Prophesy 3: His Righteousness by A.E. Via
Adres had paced back and forth across the lush carpet in his new living quarters so much that it was practically threadbare. He lived in a nice cabin that was two and a half miles away from the main compound in the heavily shaded area of Justice’s territory.
Two miles too far away from the young wolf.
King Bentley had arranged for his personal guard, which included the Legion Special Forces and one hundred soldiers… and now a horseman, to live in the luxurious barracks that had more amenities than a four-star hotel. The officers’ homes were set up several yards away from the barracks, one cabin occupied by the Lord Protector and the other by him. It was a comfortable enough residence, but it was nothing compared to his Romanian home nestled within the Apuseni Mountains, but it would suffice.
He should try to close his eyes and slumber after tonight’s events, but he was still quite restless. He’d barely fed since he’d arrived last week, and as he sat at the foot of the plush bed, he realized his body was weary, but it was his mind that would not stop. He rubbed his bare chest, his fingertips grazing over ugly, puckered flesh. He had so many scars and blemishes he wondered how he had let his foolish head conclude that he may have found his cherished. Adres was hideous inside and out.
But he had wanted the beautiful wolf to see more.
Adres got beneath the gray silk sheets and pulled them up to his waist. The soft material felt nice on his legs, but he kept imagining what the thick ivory covers on Macauley’s bed felt like. He was so handsome and innocent while he’d slept.
Adres had entered Macauley’s warm home with every intention on telling him goodbye, but the closer he got to his overwhelming scent, to his bedroom, the more his mind screamed that he was doing the wrong thing. His body was telling him to run in the other direction and get as far away from this place as possible, but the emptiness in his heart propelled him forward. Until the only instinct he felt was to protect him at all costs. He’d stood over Macauley while he rested peacefully, his animal sensing no alarm, allowing him the few stolen moments to look his fill before he opened his eyes.
The moment Macauley had touched Adres’s chest, the buzzing under his skin had stopped. The urge to drop all of his shields and armor at the alpha’s feet had overwhelmed him until goose bumps had prickled over his skin like furry filaments from a dandelion. He had never felt such wholesome integrity or wanted to. He was tainted, his immortal soul lost forever. He did not deserve such goodness.
Yet there he lay wide-awake at the peak of the day, craving it.
Adres’s tongue was dry and swollen in his mouth, his throat parched from his hunger. He was still confused that the little blood he’d drank last night had had no taste and had given him no sustenance, yet he had been seconds away from sinking his fangs into Macauley’s throat each time he had growled in his face, the rich scent of his blood beckoning him. And it was not only Macauley’s blood that he craved, but it was also that frustratingly righteous energy that made…
“Futu-i.”Adres groaned, palming his heavy cock.
He stared down at his dick as if he had not seen it in years. He could not remember the last time he had. Sex or even getting off was something for young vampires just discovering their abilities or for the mated ones. Adres had resigned himself to a life of solitude. It was his destiny to selflessly provide for his people when all else failed them. That job was not possible to do with a mate, and after hundreds of years, he had assumed fate agreed.
He can’t be. Adres arched, his body burning at the memory of Macauley’s touch. He just can’t.
His mind rebelled at the idea, but his lower head pulsed far louder, causing him to groan into his fist. He refused to touch his dick. He could fight this.
Lubrication and elixir leaked from his slit onto his stomach. He trembled in shock, or maybe it was desire, he couldn’t be sure. He was three hundred and sixty-one years old, and no one had ever aroused him to hardness, to such ache, and they were not even in the room. It was the mere thought of Macauley that had him feeling as if he was fifty again and remembering what carnal excitement felt like.
Last night, Adres reveled in being reckless and furious. Being pinned against a tree by an imposing alpha, his naked body pressing so hard against Adres he could barely catch his breath. Macauley thrusting his delicious power into him—
“Ungh.” Adres jerked in surprise as his dick erupted, spewing his seed across his abs in wide arcs. He slammed his eyelids closed and gripped the covers at his sides as his body seemed to splinter into a thousand shards of ecstasy.
“Zeii,” he panted, his head spinning from the sensations.
His body apparently recognized his beloved, and maybe even a part of his heart did as well. But Macauley’s wolf would need to connect with Adres’s soul to recognize his mate… and it was most unfortunate that he had lost that part of himself long ago.