10. Bonded in Secret #3
The serpent was hard to kill. While Fenris clawed into its eyes, I tore the wretched thing’s tail base open. That successfully debilitated it. Then we joined forces and tore its belly open, gouging out its entrails. Its blood bathed us in a red shower, and it felt ... thrilling and invigorating.
Afterward, we panted heavily from exhaustion like dogs, though the animosity between us seemed to have thawed away after fighting a common foe. I was almost grateful that this stupid serpent had decided to make me its meal.
For a while, it felt like we could finally be friends. But then things went sideways in the bathhouse.
I truly didn’t plan to have another fight with him.
I had dismissed everyone else, hoping to have a chance to talk to Fenris privately in the bathhouse, perhaps to discuss with him the potential of our alliances.
But then ... he suggested the serpent was a much more deadly sea serpent, which shouldn’t have been found in a mountain lake.
He suggested one of my siblings tried to off me.
The complex, treacherous relationship between my family members had always been a sore spot for me.
My father was distant, offish, barely there from what I remembered; however, when he occasionally showed me some fatherly affection, no matter how infrequent it was, those were the better memories of my childhood.
Meanwhile, my mother had encouraged me to snatch every chance to impress my father.
She had told me since I was young that I was her only child, while my siblings were bastards Father had sired with other lovers.
If I lost my father’s favour, my siblings and their true birth-givers would eat me alive, and not just me, but also my mother. Her fate was attached with mine.
Over and over, she told me that I didn’t have siblings, but enemies, and that she and her clan’s fate rested on me.
When I was a little cub, I tried very hard to make her proud and to do everything she asked.
Whenever she cried because I did something that frustrated her, I was buried with guilt and thought myself an unworthy child.
However, the conflict arose when I realized Valerian wasn’t the jealous older brother she had made him out to be.
Valerian was kind to me. He was three years older than me, and he took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.
He took me to play in the garden, read books to me, helped me with the work my tutors assigned, taught me how to fight with a sword, and I especially liked it when he rubbed my head as though he were an adult, even though he wasn’t that much older than me.
I had enjoyed being with him even more than with my mother.
As I grew older, Valerian became more of a father figure to me than my real father. I looked up to him, admired him, and he cared about me, too. My mother and Valerian’s omega father, who is now the Prime Oracle, tried every way to make us hate each other, but it hadn’t worked, until ...
Until my failed eloping attempt.
Valerian had known about my relationship with Eric.
He was among the first people I confided in, even before I told Johnathan.
When my secret was exposed to my father and mother, I begged him to help Eric and me to escape, and Valerian had agreed.
He sneaked us out of Erevos, and it didn’t end well for him.
My mother had always been jealous of my close relationship with my brother, and she hated Valerian for helping Eric and me.
She had Valerian’s first chosen mate, the beautiful omega daughter of Earl Davis, Loretta, married off to the notoriously cruel, abusive Lord of Onyx Hollow.
She died within a year of being sent to that distant clan, and though the official report was that she died of illness, it was more likely she was tormented to death by that monster.
Valerian was never the same since. He became cold, calculating, much more solemn and distant than I remembered, and I could see the bone-chilling hatred in his eyes when he looked in my direction.
He remained calm and polite before my mother, almost too obliging, and I didn’t know how much rancour was fermenting under those impeccable manners.
I only glimpsed the darkness within him when he framed the Lord of Onyx Hollow for colluding with Solstia: He got to execute the lord who tortured and murdered his lover, and the execution lasted three days.
Valerian sliced the lord into thousands of tiny pieces, keeping him alive the entire time with potions and magic runes.
It was said the lord’s screams could be heard from three cities away.
I still held onto the hope that one day, maybe he’ll forgive me, and maybe things could go back to the way they had been before all the tragedies, even though I know how ludicrous it is for me to still cling to that hope, refusing to let go.
And that was why I overreacted when Fenris suggested one of my siblings tried to get me killed by that serpent.
