Page 15 of Bound to Four Alphas (Silverthorn Alphas #1)

Selena glanced at Ronan, and at his nod of approval she smiled at Iveir and took his proffered arm as he led her out of the hall and into the gardens, Malek trailing after them. She tried not to be frustrated. She had promised Ronan not to be alone without any of them.

The gardens were beautiful, the scent of jasmine thick in the air, lanterns nestled into the branches of ancient, curling trees. People were dancing around the great fire, drunk and laughing, and music drifted through the rose bushes.

“How long have you known Kaelen?” she asked after a stretch of silence as they meandered through the garden, admiring its beauty and appreciating the fresh night air.

A small smile curved over Iveir’s lips. “His whole life. I served his father, watched him grow up, even helped train him. He is like a son to me.”

“That’s lovely,” she said, her voice halting. “I’m glad he has you.”

“Your words are very kind, my lady. For my part I cannot tell you how much joy it gives me to see him mated at last, and to an omega of astounding beauty, no less.”

She blushed. “Yes, well, it was all rather sudden.”

“As I have gathered,” he said, turning to Malek. “It appears you have a shadow.”

She winced, “There was an … altercation earlier. With Prince Damien. I promised not to go anywhere alone.”

“Yes, I saw,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “Selena, how much do you know about Kaelen’s history with the humans?”

She chewed her lip. “I know that they killed his father,” she said, “and that he wanted to retaliate, but that Ronan’s father refused to help.”

Iveir nodded gravely. “Kaelen was young. He had been out with friends, exploring, drinking, enjoying his youth. He found his father’s body and has never stopped blaming himself. He demanded blood, and he had every right to do so, but he didn’t think clearly, and it almost caused a war with the wolves. It was fortunate that Ronan was able to take control of the western clan and reinstate peace. But tensions were high, and Kaelen has never forgotten what such a rash decision nearly cost him. The weight of responsibility, the burden of it—he carries it heavier than most.”

Selena stopped walking, raising an eyebrow. “Did he send you to try and get me to listen to him? Because I’m not going to. I appreciate that he just wants to look after me, but I won’t let him push me around.”

Iveir laughed. “Quite right, too; that boy needs to be put in his place every once in a while. And no, to answer your question, he didn’t send me. He’s busy brooding with some of his advisors, sorting out political matters when he should be having fun. I simply wanted to meet you, and officially welcome you as the mate of our king.”

“Oh,” was all Selena could say, suddenly bashful at her assumption.

Iveir smiled kindly. “Don’t worry, it’s clear how young you still are, how intimidating all this must seem. But I wanted to reassure you that we are loyal.”

“Thank you,” she said, warmth blooming in her chest. She decided that she liked Iveir, liked how honest he was.

“I must go,” he said, taking her hand and patting it in an almost fatherly way. “Kaelen needs reminding not to be a complete ass, and I would be happy to carry out that particular task.”

With a small bow, he turned, leaving Selena alone with Malek. He walked up beside her as they watched Iveir leave.

“That one is…” Malek said, searching for the right word. “Honorable, I think.’

“I think so too,” she said, “and I think you are as well. Honorable.”

He blinked in shock, his face unnaturally still, and she sighed. He kept his secrets close. There was still a prickle of fear at the base of her spine, but she ignored it as she pushed herself into his arms, straining up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

His breathing shuttered slightly, but he closed his eyes and lowered his head, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. Despite the curl of desire deep in her core, she pulled away, nestling into his chest, wrapping her arms as far around him as she could manage. He paused, before returning the embrace, his movements cautious.

“Why are you so hesitant?” she asked before she could rethink her words, cringing at how rude the question must have seemed. But it had been plaguing her for a while now, and her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

He was silent for a while, unnaturally still as he held her. “I am…” he said after a while, “not like the other three. I have not always been like this. Not always been able to … control myself. And I am scared of hurting you.”

His words were measured, but Selena could hear the pain behind them, the longing. She hugged him tighter. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me, Malek.”

He sucked in a ragged breath, and did not reply to her; instead, his arms grew tight as he buried his face in her hair, his chest rising and falling with unspoken emotion. She let him hold her, let him work through whatever emotion he needed to, and just enjoyed breathing in his warm scent.

Eventually, he pulled away slightly. “Selena, if anything ever happened to you because I lost control, I would—”

A twig snapped and Malek’s head whipped to the side, his entire body tensing under her touch. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond, his eyes searching the tree line beyond the garden, nostrils flaring as he scented the air.

“Malek, what is it?”

A deep growl rumbled low in his chest, his eyes more beast-like than human, and Selena felt a twinge of fear.

