Things with Celeste were going smoothly—perhaps too smoothly. Thane had been careful, giving her space, never pressing too hard, never showing just how badly he wanted to touch her. Every instinct in his Alpha blood screamed to take her, to mark her, to keep her pressed against him until she bore his scent. But he swallowed that hunger down, masking it with patience and small gestures meant to build her trust.
It was killing him.
Every time he saw her smile into the sunlight after planting one of her bulbs, her lips curving to reveal those deep dimples, his body ached. He wanted to taste them, run his tongue along the hollow and claim her laughter for himself. And lately, she had been making his restraint nearly impossible.
The way she ate—slow, deliberate, lips parting around a piece of fruit while her eyes held his—was torture. He knew she was playing a game, though whether she realized it or not, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that when her tongue brushed the corner of her mouth, he had to shift in his chair and silently pray the thick wood of the dining table held, because his cock strained so hard it might split straight through.
His little minx had claws, and she knew how to use them.
"Are you going to tell Lady Celeste what will be happening tomorrow night, Your Grace?" Jubal's quiet voice broke through his thoughts.
Thane had been standing beneath a marble archway, half-hidden, watching Celeste work in the garden. She knelt in the dirt with Morena—the only concubine who seemed to have befriended her. At least she wasn't entirely alone, though Thane wasn't blind. Friend or not, every woman in the harem had ambitions. He made a mental note to ask his mother about Morena's past and dig into her true motives.
"I suppose I've been putting it off, haven't I?" Thane murmured, folding his arms.
"The longer you wait," Jubal replied, stepping to his side, "the less time she'll have to prepare herself."
"You're right," Thane sighed. "We've only just begun to…get along. I don't want to shatter that so soon."
The sharp click of heels against stone echoed through the courtyard. Thane grimaced even before he turned. Natira swept toward them with her usual elegance, her eyes sharp as blades. Jubal, ever the tactician, bowed quickly and excused himself, leaving Thane to his fate.
"Mother," he greeted her sweetly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Her gaze narrowed. "Do not smooth-talk me, boy. Why was I not informed of your decision to invite our enemies into the palace?"
"You were informed," he countered coolly. "That's how you know now, isn't it?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense. Finally, Natira exhaled. "I don't think this is wise. You know exactly why they are coming. Do you really mean to put Celeste on display for their cruelty?"
Thane turned to face her fully, his jaw set. "I do nothing without thought. They are not our enemies—yet. They are neighbors, kings, lords. If peace is possible, I'll grasp it. As for Celeste…" His voice softened despite himself. "I would never willingly put her in harm's way. But word has already spread. Every realm knows I hold an Omega. They'll come whether I invite them or not. This way, at least, I control the field."
Natira's lips pressed into a thin line. "My gut tells me this won't end well. I love you, Thane. You are my only son. I will support you, always. But I hate learning of such things at the last moment. I would have liked time to prepare myself—and the harem. I assume the girls will be expected to perform?"
"Of course," Thane said quietly. "That is tradition. The visiting kings may choose any concubine for the night."
Her eyes sharpened. "And if one chooses Celeste? She is unclaimed, still a concubine in their eyes. They will see her as fair game."
A muscle jumped along Thane's jaw. His wolf snarled inside him, the thought of another man touching Celeste enough to make his vision blur red. "I will deal with Celeste the way I see fit," he ground out.
Natira studied him for a long moment, but at last she inclined her head. "Very well. Do as you will. I'll see the harem is prepared." Her voice softened, almost fond, as she touched his arm. "Be careful, my son." And then she swept away, leaving only the faint scent of jasmine in her wake.
Thane turned back to the garden. The sun was sinking low, shadows stretching across the marble paths. Soon it would be dinner, and he would have to look Celeste in the eye knowing what awaited her tomorrow.
She was so beautiful, bent over the soil with dirt on her hands and sunlight catching in her hair. She was kind, too—too kind for this world. Brave, stubborn, sharp-tongued, everything he had ever wanted and never dared hope to find. And she was his.
Tomorrow night would test every fragile thread of trust he'd managed to weave between them. Kings would come. Greed would follow. And war—if not on the battlefield, then within the palace walls—was inevitable.
For Celeste. For Vlallas. For his crown.
The game was about to begin.