Chapter Twelve
Dustin
The Harvest Moon Tribe
Dustin wasn’t used to people bowing when he walked by.
He was more used to being ignored, but he was beginning to think he might could get used to it.
People came up to them with sweet treats, warm cider, and fruits that shouldn’t be in season but were just as ripe and juicy as if they were.
Dustin had only been there a few hours and had yet to eat a full-course meal, but he’d been gifted so many delicious samples that he wasn’t hungry.
“Everyone here is so kind and thoughtful.” Dustin smiled and nodded to two women who’d stopped walking with baskets full of apples and dates and ducked their heads respectfully. “Where did they come from? Are the people of Fhomhair born here, or does everyone migrate here from elsewhere?”
Notalus squeezed his hand while they walked.
“Most are born here. Some are brought here by other gods and deities to be kept safe. Not everyone here is human—some are species that are no longer welcomed in other realms. The Cavalerie lands are sanctuaries for the oppressed and outcasts. A place the unwelcome can call home. The land of seasons is ruled by me and my three brothers. We determine what and who is allowed to enter… or leave.”
Dustin digested that information as they walked and walked until they were past the town of cottages and market stands, where people bartered with goods and services…
not money, just like within the pack lands.
Notalus pointed out the sanctuaries and hideaways where he used to go to escape his strenuous lordship duties as a young prince.
He would be gone for so long that his father would have to send the palace guards to find him.
Soon, the paved roads blended into a field of trees planted orderly in rows, its rusted foliage falling to the ground and creating a sound-pleasing blanket that crunched under Dustin’s boots.
“This is beautiful.” Dustin inhaled the damp earth that was void of any fertilizers or pesticides. There was only the fresh scent of rain, herbs, and sweet clovers in the air.
“It’s like this always,” Notalus bragged, his eyes glistening with pride as he strolled beside him, his robe dragging the ground and rustling the leaves behind them.
“A guy like me could get used to this.” Dustin sighed as Notalus led him to a bench that faced a calm stream. “I just feel so… so…”
“At home?” Notalus finished.
Dustin nodded as he turned and gave him his full attention. “Why is that?”
“It’s because you have a connection to this land through your ancestors.”
Dustin sat back and glanced over the serene land. “No one in my family has been here before, Notalus… I’m sure of it.”
“You have not physically been here in your lifetime, but you are a part of a great pack that once dwelled and thrived here. The goddess of grain and fertility called Consus was known for her excursions to the earthly realm. She met and fell in love with a lone shifter who lived off the lands in a remote part of the land humans called Peru, if the histories are correct. He imprinted on her soul during one of her frequent visits, and from that day on, Consus could not bear to leave him, not even for a day. So she brought her lover to Fhomhair during my father’s reign.
He gave them land, shelter, and protection as it was frowned upon in many realms for a goddess to betroth a mortal, especially one that is a shifter.
But they flourished in Tir an Fhomhair, and Consus gave birth to many offspring that she called her children of the grain, and their offspring gave birth to more alpha-demigods.
They were able to produce a great harvest and grow whatever their hearts desired.
Consus and her shifter husband lived for thousands of years in harmony before they died together in each other’s arms, their souls released into the very trees they planted. ”
“And their children?” Dustin was intrigued. “Where did they go?”
“Over time, they found their own way. Many went back to the earth realm, some stayed in Fhomhair, and some even mated with other species and lived on other worlds. Consus had an entire tribe that she called the Ierós—in the divine language, it means the sacred ones. Others have called her children the Harvest Moon Tribe as there was nothing her alpha descendants touched that did not grow in abundance. Her offspring were equal parts human/shifter/goddess. My father called them the Copii Cerealelor, the children of the grain.” Notalus ran the back of his thumb down Dustin’s cheek, gazing on him as if he was the beautiful specimen in the universe.
Dustin tilted his head to the dazzling orange moon rising high above them as dusk set in. “And you believe that I’m a lost descendant of that pack?”
“Not lost anymore… but yes, I believe it, and it is what I know,” Notalus contended. “When I encountered you on the Volkov lands last year, I could sense a part of Fhomhair inside of you, but I needed to do more research before I came to the conclusion.”
