Werewolf's Way [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 1] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (20 page)

“But we can’t even use our real names,” Caelyn argued, finally finding his words.

“I know,” Graham said, his voice trembling a little as he lifted the ring in his palm. “But what does it matter? We can start a new life, angel. We might have met as Graham Powers and Caelyn Sutharlainn, and we’re still those people, but we can love each other just as well as Graham York and Lincoln Farrington.”

Caelyn still watched him, trying to contain the wild beating of his heart. It didn’t help that Graham was growing increasingly anxious. “I’d planned to be much more suave about this,” the werewolf added, “to sweep you off your feet, as it were, but I simply can’t think when I’m around you.”

Emotion clogged Caelyn’s throat, choking him, keeping him quiet. For once, Graham misinterpreted his silence. With a sound of frustrated embarrassment, he fumbled with the ring, trying to pocket it again.

At that, Caelyn snapped out of his trance and quickly caught his mate’s hand. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. “Jenarra be praised, yes. I want to marry you.”

“Really?” Graham asked, his eyes widening.

Caelyn bit his lip, a little frustrated with himself. He kind of hated Graham’s expression of surprise, and he hated his own original reaction. In fact, he’d have liked to give Graham a token of his affection, too. “I don’t have a ring for you.”

“I took the liberty of getting a second one,” Graham admitted, “well two. For us to exchange at our wedding.”

It was likely the first time Caelyn had seen Graham blush. Technically speaking, by the way of the wolves, they were already bonded, but this would be a beautiful reinforcement of it. Happiness bubbled inside Caelyn, and he pounced on the werewolf, crawling into his mate’s lap.
“Ask me again,”
he whispered through their mate bond as he pressed his mouth to Graham’s.

Graham immediately took control of the kiss, and somehow still managed to inquire,
“Will you marry me, angel?”

“Yes,”
Caelyn said again.
“A million times yes. I want to be your husband, your mate, your lover. Forever.”

“Forever,”
Graham repeated.

As they surrendered to their passion once more, Caelyn knew that Graham had been completely right. They had left their past behind for a love that was their future. Now, they would build something new together, and they’d find their own way in life. Together, as two mates should always be.

A few weeks later

Youngsville, Vermont. Karein shook his head in bemusement as he read through the provided report. “Are you sure about this?” he asked his brother.

“As sure as I can be without actually going there,” Hareem answered. “So when are you going after them?”

Karein didn’t reply. He still hadn’t decided what to do about his elusive ex-fiancé. He’d never actually wanted to marry Caelyn Sutharlainn. The sprite was far too young and delicate to withstand the demands of being Karein’s anchor. He’d only agreed because he’d seen the chemistry between Caelyn and that damn werewolf. Anyone was better for Caelyn than that ninth caste mutt, even Karein.

And so, Karein had decided to keep the wolf under lock and key, knowing that Caelyn might attempt a rescue. He’d had a tentative plan of changing the prisoner’s location, but he simply hadn’t managed to do so in time. In fact, nothing had worked out the way he’d hoped.

Still, there was something in that wolf that seemed special. Graham Powers, that was his name, and Karein had chased him and the pack he led for years. He had been determined to keep him from getting to Caelyn at all costs. In fact, that night, he could have killed Graham with ease.

Why hadn’t he done so? He still wasn’t really sure himself. Perhaps he admired his foe’s bravery in facing him, or maybe some part of him had been touched by Caelyn’s strange dedication toward the wolf. The thought displeased him, but he wouldn’t have dwelled too much on it if now he hadn’t found himself reluctant to pursue the two fugitives.

“Any news on who helped them get away?” he asked his brother instead of offering a reply.

“The Sutharlainn have been pretty cooperative in that regard. All evidence points to the royal fae family.”

Of course it did. Because Karein’s life wasn’t already complicated enough. He had to worry about his former engagement breaking a tentative treaty that had lasted for generations before he’d even been born.