“Malek, please, you’re scaring me!”

He ignored her, releasing her to walk a few steps towards the trees, shadows pooling at his feet. Another twig snapped and he snarled, dropping low to the floor, some of his human features changing, fading, a hint of the beast within revealing itself.

“Maybe we should go back,” she said, taking a few steps away from him, but it was no use. It was like he had forgotten she was there, so intent was he on whatever he had heard in the forest. “Malek, I really think—”

He was off in a burst of speed and shadow, thundering over the grass, transforming completely into the beast she recognized from the meadow where she’d first seen him.

In a matter of seconds, he was gone, leaving her alone in the gardens.

She took a step back. Then another, then another.

Shit. Shit.

She had promised Ronan not to be alone. At the time it was just to placate him, but now … now she felt the fear growing.

Whatever Malek had heard, whatever he had gone after, clearly it was dangerous. And she didn’t want to be anywhere near it. They had managed to walk right to the border of the gardens, and although she could hear the revelers nearby, she couldn’t see them. Didn’t know them.

The memory of Damien’s sneer as he looked her up and down flashed before her, and she stumbled backwards, throat turning dry. If he found her alone and unprotected, there was no saying what he would do.

“This is fine, it’s fine,” she said to herself as she slowly backed towards the hall, doing her best to blend into the shadows and keep attention off herself, cursing the sparkling jewels in her hair, at her ears, hanging from her neck.

Frantically, she searched the crowds of people, looking for one of her mates. The hour was getting later, and everyone seemed to be getting drunker, louder, scarier.

She couldn’t see them outside, so she slipped into the hall but was immediately met with a wall of tall bodies pushing and shoving. She considered calling out, but quickly decided against it. It would just as easily draw the wrong sort of attention as the right.

Edging through the throngs of people, she made it to the edge of the hall where tables laden with delicious food spilled over golden platters. Slowly, she worked her way towards the other end, sticking close to the wall and scanning for any sign of Elian or Ronan. She was less keen to find Kaelen, given his sour mood, but she would take it.

But still, no sign of them. And she had no desire at all to push back into the crowd to try and find them.

Tentatively, she sniffed the air. She was fairly certain that even with her human nose she would be able to identify her mates by scent alone. But it was no use, there were too many bodies, too many different clashing smells—she didn’t stand a chance. She half-wondered why they hadn’t come to find her. She was surely stinking up the entire hall with anxiety. Most likely, they weren’t here; many people had spread outside and through the rest of the old temple.

She considered her options. She could stay at the party, mingling and chatting, find a member of the wolf clan or someone to stay with until she found one of her alphas. She could explore, try and find them outside or further within the temple. Or, she could head up to the safety of her rooms and lock herself in, trusting them to find her by scent.

Part of her wondered why she was being so cautious in the first place, a voice urging her to relax and enjoy herself, but the memory of Malek’s wild eyes had set her teeth on edge. And she’d always trusted her gut instincts.

She decided to go back to her room. No doubt Ronan would be angry with her, but it wasn’t her fault that Malek had run off. She was sure he would understand. So, she picked up her skirts and left the hall, running up the staircase where only a few hours ago, she and Malek had descended together.

It was dark, candles having burnt themselves low, and shadowy figures flitted past her, chasing each other and losing themselves to the drunken reverie. Her heart stuttered every time someone appeared, but they paid her no mind, choosing instead to pursue their own pleasures. She breathed out. She was being paranoid.

But then, faintly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, but there was nobody there, the empty corridor stretching out into darkness.

Turning back around, she resolved to get to her room as quickly as possible. She was just on edge. That was it. There was nothing wrong.

She took three careful steps, and then the footfalls on stone sounded again, much closer this time, and she couldn’t help the squeak that escaped as she abandoned all attempts at nonchalance and fled.

She couldn’t tell if it was the pounding of her heart or the steady beat of footsteps chasing after her resounding in her ears.

Barely managing to reach the door of her room without tripping over the gauzy silver skirt, she wrenched it open and tumbled inside, slamming it shut and turning the bolt.

Her chest was heaving, sweat prickling the back of her neck.

There.

Footsteps. They were definitely footsteps.

The room was silent but for the beating of her heart as she leaned forward, pressing an ear to the heavy oak of the door.

They got closer, closer, closer …

Her heart stopped as they paused outside her door-

And nothing.

The footsteps continued, fading as whoever it was walked away.

She released her breath in a great whoosh of air, stumbling back from the door.

She really was being paranoid.

A hand wrapped around her mouth, stifling her scream, the sharp point of a dagger pressed into her back.

“Make one single sound,” a voice hissed in her ear, “and you’re dead.”