Chapter 10 Rada
RADA
“You’re wearing my pelt, goddess. Why are you wearing my pelt?”
The voice drew me from a dream I’d had for years, where I was swimming along the bottom of a trench in the ocean, until hands gripped me and pulled me up, flinging me above the waves and into the sky, where the wind carried me to more hands and then to the moon itself.
Only this time, another pair of hands was pulling on an ash-gray garrote wire that twisted past the horizon, keeping me from the moon.
But the dream dissolved just like ash. I stretched and yawned, luxuriating in the softness of the blankets beneath me, the cushion to my right, and the warm, firm body that lay on my left.
Body. A warm, very male, very hard, and growing harder by the second, body.
“Oh, shit.” I sat up. “Kellin, ah… Hello. You’re alive.” I still had my shirt on, though the rest of my clothing was at the bottom of the bed by my feet. That didn’t surprise me; when I fell asleep clothed, I often took something off. I suppose I was lucky I’d only shucked off my trousers.
Or unlucky. Kellin had on his trousers, but his shirt was off, and the expanse of gleaming, light brown skin made my mouth water and my nipples perk up, wondering how it would feel to press them against that smooth skin.
My eyes slid lower to where the very solid jut of an interested part of his anatomy was visible though his trousers, the darker-hued head peeking out the waistband in a decidedly friendly manner.
I licked my lips and squeezed my thighs together, my perfume already filling the room and mingling with his.
Shit. This was definitely not a sibling blood bond.
“Mate?”
I hated being right all the time. “Um, yeah. My name is…”
“Ratter?”
I blinked. I didn’t need to be Ratter anymore. The one I’d been hiding my name from all these years had already found me. “Call me Rada.”
His lips curled up in a warm smile. “Rada suits you.”
I snapped my eyes to his face. His cheeks were ruddier than they had been, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled. His eyes were black, with a hint of purple in them, and I chewed at my lip for a moment. “Sorry about the smell,” I lied. “So I may have accidentally poisoned you. Ah, lethally.”
The smile faded. “You were trying to poison my brother?”
“Not intentionally,” I explained as he pushed himself up on his arms, making all the muscles on his abs stand out like ripples on the surface of a… Oh my Goddess, so many ripples. Why had my mouth gone completely dry? I licked my lips again.
“Ripples?” His voice was quieter, but there was a thread of humor in the word.
I’d spoken out loud? How annoying.
I wasn’t ashamed of being attracted to this much abdominal goodness, but this wasn’t the time to ogle him. I had to wait at least, what? A day? Twelve hours, minimum. Then I could lust openly.
“Yeah, no. I mean, I was completely in the wrong to poison your brother. But accidents happen. Let’s let bygones be… By the Goddess, did you just unveil another line of abs? Where were you hiding them all?”
“Accidents happen?” Speaking made the rippling faster.
To the hells with the timeline. I couldn’t have removed my eyes from his hypnotically muscular, perfect form with a steel pry bar. That his cock was still winking out his waistband at me was just another benefit, with a tiny droplet of moisture at the tip that had me licking my lips again.
But I was growing slick, too, and that was a dangerous move to make before we’d talked about the whole possible blood mating.
And my inconvenient vow of Alpha-celibacy.
So I shifted, discreetly moving a fur blanket between my bare legs and pressing it into my core, relieving some of the tension with pressure.
“That’s ah, that’s my, ah…” he stammered. “That’s my…” He was going an even deeper shade of brown, as if all the blood had rushed to his head. Well, what wasn’t already thickening the solid head at his waistline.
I forced myself to smile and stare into his panicked eyes. “I need to explain. I didn’t mean to try to kill your brother. It’s a long story, but I more or less went the Omega version of feral when I saw him rubbing on my mate.”
His voice was a rasp when he asked, “Mate? You mean Goran?”
Another fucking slip of the tongue. “Fine, husband. Ex-husband! When Goran told me he lived with an Omega, I assumed a female. I was ready for a woman, I swear. I would never attack an Omega. I’ve spent my life protecting Omegas.”
“But you did attack him,” he said, disappointment in his tone. I hated that more than anger. Fuck, I’d rather he punched me.
“I didn’t kill him,” I argued weakly.
