing about the stinging denial. Again, his thoughts forced his stare to fall on the king.
His body stiffened with a need he struggled to control more and more each day.
“Why were you watching me when your own mate was coming down the stairs?” Solomon asked.
Eilam’s jaw clenched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Solomon smiled to himself. “See—we all have lies we tell ourselves to make it through the day. Leave me to mine and I’ll leave you to yours.”
Was he that transparent or had the dragon read his mind? “That won’t change the fact that you and Garretson are at each other’s throats, demanding the chance to win your mate.”
“And your point?”
“Dragons aren’t known for their skills at sharing… but perhaps you could gain more if you tried it.” He hated playing cupid, but he had a job to do. A war between his guard and the dragon would only waste time.
Solomon continued to stare at Garret another moment. He then turned his stare to see Hart in the crowd, watching him from afar.
“You’re right. Dragons don’t share.” Solomon stalked away, his irritation evident.
That went well.
Eilam had no luck in his own love life. Whatever had made him think it was possible to coax others in the right direction was beyond him.
He turned… and Jean Pierre was suddenly beside him again. The incubi shoved a glass of Elvish wine into his hand. “I thought you could use a drink,” the male cooed as he moved in close.
“Eilam, there you are,” a voice called out loudly, through the crowd.
He turned and saw the mass of guests part. The king stared in his direction from halfway across the room. One eyebrow cocked higher as the monarch glared at Jean Pierre. The guests had quieted and turned a watchful eye to what would transpire between them.
“May I be of service, Your Majesty?” He bent slightly at the waist and pushed Jean Pierre slightly away.
The king took a few steps closer. He lifted his chin and eyed Jean Pierre down his nose. “I was hoping you would serve as my escort for the evening.”
Eilam eyed the man, wondering if this was some sort of twisted joke. When he saw the look in the king’s eyes, he sensed there was something twisted, but it was no joke. The warlock simply wanted to torment him.
Or is he jealous?
He tried to keep the smile off his face as he bowed again. “It would be my pleasure, sire.”
The king lifted a hand in the air, silently demanding Eilam’s arm.
While Eilam would’ve rather made the king wait a moment as punishment, he didn’t want to linger too near Jean Pierre. He gave the glass in his hand a peek, and realized it could’ve been laced with anything. He wouldn’t put it past the handsy incubi. After placing the glass of wine on a side table, he moved to the king and offered an arm.
The monarch placed a warm hand on Eilam’s arm and gave Jean Pierre another cold glare before he glanced up with a soft smile. “I need to welcome the rest of my guests. Come, Eilam. We mustn’t keep them waiting.”
Eilam led the king about the room, stuck between heaven and hell.
So close, yet he might as well have been miles away.
* * * *
Later that night, Adriel drained his eleventh glass of wine before a servant came round to refill it once more. He gave a quick glance to the bear shifter at his side and knew there would be a dissatisfied look on the male’s face. Of course, he wasn’t disappointed. The scowl on Eilam’s face was exactly as expected. His head of security did not like it when Adriel drank to excess, and had often commented that it was unsafe for a male of his standing to lose control.
It never stopped him, not one bit. He wasn’t a drunkard. He didn’t get blasted each night, but on special occasions, such as this, he would over-imbibe all he wanted. The stress of ruling the kingdom had to be balanced somehow.
Sex had often been his go-to distraction, but since Eilam had come into his life, he’d been unable to look at another man, let alone think of bedding one.
So wine, it was.
His uncle, Ralnur, lifted a glass. “This meal was one of the best I’ve had in some time. A toast, to our magnificent sovereign and host.”
Adriel stared down the table, wondering if that was another little dig from the man. Ralnur and Eilam were cut from the same cloth and seemed to enjoy ruining any fun he had.
A round of hear, hears came as other glasses were lifted and then drained. Adriel nodded to his uncle, thankful for the kind words. Adriel took another drink as he stared down the table. His cousin, Varian, was at his uncle’s side and whispering into Ralnur’s ear.
He didn’t trust Varian any farther than he could throw the warlock… how his irritating cousin had come from such a fine father, Adriel didn’t know. Ignoring his brattish cousin, he turned to Hart, his guest of honor.
“How was your meal?”
“Delicious.” The human’s face told another story.
Adriel grinned, knowing the human palate was quite different than a witch’s. But Hart had natural abilities, which meant there was a bit of witch in him. A meal of traditional food was just the thing to draw out more of that side of the man.
The king turned to Eilam, a smile on his face. “And you, my bear? How did you like this dinner?”
Eilam gazed over, light filling his eyes. Shifter eyes lit when they felt a strong emotion. What emotion was Eilam feeling now, he wondered.
I’d love to get him alone and ask.
