Prophesy 3: His Righteousness (The King & Alpha 3)

“Hell yeah, you do.” Macauley snorted. He’d never forget the terror he and Farica had felt at being confined in a steel trap with wings, forty-five thousand feet off the ground.

“So…” his brother prompted, but Macauley didn’t know where to start.

What could he say? I think I’ve found my mate, but I’m not a hundred percent sure like any other alpha would be. Shit. He’d be the laughingstock of his pack, not to mention his brothers. How could he bear the name of Volkov and not be able to scent and claim his mate?

“Mac. What is it?”

Macauley bit the inside of his cheek to keep from confessing like he wanted. Not yet. He had to do more reconnaissance. “I need to know what Wrath felt when Adres prayed to him.”

“What… why?” A deep frown creased Aleksei’s brow.

“I just need to. I need to know if he felt something there.”

After a few long seconds of silence, Aleksei finally answered him. “Wrath and I are connected, but when he controls the surface, I can fully retreat. And I prefer to when he has to kill.”

“Damnit.” Macauley grunted.

His brother gripped him behind his neck, and his wolf embraced the comfort of another alpha. “If you really wanna know what Wrath is feeling… then you should ask his mate. Besides, it was Belleron who told Wrath to spare the general’s life tonight, not me. Without our mate… Wrath knows no mercy.”

Belleron.

He watched Aleksei continue along the well-worn path towards Justice’s house. As the second oldest, and next in succession of Alpha Zenith, he and Justice often had conversations that excluded the younger siblings. And they were all fine with that. They each had their role in the pack. Macauley hurried home, making a plan to speak to Belleron first thing after he woke.

His cabin sat on a lush piece of land near his shop at the edge of the main compound. Because his specialty was carpentry and construction, his house was one of the nicer cabins. He should’ve been modest in his building, but the project had grown beyond his control until the next thing he’d known he had a second level with a master suite and a spa-style bathroom, two bedrooms on the first floor, each with its own private bath, a living room, and den. He’d always thought he’d have a family and a few pups running around at some point, but he was also more than happy playing uncle to the many kids he saw every day.

It was almost five in the morning, and he was beyond exhausted. He should’ve thanked Wrath for disrupting the meeting when he had, or else Justice wouldn’t have called it to an end until they had a solution. But no one could concentrate after the general had been taken to the infirmary.

Macauley grabbed a couple of bottles of water, ignoring his rumbling stomach, and took the stairs three at a time. He drank them down before he even finished removing his boots and jeans. His T-shirt had barely hit the floor before his cheek was smashed against one of his pillows.

He lay in bed with thoughts of Adres plaguing him. His gray-and-black hair, his scarred face, his voice, and the way he could project his power… like him. Macauley’s dick had been painfully hard when he dozed off, envisioning Adres’s coal-black eyes as he’d promised him vengeance.

And a god had answered him.

Though Macauley couldn’t see all of Adres’s soul, it had to be righteous if it could draw the favor of a god. Especially one as selective as Wrath. And with that lone, comforting thought, Macauley drifted into a peaceful rest.

He couldn’t have been asleep for more than half an hour when his wolf jolted him awake to alert him that he was no longer alone. He had company, but he wasn’t in danger. Macauley rubbed at the exhaustion in his gritty eyes. When he opened them fully, there he was, as dark as night, standing at his bedside. “Adres,” he whispered.

He hadn’t been startled; he wasn’t even upset that Adres had invaded his private space without so much as a knock on his front door. It was because he didn’t mind him being there. Macauley sat up and let the sheet fall from his chest to his lap. Adres’s heated gaze followed, then locked on the bunched-up material over his dick. He couldn’t see those onyx pupils, but he could sure feel them on his body.

Adres had the most unexplainable presence.

“You are in bed.”

Fuck, his voice sounded sexy. Or was it because Macauley was aroused? And not just a little turned on. He had to clench his jaw and groan through the discomfort before he could speak. “Yes. Not many of us are up at this hour.” Macauley grabbed his cell phone off his nightstand. “Speaking of which… what are you doing out? The sun will be up soon.”