Karein stole a look at the painting hanging from his wall. He usually didn’t decorate much, but each of his offices had a piece of artwork depicting his ancestor, Prince Kaelezrin, with his mate, Talrasar.

Whenever Karein found his resolve faltering, he looked at those images and remembered everything that had been lost because of the lower castes. If he wanted to be honest, he’d never particularly liked the Directive, but he had his reasons why he considered it a necessary evil.

Right now, however, his ancestor’s legacy was truly in peril. If it ever came out that the Norrenddare family was behind Caelyn’s escape, Karein’s father would undoubtedly use the information to start a war against the fae.

“We can’t let Father know,” Karein told Hareem. “No matter what, that information has to be kept from him.”

Hareem frowned. “Brother, it’s not so easy. The Sutharlainn aren’t exactly secretive about it. They’re willing to blame anyone for their son’s deed, including the fae royal family. Well, a member of it, at least. Sareltae Norrenddare. Apparently, he and Caelyn were great friends growing up.”

“Sareltae…” Karein said the musical name out loud, trying to remember if he’d ever heard it before. “It doesn’t really ring a bell.”

“I imagine not. It seems he’s a bastard son, although he has a privileged position because his mother is the High Priestess of Jenarra.”

Karein groaned. He could only imagine the deep pool of intrigue he’d have to jump into if he ever touched that family with a ten-foot pole. “Don’t tell Father, at least, not unless he asks you outright. Avoid it as much as you can.”

“Father is not an idiot,” Hareem pointed out. “He has other sources and more spies than anyone else, including me. Likely he knows already. Besides, he is pissed at you for letting them get away in the first place.”

Karein glowered at his sibling. Sometimes, it seemed that Hareem’s favorite activity was to state obvious facts.

“I assure you he made that abundantly clear the last time I went to the palace,” he grumbled.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Karein, would you stop glaring at me? It’s not my fault you scare all your suitors away.”

Karein got up from his seat, making his brother’s eyes widen. “Errr… I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Hareem stammered.

Hadn’t he? Karein somehow doubted that. But it didn’t matter in the end. Hareem was completely right, regardless. Caelyn was the fourth failed engagement so far. Every time, men and women vied for his favor, seeking the privileges, wealth, and importance being his mate would naturally bring. They inevitably changed their minds once they got to know him a little better.

“Of course, this is the first time you were abandoned for a werewolf,” Hareem emphasized unhelpfully.

Karein took a deep breath as his dragon reared out of him. He angrily pulled it back, leashing it with the strength built up from a lifetime of discipline. This time, it yielded to his mastery, but how much longer would it submit to Karein’s reason? His two hundredth birthday was rapidly approaching, like a death sentence for him, and for many others.

“Stop saying useless shit,” he snapped at Hareem. “I don’t need you to piss me off on top of everything else.”

Hareem winced. “Sorry. It’s just…I don’t understand you, Karein. If you go get Caelyn and the mutt, you’ll calm Father down and that will be the end of it. We’ll manage to avoid the conflict with the fae.”

Karein snorted. “And you’ll succeed in drawing attention from yourself. I imagine it wouldn’t be good for you if Father learns what you’re hiding in your quarters.”

Hareem’s eyes flashed with icy anger. “Don’t play games with me, brother. You might be commander over the Wyverns, but I’m the heir apparent. You and I have always understood each other perfectly. We’re not friends. We are allies. So mind your own business, and I won’t ask you why the fuck you let the werewolf go that night.”

Of course Hareem had realized what Karein had done. He might not be the strategist Karein was, but they knew each other too well to have deception between them. Karein actually suspected that Hareem could one day become an outstanding emperor. For now, though, thinking about it or even mentioning it could be considered treason. Their father, Emperor Kavehquader, had no compassion for any shifter, and his children were no exception.

“It’s your ass on the line, not mine,” he replied, shrugging. “Just don’t think you can manipulate me.”

