Mated To Rival Kings

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Raven's POV

My heart raced as my eyes closed and I opened up to Darian. Everything else in the room sort of faded away. Darian didn't hesitate. He leaned in, his tongue sliding past my lips to stroke mine with a slow, deliberate confidence.

He tasted like the sweet maple syrup from the pancakes, and his breath was hot against my skin. Oh my Goddess! Was this really happening? My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. What was I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to put my hands?

Darian seemed to sense my internal panic. He shifted his weight, his large hand sliding up to cup my jaw possessively. His thumb rubbed my cheek in a soothing rhythm even as he kissed me deeper. His tongue moved with a firm, demanding pace that sent shivers racing down my spine and pooling in my lower belly. I found myself pressing back against him, my own tongue tentatively meeting his.

In response, he let out a low vibration in his chest and sucked on my lower lip, tugging just enough to make me let out a soft, helpless moan. The heat between us was sudden and intense, far beyond anything I had imagined a "demonstration" would feel like.

After one last, lingering stroke, he pulled away. His lips were shiny with our shared saliva, and his amber eyes were dark with a hunger he wasn't trying to hide.

I immediately looked toward Valen. He was still sitting on the rug, his expression caught somewhere between fascination and a brewing storm. He didn't look displeased, exactly, but he certainly didn't look happy either. He gave me a short, stiff nod as if to reassure me that he wasn't about to blow up, then he stood up and walked over to the large lounge window. He stood there with his back to us, staring out at the dark, rain-streaked grounds.

"Will he be okay?" I whispered to Darian, my face burning with heat.

Darian shrugged, though he shook his head slightly.

"I can hear you, Raven," Valen’s deep voice rumbled from the window.

I smiled sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The tension was back, thicker than ever. I cleared my throat, trying to find my voice. "There was... something I was supposed to tell the two of you. Something important."

Darian straightened up, his focus returning to me. "What is it about?"

"I had a weird dream last night," I said, my voice steadier now. "It felt more like a vision than a dream. There was a woman with silver hair—much like your cousin’s, Darian. She had violet eyes. She was talking to an older woman about a missing ruler and a prophesied one. It felt so real, like I was standing right there."

I paused, looking between them. "I’ve never seen her before in my life. But when she looked at me, she actually saw me."

Darian and Valen locked eyes. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy again. Their faces went grim, a silent communication passing between them that left me feeling cold.

"What?" I asked, looking from one to the other. "What is it?"

They remained quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. The silence only served to make me more agitated. I reached out and shook Darian’s arm. "Speak already! You’re scaring me."

Darian sighed, taking my hand in his. "Raven, you said you don't know who your parents are, right? That you were found as a pup?"

"Yes," I said, wondering what my lack of a family tree had to do with all of this. "What does that matter?"

Valen turned away from the window, his face a mask of seriousness. He dropped the bomb without any hesitation. "You must be blood-related to a mage."

"A mage?" I repeated, the word sounding foreign in my mouth. "What even is that?"

Darian must have seen the utter confusion on my face. "Mages are beings with magical abilities, Raven. They aren't like us. Most use spells or ancient incantations, but the truly powerful ones only need to will their desires into reality. Their eyes flash violet when their power is active."

I blinked, trying to process the information. "And you know this how? I thought mages were just stories humans told."

"We are Kings," Valen said simply, walking back toward the fire. "There are archives in our libraries that date back to the dawn of the wolf. There are things we must know to protect our borders."

I let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. "But I’m a werewolf. How can I be related to a mage?"

"Magic can blend with anything, little mate," Valen said.

Outside, a massive crack of lightning split the sky, followed immediately by a roar of thunder that shook the floorboards. The storm was still raging outside.

"How does that work?" I asked, looking at Darian.

"A person can be half-wolf, half-mage," Darian explained helpfully. "It won't present as a fifty-fifty split. Usually, the individual possesses all the physical abilities of a werewolf—the healing, the strength, the shifting—but they also carry the internal powers of a mage. They are called wolf-mages. They are extremely rare."

I laughed again, feeling like my mind was about to explode. "But... but it still doesn't make sense. I’m an Omega. I’m supposed to be the weakest of the weak. I would know if I had magic, right? I'd be throwing sparks or something. Why is all this even happening now?"

Darian shrugged. "We can schedule a meeting with the Elders later. They would definitely know more about the old bloodlines."

I went silent, my thoughts spinning. Does this mean one of my parents is a mage? What the hell? My whole identity as an abandoned pup was being rewritten in a single morning.

"Why are mages not well known?" I asked. "I've never heard a single wolf in the Inker pack mention them."

"They prefer to live in seclusion," Valen said. "They are unbiased and mostly keep to themselves. They don't care for pack politics or the squabbles of other species. There also aren't many of them left in this world."

Darian patted my hand. "Alright, don't worry about it anymore today. I'm sure it's nothing that can't be handled. There also isn't much we can do today, considering the weather."

"No problem," I said, my legs feeling a bit shaky as I stood up. "I'll go continue my reading."

I returned to my room, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. Everything I’d ever known about my life was crumbling. For the first time, I allowed myself to wonder: were my parents alive? I had always assumed they were dead because wolves almost never abandon their pups unless they have no choice.

Eva? I called out within. What do you think? You heard all that.

I am as confused as you are, my wolf replied, her voice sounding unusually thoughtful. But I think at least one of them is out there.

I didn't know how to feel about that. I lay back in bed, picking up my book but the words blurred together. Between the cool weather and the steady drumming of the rain, I eventually dozed off.

A strange, stifling heat was what awoke me.

I stretched languidly, my skin feeling slick and sensitive. Did someone light a furnace in my room? I pushed the heavy covers off, hoping for a breeze, but the air in the room felt thick and stagnant. I opened my eyes, struggling to tell the time. It was still dark and gloomy outside; the rain had let up for the moment, but the sky looked like it was preparing for round two.

My throat was parched. I sat up and reached blindly for the jug of water on my nightstand, downing it directly from the container. The cool water didn't help.

I felt like I was burning from the inside out. It was an uncomfortable, restless heat that made my skin itch. I touched my forehead and I was on fire, but I didn't feel sick. I felt... needy. My heart was thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs, and a low, heavy throb was spreading through my groin.

I looked down and realized the bedspread beneath me was slightly damp. I froze. Did I pee on myself? No, there was no scent of urine. Instead, the room was filled with a rich, sweet scent that smelled like jasmine and flowers. It was my scent, but intensified a hundred times over.

Mate, Eva whispered in my head, her voice wanton and primal. Want mate. Now.

My stomach ached with an hunger that had nothing to do with food. What was happening? Was I having a delayed reaction to Darian’s kiss? Or was this something else?

"Oh," I groaned, clutching my stomach. "So hot."

I reached for the hem of my dress, the fabric suddenly feeling like sandpaper against my sensitized skin. I needed to get it off. I was just about to pull it over my head when my bedroom door was violently kicked open. The wood slammed against the wall with a deafening bang.

I let out a small, startled scream, clutching the dress to my chest.

Valen was standing in the doorway. But it wasn't the Valen I knew. His eyes were a piercing, icy blue, glowing with an animalistic light. His claws were extended, and his facial features looked sharper, more dangerous. He was half-shifted, his chest heaving as he took in the scent of the room.

He looked like a man possessed. And his gaze was locked onto me.

Oh no.