We fought again, and it fired up every single element in my body.
Eventually, I tricked him into thinking the fight had upset my wound from the fight with the sea serpent, and I took advantage of his reluctance to hurt me more, pinning him against the stairs leading into the water.
He struggled for a short while, cursing me for tricking him, but quickly relaxed under me as the air between us began to shift into something ... hotter.
Fenris was ... so beautiful, more beautiful than I had imagined.
His strong, scarred body yielded under my strength like a deadly yet tamed weapon.
His long, wavy dirty-blond hair spread in the water like strands of seaweed, and there was a wetness in his eyes, an unspoken yearning with a hint of daring, daring me to do more.
I knew he was different from most other alphas.
He wanted something forbidden, and so did I.
And then, he tilted his head to the opposite side of his scent gland, just a little, not quite a submitting gesture, but intentional nonetheless.
That was the most seductive thing I’d ever seen, much more effective than any suggestive clothing or amorous perfume.
All my rational thoughts melted away in the hot steam and primal drive. I kissed him, hard, ravenous, rough, nothing like how I would kiss an omega or a beta lady. His lips were soft, yet his kiss had the same ferocity, and we tasted each other’s blood, consumed each other’s breaths.
In that steamy pool, I took him. It was probably his first time taking the receiving role, and I had wanted to be gentler, but he felt ...
oh so good. Everything about him was like the most addictive opium: his tanned, warm skin; his long, flexible legs; his slightly furrowed brows, as though stuck at somewhere between pain and pleasure; his elegantly shaped lips pressed into a thin line, trying to bite back embarrassing noises, but a sob, or whimper, or pleading would escape when it was too much.
I couldn’t hold myself back. I wanted him, every inch of him. I wanted to sink deeper and deeper until we became one. And that was why, when he bared his scent gland and offered it to me with such a pliant, submissive expression on his flushed face, I bit down without a second thought.
However, once the power of lust and passion wore off, Fenris was furious.
Which was totally understandable. An alpha should never be a receiver, according to our ridiculous social rules.
For any alpha, a mating mark would mean they had submitted to another alpha in the most thorough, humiliating way possible.
Fenris was the future Jarl of Winterthrope, who needed to establish his dominant image to lead armies, and yet ...
I had marked him. I was lucky he merely stormed out without slitting my throat.
And I ... I was conflicted. I should have felt guilty, afraid, since if Fenris told anyone I was the one who left the mark, I would be in as much trouble as him. But the truth was, seeing my mark sitting on his neck, commanding attention, I felt a rush of ineffable satisfaction.
Perhaps it wouldn’t cause too much trouble, would it? Since Fenris was an alpha, surely we couldn’t form a mate bond, right?
I mean ... I hadn’t tried it with anyone else, not even Eric. But I hadn’t heard about a mate bond being possible between two alphas.
The next day, I went to see Alma under the pretense of letting her check if my ribs were alright from the serpent fight, though my real intention was to ask if it was possible for an alpha to successfully mark another alpha.
I tried to make my question sound as nonchalant a whim as possible, but she knew me too well.
“Did you mark an alpha, Damien?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“What?! No!” I said, my voice a tad too high, “I was just asking for a friend!”
She sighed, obviously knowing I was lying, but she didn’t force me to admit it. Instead, she told me that, unfortunately, it was completely possible for one alpha to give a mating mark to another, as long as both parties were willing, and their union was strong enough during the process.
Fuck. Me.
Now I felt really bad for my lack of self-restraint ...
Alma gave me a bottle of scent mask she had made when I was leaving.
“Go see your ‘friend,’ Damien. A fresh mating mark is a very demanding thing,” she said softly. “He needs you now, more than ever.”
On my way back, I made a decision. If it is truly a mating mark, I will take care of him. I will not let him suffer through this alone.
I’ll try to be a good mate to him, as long as he allows me.