“I smell you.” The strikingly handsome man glowered, and Adres felt a ripple of pleasure move under his skin. He shifted fast into an impressive, stark-white wolf, shredding the few clothes he’d worn as he stalked towards him. Adres had never been this close to an alpha wolf, and regardless of how aggressive this one was behaving, he was not afraid.
“This is unbelievable,” the Lord Protector whispered. “You are a Cavalerie? The oldest?”
“Yes,” Adres said, keeping still while the beast lurked around him.
“Never thought I’d see one in person,” the king said.
“You’ve seen me, my Lord. You just didn’t know it,” Adres answered truthfully. He was two seconds away from shoving off the muzzle that was hovering near his chest… at his core.
“Do you mind filling the rest of us in, because my brother’s wolf says your soul is wicked and corrupt,” the AZ scowled, his voice laced with caution. “I’m not going to ask you if that’s true, because I believe him. His animal not only senses the righteous but the unjust as well. Now, tell me why you’ve come onto my pack lands.”
La naiba! Not only did these alphas communicate to each other telepathically, but it appeared the one growling near his throat had a wolf that could sense evil. Adres was fucked, but he stayed composed, knowing his people would vouch for him. The shifters may not know who he was, but the vampires did. The Cavalerie name carried the same level of respect in the vampire community as the Volkovs did within the shifters. However, Adres’s entire family abhorred politics and preferred to keep their distance and their services from the royals. But there he was, in one of the most beautiful places in the world, providing them with his protection.
The Lord Protector shook his head at Justice. “No, AZ. He is not wicked nor corrupt. His family are the harbingers of judgment. Have been for millennia. It’s why his shield makes him undetectable. It’s his family’s creed. And Adres has a reputation of living up to the meaning of his name—the inescapable.”
More vampires added their recollection of Adres’s history, and most of them had it right. “The name Cavalerie translates to Horseman in Romanian. And, no, his history has no association to the mythical folklore told to frighten misbehaving children. It’s merely coincidental, if not a bit ironic, that Adres and his many brothers are known for raiding immoral covens and bringing victims the heads of their tormentors as justice.”
Hence the reason he was there.
A tall vampire, a female with wide, slate-black eyes, added, “Some of the old ancestors say the Horsemen were sent as gifts from Nemesis, the Roman goddess of retribution. So, the council never hunted them.”
Adres removed his hood just as the large wolf who’d been infringing on his space shifted and stood over him. He was something to behold, but he was also making Adres angry. Perhaps that was why his body felt so hot. If a shifter had visited his land, he’d greet him with respect and hear his words before he decided if he must kill it.
Adres glared up at the alpha who hadn’t bothered to introduce himself properly before disrespecting him in one of the worst ways. And in front of his kind. The younger Volkov didn’t appear to take Adres’s glower as a challenge; instead, he stood against him with his hands on his bare hips, his hairy chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. Not only was Adres confused by this behavior, but it appeared a few of the shifters standing around and observing were as well.
He can’t possibly smell the—
“You may be a master at hiding your scent.” The alpha dipped his head and pressed his nose to Adres’s temple, breaking through two of his shields and causing his head to spin. “But I smell the real you… killer.”
One week later
Adres walked alongside his blue-black Friesian warhorse as they made their way deeper into one of the valleys of the White Mountain Forest. The moonlight shimmered on the water’s dark surface as Razboi crept towards the shallow end to take a cool drink. Adres gazed into the clear night sky, his enhanced hearing catching and filtering every sound he heard as he was still getting accustomed to his new home in a shifter’s territory. And his new position within the king’s royal court.
Adres was now residing on the pack lands of the legendary Volkov alphas.
Two hundred years ago, he never would’ve believed he’d be in this particular place at this moment in time, kneeling next to a frigid lake while too many nocturnal creatures scavenged and scampered around in the dense forest behind him. He didn’t mind the seclusion and silence—Cavalerie men preferred it—but he was still used to living in a more refined environment.