The Alpha's Temptation

Eltanin pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. The same ordeal will repeat itself. He will refuse, his father will snap, and Eltanin will depart in a huff.

“You know my answer, Father,” he said. “Why go through all this all over again? I will not marry. And that is final!”

A muscle feathered in Alrakis’s jaw.

“Your wolf is an ancient spirit,” Alrakis said. “It is an avatar of God. We don’t want it to fall in the hands of the demon wolf Felis. If he leashes your wolf with his spells, he will be invincible! And now your wolf needs the power of your mate. If you don’t claim a mate soon, your wolf will become weak.” Alrakis cried. “Why don’t you understand, Eltanin? Only your mate or wife can trigger the venom in your fangs. Your claim on her will only be the way for her to open her powers to you and your wolf.”

Venom. What a bizarre, insane theory. Alrakis had already mentioned that his venom would act as an aphrodisiac to his mate. If he took a gifted woman as his wife and injected her with his venom, he could align his soul with hers, and his wolf would become stronger. But the effect would not be as powerful as it would be if he had his mate.

“This has never happened amongst mates, Father! This is absurd.” Eltanin dismissed the theory. “It is just an old wives tale which shouldn’t be given any credit.” What would happen if he found his mate after marrying another woman? Would he abandon his wife, or would he reject his mate?

“It is not!” Alrakis growled. “The only way now is to mark a woman, and a strong one at that. Since you haven’t found a mate, it is better that you claim a woman who has some powers. And I have heard that Princess Morava of the Pegasii Kingdom has mana. She has gifts that will align with your wolf, and if you will mark her, you will emerge stronger. At least there will be some respite from Felis!”

Eltanin shook his head. Respite? Marriage was long-term. A sacred institution. How could his father expect him to marry for only ‘respite’?

He almost protested before Alrakis raised a hand to stop him. “I have already invited Biham along with his daughter to come and visit us.”

“Father!” Eltanin grunted. “I won’t marry her.”

Alrakis stood up from his chair. He held the edge of the table and leaned forward. “She is coming here, and you are meeting her,” he said with a cold snarl. “I can’t take any more risks with your safety. Felis might attack you…” Alrakis stopped, choking on his emotions. It was impossible to imagine his only son, his gift from his mate, dead. Moments later when he pushed the bile down he found Eltanin sitting there stubbornly, avoiding his gaze. He added, “Biham is arriving tomorrow.”

Eltanin exhaled heavily. Seeing how adamant his father was, he rose from his place and burst out of the chamber with only one plan—he would ward off Princess Morava with the help of his friend Rigel. He could venture out on a hunting trip with his soldiers while she was there. Or perhaps he could shift and head into the Eslam Forests, waiting for Morava to arrive and then to leave. He had to do something and he had to do it quickly.

After yesterday night’s incident with the girl with the golden mask, it was not possible, at least for now, to even think of another woman. And he knew he was going against his rationale.

When he woke up in the morning, and when he had discovered that the girl had left without a trace, all he was left with was her smell. He had committed to memory. With his mind in a turmoil, he had stared at the wrinkles on the bedsheet on her side. He rolled on the side where she had slept, inhaling her citrusy scent again to calm his nerves, but that only enraged him further.

It was early in the morning the next day, and the clouds still drifted in the skies. Instead of going to his bedchamber, he marched all the way back to the guest wing to the same room he had spent the previous night. He had asked Fafnir to not allow a single servant to enter the room. Returning there, he gathered the pillow in his hands and smelled it deeply.

His father’s words bounced around his mind, sending him into a fresh rage. Dejected, wanting to do something about it, he opened his mind-link with Fafnir. ‘Where are you?’ he barked. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

Fafnir was conducting morning training in the palace arena. With him were twenty soldiers that he had recruited that morning. ‘I am training the new recruits,’ he said.

‘Did you find that girl?’ Eltanin asked, his rage traveled through their mind link like a whip, making Fafnir jump.

‘No. Princess Petra is still sleeping.’ Fafnir replied.

‘Did you follow her scent?’

‘Yes. But it led to the backyard. It got washed away by the heavy rains.’

‘Where is Rigel?’

‘Prince Rigel is sleeping, too.’

‘Wake him up!’

Fafnir paled. He did not have the authority to wake up a prince. It was against the protocols.

‘Tell him that we are going to the Eslam Forests!’

“Yes, Your Highness.’

‘And I am coming to the training arena!’ Eltanin said before severing the mind link.

He would let Fafnir deal with the complexities of waking Rigel; he was only interested in results. If Fafnir could not wake up Rigel, he was sure that he would explode with fury. He stared at the pillow in his hand, thinking he might have gone insane. He tried some reasoning.

Why was he obsessing so much about a she-wolf? Did he not have better things to do with his kingdom?

A pressing demand had been delayed from the king of Eridanus, Enki, urging him to build a bridge over the Straits of Homaz, in the Gulf of Enki-A. Enki wanted him to fund the bridge and for that, he would pledge permanent allegiance to Eltanin. He had to talk to his councilors about it.

Yet—