Prologue
Notalus
The End of a Season
“Father, are you expecting someone?” Theodor asked at the first notes of the herald’s trumpets announcing a visitor to their realm.
“No.” Notalus frowned.
A gust of frigid wind raced past them, blowing food and napkins off their dining table and across the gleaming floor.
Notalus had just enough time to fling his heavy robe around his alpha-mate, Dustin, before another powerful surge of cold shot through the courtyards, leaving dishes frosted over and a thin layer of ice in their water goblets.
Dustin growled, “Shit! What in the—”
“It’s okay.” Notalus lowered his shield from around them.
The temperature dropped to almost freezing, their breath now visible when they spoke.
“It’s him…” Theodor gritted out, leaving the room so fast his guards had to jog to keep up.
“It’s who?” Dustin rasped, taking in Theodor’s anxious reaction.
“It’s my brother Boraleashe. The Lord of the North Wind,” Notalus informed them. “He is here in Tir an Fhomhair.”
“‘Brother’?”
“Well, we’re not brothers in the human sense. We are brothers in arms, brothers of the seasons, horsemen. We are not brothers of blood or kinship. We inherited the titan title from our fathers, but when we came of age to rule, that is when we met the others—I mean each other.”
“Does Boraleashe visit often?” Dustin asked.
“No. He doesn’t.” Notalus led them out of his chambers. He didn’t know if Boraleashe stayed isolated and never visited because of his furious winds or his frozen heart.
“Shouldn’t your son be at your side?” Dustin murmured out of the corner of his mouth as they preceded their court toward the palace’s foyer.
“Yes,” Notalus answered between clenched teeth, “since he is the king now. Not me.”
The guards opened the doors, and Notalus led his royal subjects down the palace stairs and into the grand courtyard. The trumpets sounded again, and gray storm clouds blanketed the sky, causing another dramatic shift in the temperature.
Boraleashe appeared in the sky atop his pearl-white stallion, Frostreign, in a mirage of frozen rain and snow.
His robe was blizzard white and clasped around his neck with a sable fur collar, his armor shimmering like diamonds.
His wind was so cold it sounded like icicles falling on a frozen lake.
Boraleashe’s court trailed him by ground on their speckled Clydesdales, his viceroy paused in front to make his announcement.
“People of Tir an Fhomhair! All hail the Lord of the North Wind, Boraleashe Cavalerie, the last of the horsemen and harbingers of justice, the overseer of the Realm of Winter, and creator of the first frost. Titan and ruler of Tir an Amárach, the Arctic World.”
Boraleashe landed with the full force of his power, sending flurries and ice skating over the warm ground. Notalus’ people bowed, then tried not to gawk. Not because Boraleashe was the titan and lord of an element but because he was strikingly beautiful.
The bottom half of his blizzard-kissed, white hair flowed down his back and over the swell of his ass, while the top half was cinched and braided into an intricate pattern that reminded Notalus of a snowflake.
The iron gate to the palace grounds was pulled open, and Boraleashe sauntered inside on his impressive stallion.
His court stopped a respectable distance away until Boraleashe dismounted and closed the distance between them.
Notalus pulled Boraleashe by his forearm into a strong hug, happy but also a bit bewildered to see him.
“Brother, it has been too long,” Boraleashe said near Notalus’ ear, his voice chilling him.
“It has indeed.” Notalus released their grip and gestured to Dustin. “Boraleashe, allow me to introduce my—”
Boraleashe raised one of his immaculate white gloves. “Word journeys fast through the realms, Notalus. I know who you have chosen as your consort.” Boraleashe held his hand out to Dustin. “It is a great honor to meet the Alpha of the Moon Tribe.”
Dustin gripped Boraleashe’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you too, Lord Boraleashe.”
The nobles bowed and curtseyed as Boraleashe made his way down the court, greeting each one. He stopped at the end of the row, his back becoming rigid, the air growing cooler by the second.
“Where is he?” Boraleashe stood in front of Notalus. “Where is the Autumn Beauty?”
“I do not know.”
“Of course you do,” Boraleashe snarled, his fists clenched at his sides. “He should be here. And I take great offense that he is not.”
“It appears you will have to get over it, brother,” Notalus growled, refusing to be intimidated in his own home.
“If I go look for him… he won’t like what I do when I find him.”
“Is that why you came here, Boraleashe? To start trouble?” Notalus stepped closer. “My son made his decision… accept it.”
“I told you why I’m here. I came to congratulate my brother on his new marriage and to celebrate the beginning of my season… and the end of yours,” Boraleashe said boldly.