Kaelen's POV.
The imperial tent was not a place of luxury; it was a cathedral of war. Maps were pinned to every surface with daggers, and the air smelled of wet copper.
The guards retreated, sealing the heavy canvas flaps behind them. I was alone with Fenrir.
I stood in the center of the rug, my legs leaden. The Mate Bond was no longer a spark; it was an earthquake. Every nerve in this Omega body was screaming at me to kneel, to expose my throat, to appease the giant standing five paces away.
My nature wanted me to be a servant. My soul wanted to kill him for the insult of his existence.
"Who are you?" he asked. His voice was a low vibration that seemed to rattle the marrow in my bones.
"I am Linus of the Blue Moon," I said, my voice steady despite the way my knees threatened to buckle.
Fenrir stopped directly behind me. I could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Don't lie to me, rabbit. I've met Linus. I've read the reports from my spies. Linus is a boy who cries when he sees his own shadow."
He leaned down, his breath ghosting against the shell of my ear. "I can smell the Omega in you. It's sweet, it's cloying. But beneath it... there is something…..Something bitter." I turned slowly to face him, refusing to look up.
I kept my chin level, even as he loomed over me. "Perhaps your spies are as incompetent as your border guards."
Fenrir's hand shot out, his fingers catching the edge of the silk scarf. He ripped it away in one violent motion, exposing the pulsing scent gland at the base of my throat.
The sudden exposure to the air and to him sent a jolt of pure electricity through my body I gasped, my hand flying to the table behind me to keep me from falling.
"You're trembling," Fenrir noted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your body is betraying you, little prince. It wants to submit."
"My body is a vessel," I hissed, my eyes glowing a faint, dangerous red. "It does what it's told. And I have told it that you are nothing but a temporary obstacle."
Fenrir growled and lunged forward.
He grabbed my waist and pushed me backward onto the heavy oak table.
He leaned his full weight into me, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand. His other hand pressed firmly against my chest, right over my heart.
The Mate Bond flared.
It was agonizing. It felt like my skin was being branded from the inside out. My Omega instincts were short-circuiting, flooded by the sheer proximity of a compatible Alpha.
My breath came in shallow, jagged hitches.
"Tell me the truth," Fenrir commanded. His face was inches from mine. "Before I decide to see if your spirit is as easy to break as your bones."
I didn't flinch. I let my lips curl into a smirk, even as a bead of sweat rolled down my temple. "The truth? The truth is that you're terrified, Fenrir. You've spent your life being the strongest predator in the room, and now you've found something you can't categorize. You don't know whether to bed me or execute me."
His grip tightened on my wrists. I felt the heat of his calloused skin. Our scents clashed in the cramped space, his mountain air and sharp ozone meeting my cedar and lavender. It was a chaotic, intoxicating blend.
The air between us felt thick.
For a moment, the world quieted down to the sound of our hearts.
His was a heavy, thundering drum; mine was a rapid, frantic rhythm. He looked at my mouth.
I could feel the heat of him, the raw, unbridled power that made this body want to melt into the wood of the table.
But I didn't give him the satisfaction. I leaned my head back, exposing my throat fully. "Go ahead, pup. Bite. See what happens when you try to swallow a soul that's larger than your own."
Fenrir's nostrils flared. His teeth grazed the skin above my collarbone, a hair's breadth from the marking point. I felt his pulse racing against my palm.
Then, abruptly, he let go.
He backed away, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He looked at his hands, then at me, his expression a mask of fury and confusion. I sat up, rubbing my bruised wrists.
Fenrir walked to the tent's entrance. "General Jaxon!" he shouted.
The flap opened immediately. The scarred General stepped in, his eyes darting between me, disheveled on the table and his Emperor.
"Your Majesty?"
"The Prince will not be staying in the guest quarters," Fenrir said. "And he will not be sent to the capital yet. He stays here, in the war command. I want a desk cleared for him. Let's see if his mind is as sharp as his mouth."
Jaxon looked confused. "Sir? An Omega in the command tent? The men will…."
"The men will do as they are told or they will answer to me," Fenrir snapped.
He turned back to me. "You want to be a partner, Linus? Fine. I'll treat you like a soldier. You'll eat what we eat, you'll work until your hands bleed, and you'll prove that you are worth the trouble it's causing me."
I straightened my clothes, my eyes cold. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Fenrir leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But make no mistake. I don't trust you. And I don't leave my enemies where I can't see them."
He turned to the exit, paused, and looked back over his shoulder. "You will sleep in my chambers tonight. On the floor, on the bed, I don't care. But you will be within my reach."