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

“I would be honored, your grace,”

“How soon before we can get this moving?” another one of Wick’s officers asked.

“Not long at all,” Orwin supplied. “I will get the administrative team going right away.”

“Farica, I want you and Macauley to handle the compound and get as many on board with donating blood as you can. When Taleb returns later tonight, we’ll get him working on communications.”

“Why? Where are you going?” Macauley asked Justice.

“Alek and I are going to go visit with some of the larger packs to explain what we’re doing. It will show a sign of respect if I go in person. This is something huge we’re suggesting. I won’t ask for something like this in an email.” Justice stood. “Wick and I need to start packing. Alek, you and Bell meet us at the bus lot in the morning.”

“No problem,” Macauley said, then reached for Adres’s hand.

He almost bit it, but instead of embarrassing him, he slid his hand inside Macauley’s and allowed him to lead him out of the room. They walked in the opposite direction through a denser part of the woods. Once Adres was sure they were out of earshot of the others, he rounded on Macauley.

“Must you do that in front of everyone?”

Macauley appeared genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“Treat me as if I’m a baby.” Adres gritted his teeth. “I do not appreciate being forced to use my shields because I’m being fondled beneath a table in front of my comrades, nor do I need to be slapped on my buttocks and told to perform. It is disrespectful, Macauley, not to mention childish. Have we not drawn enough negative attention to ourselves?”

Macauley blinked a few times before he parted his lips and rumbled, “I wasn’t treating you like a baby—that was just a term of endearment. I was treating you like you are mine.”

“I am not yours to have fun with however you choose,” Adres said as the wind began to stir around them. “You will show me respect.”

Macauley returned his glower as he crowded into him until their chests were shoved together. His cherished stood over him, his dark hair whipping around his head, appearing unfazed by the sudden drop in temperature. “You are my true mate. I should be able to touch you no matter who is around. I’m not ashamed, Adres… but maybe you are.”

“You are going too far now.”

A look of disappointment and anger transformed his beloved’s gorgeous features. “If you don’t want my touch, fine… rest assured… I won’t disrespect you anymore.” Macauley turned and walked away, leaving Adres standing there alone in the center of the cyclone.

Adres cursed up a storm under his breath and took off into a sprint. Has he gone mad? The mere thought of Macauley refusing, or even insinuating that he would not touch him again had Adres moving so fast that his energy caught on the wind, his feet flying from under him as he sailed into the air. He flailed a couple of seconds before he soared over the twenty-foot privacy bushes surrounding the perimeter of Macauley’s cabin and hit the earth with a ground-trembling thud near his front door.

Macauley came to an abrupt stop, his betas almost stumbling to the ground behind him from the force of the quake. Adres stood just beyond the entrance to his cabin, glaring at him as if he could eat him alive. It made Macauley’s cock press against the front of his denims.

“I would advise you not to threaten me with your touch, young wolf.”

“What the fuckin’ hell?” Bundy gaped as he steadied himself. “Man. Did you just like… fly over here.”

A triumphant grin stretched across Macauley’s face. He didn’t take his eyes off Adres when he told his betas, “Can you guys leave us, please? Adres and I need to clear the air.”

“‘Clear the air’?” Adres echoed as Macauley’s betas left them to their misunderstanding.

If Adres only knew how sexy he was when he attempting to be menacing, he wouldn’t question why Macauley couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Maybe it would lessen in intensity when they were fully mated. Because even now, he was just restraining himself from throwing Adres over his shoulder and hauling him upstairs. His mate’s powers were manifesting daily, and it was such a turn-on for him that maybe he was taking things a little far.

Okay, so fondling Adres’s balls under the table in a room full of officials was perhaps a bit much. He was still learning how old-fashioned his mate was, and if he didn’t like to make a spectacle of himself in public, then Macauley should at least try to respect that.

Adres’s steps were calculated as he came towards him. His hood was low over his face, meant to protect his identity, but Macauley was able to see through it now. Dark eyes glared at him as if he were a target, his movements languid, wistful, and borderline seductive. Goose bumps ran down his nape as he got swept up in the warm breeze blowing around his face. It was a freezing winter evening, and the mountains held a fresh cap of overnight snow, but the wind seeping into his soul felt as if it was coming off the desert sands of Arizona.