“This might be useful for me, I admit,” Hareem shot back, “but you have to realize that it is the only way. For the Overlords, brother, you’re the Dog-Catcher. Take the Wyverns and wipe those two off the face of the Earth. It’s the perfect solution.”

Karein plopped back down on his chair. “Leave me. I need to think on this.”

Hareem huffed, but stalked out of the office. Sighing, Karein buried his face in his hands. In hindsight, he should have known better than to order his brother around, but his dragon was still straining against the frayed edges of his control. All the while, he kept remembering Caelyn’s face as it had been that night, and Graham’s words as he lay in the grip of Karein’s power.
“You’re filth, Dog-Catcher, and that won’t ever change. No one will ever love you.”

Was it true? Was he doomed to never find his anchor and succumb to the very power that had made him so ruthless?

Once again, Karein looked at the painting of Talrasar and Kaelezrin. Kael was the last known dragon to have Karein’s powers. The irony of it was that he had found his mate and anchor in Talrasar, but they hadn’t lived to enjoy it. Did this magic come with a curse?

Perhaps. But if Karein was condemned to die, he’d make sure the alliance with the fae remained secured. At the very least, he could do that. In honor of the past and in hope for a better future, Caelyn Sutharlainn and his werewolf had to die.

* * * *

Graham bounced from foot to foot, looking at his watch. Caelyn was late. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he thought it was a terrible idea, after all?

“Relax,” Bill Liverman said by his side. “He probably got ambushed by your friends. I know Carol was very excited about it.”

Graham chuckled at the memory. It was true. When he and Caelyn had announced they were getting married, Caroline had squealed so loudly Graham could have sworn she had some dolphin-shifter genes. She’d hugged them both and immediately begun to make plans, including location, what they were going to wear, who was going to marry them, and so on and so forth.

Although Graham had originally planned to take care of everything himself, he found that the involvement of their new friends made both him and Caelyn happy. It made sense, in a way. He’d been Alpha once, and while he’d left those days behind, he still craved that togetherness, the feeling of belonging to something greater. Caelyn gave him that, but in a different way.

Therefore, Graham and Caelyn had ended up inviting all their human friends to their celebration. It would be a small wedding, with just a handful of people, but it suited them just fine. All the members of the Connors family were, of course, among the guests, along with Graham’s boss, Bill.

With Caroline’s help, they’d found the perfect venue, a small resort next to Montpelier, set in the middle of nature. A floral arbor overlooking a lovely lake would be the backdrop of the ceremonies. The staff had already placed seats for the guests, and the justice of the peace had arrived.

Only the second groom, Caroline, and Raleigh were missing. From the first row of the seats, James Connors tsked. “I swear, those kids are going to delay the entire ceremony.”

His wife, Beth, patted his hand comfortingly. “They’re romantic. They want it all to be perfect.”

James’s brother, Mark, snorted. “Nothing’s perfect, no matter how much you try.”

“Would you stop chattering?” Bill demanded, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “You’re making the groom even more nervous.”

For a man well into his fifties, Bill still looked very fit. A life working on cars had toned his muscles, making him appear stronger than people ten years younger. However, his hair had gone completely gray when his only son had gone missing in Afghanistan. He smoked a lot and spoke little, but he’d been very good to Graham and had immediately accepted being best man.

And as always, Bill was completely correct. Graham’s nerves were starting to get to him. He was very tempted to just use his mate bond with Caelyn to investigate his mate’s location, but Caelyn had made him promise he wouldn’t do so. Apparently, the sprite had prepared a few surprises of his own.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, a horse-drawn carriage pulled up on the hill and came to a halt. Graham’s breath caught as a vision of beauty stepped out of the vehicle.

Caelyn was wearing sprite-style robes. One shoulder was left uncovered, but the rest of his marble white skin was covered by the high-collared garment. The result was like a cross between an Indian sherwani and a Chinese cheongsam, hugging his body to perfection while keeping a strict, elegant cut. His eyes were lined with dark make-up, just like they had been when Graham had first seen him.