The Alpha's Temptation

Eltanin couldn’t sleep the entire night and when sleep finally came, he was woken up with a start by a loud knocking on his chamber door. “Get lost!” he growled and pulled a pillow over his head, but then how do you ask your best friend to get lost who is about to leave. Rigel opened the door and peeped inside.

Eltanin flung the pillow across the chamber towards Rigel who caught it in his hand. Even the guards outside didn’t stop him from entering his chamber. It was something they had come to terms with over their years and years of friendship.

“Get up!” Rigel shouted. He was the only person, apart from his father, who entered his room without needing permission from the guards.

Eltanin growled before he opened one eye and looked at Rigel who was towering over him. “Get up, would you?” It was still dark outside. It was just before dawn, when the last vestiges of the darkness remained in the sky. Even the birds hadn’t woken up yet.

“Have you forgotten that I am leaving and so is the High Priest?” Rigel said, desperation underlining his tone.

“F**k you and f**k the priest!” Eltanin sat up, a dull ache was forming in his head. He had managed to get back to his bedchamber last night with the help of his guards and then flopped onto the bed. Eventually when his body finally gave out, he had closed his eyes and slept. His dreams were full of white chiffon, Felis, gold masks and silver hair.

He got up from the bed, his eyes still heavy lidded, his mind still addled and his senses still full of the scent that wasn’t there. He rubbed his face and then exhaled deeply. To soothe his dry throat, he picked up the pitcher from the bedside table and drank it down. Then he went to the bathroom as Rigel ranted about getting late and other blah blah.

When he came out, he grabbed the tunic that Rigel threw at him to wear and put it on. He didn’t even bother to button up the flap of his breeches. Scrubbing his day-old beard, he said, “I hope it is worth it, else I might end up killing the scribe!” He truly had no intention of meeting an old, wrinkly scribe in long white robes. They all looked similar as if born out of the same mother. But the fact that the High Priest accompanied his scribe was pretty intriguing. He expected a minion from the Cetus Monastery. His antipathy for the priest swelled in his chest. He had to clear his throat of the thickness of contempt that formed. Menkar was a cunning bastard.

“Man, I will leave the moment you have met the scribe. It was you who suggested that this needed to be a hush-hush affair,” Rigel said, irritation lacing his voice at Eltanin’s untoward impatience. He opened the door for him and instantly the guards surrounded the two of them. They walked through the long corridor until they reached a round staircase that ended at a large foyer that opened into a breezeway. Eltanin g*****d as the cool morning breeze ruffled his hair, that was with scented salt and fish as the morning mist rolled from the Jade Sea, He raked his finger through his raven strands. The sun had started to dispel what little darkness was left in the sky and he felt like going back to bed and catching up some more sleep. The torches that lined the pillars burned a soft glow to the pink stone that seemed to blush.

“You look like shit!” Rigel commented, glancing at his face. “Didn’t you sleep last night?”

“No,” he replied as a scowl formed on his face.

Eltanin tucked his fingers in his pockets as the guards rounded a corner and reached the east wing of the palace. It was eerily quiet throughout the entirety of their walk. They arrived at the library where they were to meet the High Priest. Expecting him to be there, without waiting for the guards to open the doors, Eltanin opened them angrily. As the door swung open, he found that there was no one inside. “What the f**k?” he snarled. “Where the f**k is the bloody priest?”

“Calm down!” Rigel said. “The priest is on his way. The guards are doing their job by checking on him and the scribe.” Rigel had used his trusted guards to do mandatory checks before they brought them to meet the king. _{ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​}

Eltanin clenched his jaw and sat down in the large leather armchair behind his desk that creaked under his weight. “This better work,” he mumbled, trying to control his temper.

Rigel sat on the couch and said, “This is only going to work if the scribe knows how to read the ancient text of dark arcana. If they don’t, you can send him packing.”

“I will do it by this afternoon if I don’t see any results!” He drummed his fingers on the armrest as he grew impatient with every passing second. He really wanted to send the scribe away even before meeting him. “I will give him a book to test and—” The door swung open and he saw Menkar standing there, obstructing the view of someone standing right behind him.

The familiar scent instantly hit his nostrils.

A girl peeked from behind Menkar as he bowed to the king.

Eltanin’s entire body stiffened as shock hit him in the gut. He stood up with a jerk and gripped the edges of the table hard. His eye lids grew heavy, as he inhaled her exquisite scent. Sensations overwhelmed him. Waves of shudder rippled through him.

MINE.

The girl whom he had been waiting for, for five hundred years, his entire existence.

Claim.

He was stunned into silence, reeling under the effect.

Protect.

Frozen in place, Eltanin stared at the most extraordinarily beautiful, petite girl he had ever seen. With pouty rosy lips, she was as exquisite as her scent. Realization surged. So, she was the one who had eluded him yet occupied his every thought; who had run away and left him, driving him insane. Why couldn’t he smell her as his mate that time?

His Fae.

His wolf—All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.