Chapter Thirty-three: Restraint

VARUL

Weak. Coward. Chivalrous, pathetic fool.

Siren’s voice tore at the base of my skull, a low, grinding friction that tasted of iron and ancient, thwarted fury. Within the dark space of my mind, the beast did not merely pace; he threw his massive weight against the bars of my restraint, his jaws snapping close enough to make my own teeth ache.

“Silence,” I commanded internally, my bare feet biting the freezing stone of the corridor with heavy, measured steps.

I will not be silent! We left her, Varul. Again! Her scent still hangs heavy on our skin—the sweet taste of her arousal is a hot brand on our tongue, and you turned your back. For what? To play the saint?

“I am keeping her whole,” I fired back, my thoughts a rigid shield against his rage. “If we force the bond now, we might break her. I stand by what I said; I will not rule her by ruin.”

Gods, you self-righteous coward. I remember your first excuse on the road from Windsmoor. ‘Oh, Siren, she is a sheltered Southern princess, I will not have her too sore to ride.’ I knew it was foolishness then, and it is foolishness now. I cannot believe I fell for it.

A muscle leaped in my jaw. “It was a practical consideration.”

It was an evasion! And tonight, the truth finally slipped past your guard. Kanaan. You would not sink your teeth into her neck because you look in the mirror and fear you will see the old Alpha looking back. Siren paused, his amber eyes narrowing to lethal slits in the shadows of my consciousness. How did you hide that from me? We share marrow. We share blood. How did you lock that simple-minded logic away from your own wolf for weeks?

“Because unlike you, I possess the discipline of a man,” I snapped, shoving open the heavy timber door to my private chambers and slamming it into the frame.

I did not light the tallow candles. The room was a solitary stone vault that felt entirely too large, entirely too empty. I paced the expanse of the hide rug, my bare toes digging into the coarse fur—a bitter mirror of the restless, bloodthirsty movements the beast was making inside my head.

Discipline? He scoffed. It is pride. She was begging us to stay! Did you miss the part where she followed us?—

“Her body was begging us to stay, there is a difference. And she did not follow us—you drew her out.”

Siren ignored my accusation as though I had not even spoken.

“—Or the part where her blood sang so loudly for us it nearly deafened me? Do you love torture? Is that what this whole simple-minded business is, a game for you to test the boundaries of our restraint? Because I must warn you, my restraint is running quite thin, Varul.”

“Enough,” I muttered aloud, my voice a rough, exhausted rasp in the dark.

It is not enough. And while we are counting your failures—let us speak of that godsforsaken council dinner.

I stopped at the narrow window, staring out into the bleak, moonlit courtyard of Pillak Towers. “Krev was testing the boundaries—"

Krev is a snake, but I do not speak of him. I speak of Halvar. He is a dog who needs to be put down. He sat at our table baring his fangs at our mate, and you held me back! I was ready to do that bastard a solid one. I would have torn his throat out right over the roasted meat, and you reined me in. Why? To keep the peace? To look civilized for the Southern girl?

“Because ripping a high lord’s head from his shoulders before the first course is bad diplomacy, Siren. Especially when we will need his riders to reinforce Linewatch.”

Siren tutted loudly, a deeply irritated sound that vibrated straight through my sinuses. It is excellent diplomacy. Dead men do not threaten the Luna, and their pack houses still owe us their swords.

"Halvar's time shall come. Besides, I had more pressing matters to look over. A raven from Zophyr arrived right as the council broke.”

Ah, yes, the scroll from the frost-line. The only reason you were lurking over those parchment maps in the dark like a ghost in the first place. What did he say?

“His scouts found fresh tracks in the deep drifts. Two days' ride from the secondary gates.” I paced the length of the room. "I smell a coming slaughter. The lords are not entirely wrong in their worries. We must know if the South's gold will buy our blades or leave us out in the cold.”

Queen Astrid is a woman of her word. We have the South's support.

"Too much rests on this alliance. And there is something else, Siren. Something that continues to nudge at me."

The wolf went quiet, his ears pricking up in the dark of my mind. What is that? The treaty?

“No, something with her. Our mate. Think back to the wedding night. Think of the way she carried herself at the high table tonight. The stories we heard told of a fragile, sheltered dove born to breed and stay silent. But the woman in our halls has a tongue like a honed dagger. And her phrases are...strange. And her scent... it is rare, yes, but unfamiliar. For the life of me, I cannot tell what is off about it.”

Siren hummed, a low, thoughtful vibration. She has secrets. A sheltered princess who wanders the dark woods alone. I noted the anomaly the moment we saw her at her high window. But what of it? Her blood calls to us. She is our mate, whatever game she plays.

“If she is playing a game in a court full of bloodthirsty wolves, she will not survive the winter,” I muttered, my hands clenching into fists on the sill.

Good thing she has us then, eh?

He went quiet for a long moment, settling back on his paws inside my head, his anger morphing into something entirely more wicked and teasing. I could feel the sharp, playful prickle of his consciousness as he nudged the front of my mind. His tone carried tongue-in-cheek amusement.

Well, since, as usual, we shall not be sleeping because of those nightmares of yours—

I gritted my teeth. "We do not ever fucking speak about that."

—and since fucking our bride until the sun breaks over the peaks is now out of the picture thanks to your grand human intellect... let me loose. Let us go for a run. I want to chase something. I want to race with the wind until we can no longer smell her scent on our skin.

I closed my eyes, rubbing a hand across my face as the vision of the pitch-black, freezing woods rose up to greet me.

“Absolutely fucking not, Siren. I know your game.

Oh, come now. We have a whole kingdom of frozen forest. Let me loose, Varul.

“No,” I muttered, turning away from the window and throwing myself onto the edge of the massive bed I rarely ever used. “We are staying inside tonight and for the rest of the nights to come until you get over that childish impulse of yours. I have no desire to take another bath tonight."

Siren let out a long, dramatic, suffering sigh, laying his heavy head down on his paws in the dark recesses of my mind. Fine. We shall continue torturing ourselves in the dark like mourners. But remember this, Alpha—the princess finally knows the truth now. She knows we want her. And I know now what she tastes like. You cannot fight both of us forever.

I buried my face in my hands, listening to the beast settle into a restless, brooding quiet. Siren was not wrong. Keeping my hands off my wife was a war I was rapidly losing.