“Are you sure?” Dustin asked. He didn’t want to be told he was something that he wasn’t.
But by gods, it would explain why he’d never felt like a true member of any pack he’d joined, as if the other shifters sensed something different in him that wasn’t welcome.
So he’d been alone most of his life after his father died.
“I’m more than positive. Especially after you confirmed you were a stronger alpha than a zenith.
Consus only had alpha wolves, but they had the strength of the gods.
They were a peaceful pack that lived in harmony and never challenged her mate or each other.
The children of the grain were harvesters; they didn’t prosper on rank. ”
“This is insane. I didn’t have a big family, and the few relatives I knew of never mentioned anything about a relationship to a goddess.
My father didn’t know much about my mother besides she was a wealthy debutante.
A rebellious human girl that sought out my father on nights she wanted to rile her parents.
They hooked up a few times for about a year until she got pregnant.
My father wanted to make her his mate, but after she gave birth to me at nineteen, she thrust me into his arms with a quilt she had made and disappeared.
My father and I never heard from her again.
It was five years when my dad heard she’d married some fancy doctor her mama picked out.
I guess a life with a poor farmer wasn’t what she’d envisioned for herself. ”
“It was your father that was the descendant of Consus, and he may not have known his true heritage. The Copii Cerealelor spread out over the world years ago, before I was of age to rule. We always knew they were out there living amongst humans and working jobs like landscaping, building greenhouses, or working for nurseries. But I had never encountered one… until I met you.”
“I believe you.” Dustin inhaled deeply. “What you told me is my truth. And while I’ve never been here before, I feel it deep in my bones that this is where I belong.
But…” Notalus looked as if he was holding his breath as he waited for him to continue.
“Even though the Volkov pack never accepted all of me, I’ll still miss providing for them. I will miss Henry’s cooking.”
Notalus let out a relieved-sounding breath.
“You will not only be able to still provide for your packmates in the White Mountains, but you will be able to provide for the world, my handsome mortal. Anything produced in Fhomhair, we are free to share with the world. If you so desire orange sassafras in the state of Maine, so shall it be, my alpha.”
Dustin stared at Notalus because there was no way he was saying what it sounded like.
“You heard me right. I am the Lord of Autumn, and I have chosen you to be my consort. The harvest you choose to send to the earthly realm will not be debated by me or anyone else.”
“You’re telling me I will decide what is harvested, what is grown, and when?”
“Who are we to tell an alpha of the Harvest Moon Tribe what to grow? We will all be spectators to your greatness.”
“I was kinda wondering why in the hell you’d want me as a husband.” Dustin smirked. “I guess my questions have been answered.”
“It’s not only because you are part god and one of the sacred children of the grain. But you are also one of the sexiest, most generous men I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of men over my time, handsome.”
Notalus barely got the words past his lips before Dustin pulled him to his mouth and kissed him with all of the passion and appreciation he could muster.
All of his life, he’d felt like an outcast, a freak who loved being around plants more than he liked running with a pack.
Dustin was treated like a lesser wolf because he was an alpha that didn’t desire a pack.
He was big and imposing, with the temperament of an omega.
He never thought he’d find a mate now that he was over fifty, but fate had finally smiled down on him.
“Mmmm,” Notalus moaned into his mouth, climbing onto him and straddling his lap. He was so broad and confident, making Dusting shudder from the feel of his heavy weight pressing into him. “Stay with me, Dustin. I want this from you always. Marry me and be my consort. Be my alpha.”
Dustin growled in response, his wolf liking and agreeing with Notalus’ plea. He swept his tongue into Notalus’ mouth, shifting the kiss from soft to owning.
“Say yes,” Notalus begged, grinding on top of him and distracting him from the proposal. “Do not deny me.”
“I will never deny you,” Dustin panted as the kiss grew hotter, his cock swelling painfully in his light pants. He tangled his hands in Notalus’ long hair, curling his fists around the thick tresses to position his mouth how he wanted it across his own.