I’d love to get him alone and no say any words at all.
Adriel shifted in his seat, his body quickening from his errant, wine-fueled thoughts.
“It was very fine,” the bear shifter murmured lowly. “But I still find myself… hungry.”
Adriel met Eilam’s stare. It showed him exactly what the man hungered for. Heat flooded his body, his cock quickly getting on board with that idea. He took a long drink from his glass and smiled.
“I believe it is time to say goodnight to our guests,” the king said. He rose to his feet and smiled down the length of the table. Everyone at the table stood, as well. “I have enjoyed this night tremendously, but find myself in need to rest. I bid you all a fine evening.” He drained the last of his glass and tossed the crystal against the fire behind him.
Adriel then cast a look to Eilam and lifted his hand, seeking an arm to steady him. Eilam moved in close, his scent filling Adriel’s nose.
The shifter swept him from the room, followed by his two guardsmen. Halfway up the stairs, a voice called, making him pause in his escape.
“Might I have a moment to speak with you,” Varian called out.
“It can wait until morning,” Adriel said, before eyeing Eilam. He had needs that needed fulfilling. “I’m quite… tired.”
“Please,” Varian called out. “It’s important.”
“Make an appointment with my secretary,” Adriel called down before gliding up the stairs.
They quickly reached the door to his suite, which was shielded by two more of his guards.
As they arrived, Eilam turned to Garretson and Cannon and dismissed them, leaving the two at the door. He opened the entrance into Adriel’s room and moved out of the way. “Your Majesty.”
Adriel lingered at the door a moment and looked up at Eilam. He’s so handsome. So very handsome. “I have… something I wish to speak with you about before you leave.”
Eilam’s stare darkened before the light returned full force.
The king led Eilam inside and closed the door behind him. He leaned back on the door and a snicker escaped him.
“I’ve had too much to drink tonight.”
If the witch surrenders… Adriel pushed the thought from his mind. He could fuck the bear without being claimed.
“You know it’s dangerous for you to overindulge.”
“Yes, yes, Eilam, I know your thoughts on drinking too much wine. Stop being a buzzkill.” He walked over to where Eilam stood in the middle of the room and stopped mere inches away. Heat emanated from the man’s big, muscled body. What has he got under this tuxedo? Craning his neck back to look up, he gawked. “You’re much too big, do you know that?”
“Is this what you needed me to come into your private rooms to discuss?”
“Well, you claim I am your mate, but we don’t fit. You’re much too big. You tower over me by at least a foot.”
“More than a foot.”
Adriel’s mouth fell open. “Just how tall are you?”
“Six-eleven.”
“Much, much too big.” Adriel lowered his head, realizing his head only came to the bottom of Eilam’s chest. This close, he had a perfect view of the hard cock pressing against the man’s pants. “Everything on you is too big.”
Adriel had the sudden urge to see just how big. He reached out for the zipper, but his wrist was grabbed before he could get to what he wanted. Lifting his head, he frowned up at the bear shifter. “I thought you wanted me?”
“I do.” Eilam paused. “But not like this.”
“Like what?”
“Drunk and not in control of yourself.”
Adriel pulled his hand away and tried again. Eilam was too quick for him. “I am in control. Promise. Let me show you just how much control I have.”
“You need to sleep off some of that wine. Let’s get you into bed.”
“Are you coming with me?” Adriel asked with a grin.
“No,” Eilam said before lifting the king into his arms.
Again, heat slammed into Adriel. He was deposited in the middle of the bed and his doublet and shoes were pulled off. The bedding was pulled back and Eilam tucked him in.
“Get those clothes off and get in.”
“No,” Eilam said before laying the doublet over the back of a chair.
“I demand you take off that tux and get into my bed.”
Eilam sighed. “No.”
Adriel grew infuriated. He lifted one hand and let his magic accumulate there.
Eilam marched over and put his face into the king’s. “You know as well as I do that your magic does nothing to me. So put that away and go to sleep.”
How dare he speak to me thus. I should punish him for that. Adriel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eilam’s.
Eilam froze against him. Adriel re-absorbed his magic and lifted his hands to cup the sides of Eilam’s face, continuing the kiss.
After a moment, Eilam kissed him back.
Slow at first, but the fire between them quickly grew. Adriel felt more alive in that moment than he could ever remember. His heart thundered in his chest. His body shook with need.
“I want you, Eilam.”
Eilam again froze, his eyes closed. After a few seconds, he rose to his full height and looked down. “Tell me that when you’re not drunk and you can have anything you want. Anything.”
The shifter turned tail and left Adriel.
The king fell back to the soft bedding and stared up at the ceiling, his body raging with need. With one snap of the fingers, he went to where his Eilam wouldn’t say no.