“You tried to. It was your first instinct.” He slid out of the bed, wobbling on his feet. “Why didn’t you ask who he was, or what their relationship was? He would have told you, Rada.”
I swallowed hard, tasting the familiar cocktail of guilt and shame that surged up with a hint of bile at his words. “I have a habit of—” The door opened, though no one had knocked.
The Omega finished my sentence. “Stabbing first and asking questions later?”
I smiled weakly. “Ah, hey there, Omega.”
“Lachlan,” he corrected before he went to stand beside his brother at the window. He didn’t even glance at me. “I would say to make yourself at home, but I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.”
“Lachlan, no.” Kellin made an odd sound, then grasped his brother’s forearms.
The two spoke in low tones, in the selkie language I’d heard Stellina use a few times, obviously concerned for each other.
They were the same height, and their features were close enough that they could be mistaken for twins, but Lachlan was full of brash energy, barely contained, and Kellin was the opposite. Quiet and thoughtful.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though neither one acknowledged the weak apology. So I picked up my boots and the fresh pair of trousers that were in a tidy pile by the door next to my bags and cloak, dressed quickly, then slipped out with all my worldly possessions in my hands and a heavy heart.
It was a shame he’d been saddled with me as a mate. What I’d been ready to admit to Kellin was that I had a habit of hurting the people I loved.
I stepped into the yard, the late afternoon sun warm on my face. “Warqueen?” Dustin stood at attention at the door, a small tent set up only a few paces from the front door. He’d slept outside, obviously. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell the others I’ve gone to the privy.”
“Yes, Warqueen,” he replied with a salute, but his eyes were on the packed saddlebags over my arm.
I sighed, then fished in my cloak for a small bottle. “Put this on your clean face every night, two drops, after washing.”
He trembled. “Of course, Warqueen.” He was acting like I’d given him poison, instead of something to clear up his skin. I suppose it was a fair reaction.
“Where is my valet?”
“Ah, my lady, he’s at the camp.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not supposed to go back to the camp. I cut my warrior’s braid. They won’t welcome me.”
Damnit. I’d need to figure out some place for him to go.
I walked toward the privy house I’d noted the day before, then slipped into the wooded area behind it.
I’d stolen a beautifully drawn map of the area from one of Goran’s generals, and as I walked, I used it to plot my course and committed the landmarks to memory.
I needed to get on my way before I fucked up any harder, or collected any more mates I’d have to reject, or other disgraced Starlakian boys.
Time to find Alexios and get out of Starlak.
The war camp had been set up a five-minute walk away from the house, just behind the trees that bordered the rocky beach, and I followed the sounds of shouting, excited warriors to the center of it.
To his credit, one of the sentries went on alert when I approached, but the sounds of the waves rolling the stones and the chattering of two squirrels in the salt cypress trees distracted him long enough for me to slip past. The other sentries were too far away to see me, and most of the camp was focused on the main attraction.
I was upwind of them all, though, with my back to the beach, which worried me a bit. I wrapped my cloak around me, trusting the icy sea wind to disperse my scent as it bloomed.
And it bloomed like an Omega in her first heat when I managed to get a clear view. It was like I’d stepped into a fantasy.
Goran and Alexios faced each other, barefoot and shirtless, sweat gleaming on their chests and arms, with a ring of warriors on their knees around them in a wide circle.
Alexios had on the cream-colored, skimpy loincloth he wore under his robes.
I’d made it a habit not to stare at him for too long—he was my best friend, had never once shown any interest in me, and to top it all off, he was my valet.
I took this chance to ogle him as he deserved, and as I’d wanted to more than once.
He was perfect, his body honed and his skin almost a golden shade of pale brown.
I traced an invisible path with my gaze from his lean calves to his corded thighs, the muscles rippling as he stood on the bare earth, then up his back to his neck where his long, dark hair was tied in a clubbed knot.
I couldn’t see his face, but his laughter carried over the wind.
“Come on then, Warlord. I’ve heard so many stories. Those can’t be your best moves.”
Goran stood a few paces in front of him, his cheeks red over his beard and a wild gleam in his blue eyes, but he was almost as amused.
“You’re not fighting so much as ducking.
Stand still and let me hit you.” His long, golden hair streamed down his neck and wide shoulders, the small braids swinging as he moved around, preparing for his next attack.