Page 22 of Bound to Four Alphas (Silverthorn Alphas #1)

Dinner had been a similarly gentle affair, and Selena sat back with Caeda and watched her mates snark and banter and talk to one another, her tiredness only allowing her to appreciate the conversation rather than try and get involved.

She had fallen asleep curled in between Kaelen and Elian on the massive four-poster bed, Ronan already snoring in his wolf-form by the fire, and Malek preferring to stay awake through the night to thumb through the books from the enormous bookshelf. Despite the comfort, her exhaustion, and the proximity of her mates, her sleep was not easy. Malek had leaned over Elian several times to shake her awake from a nightmare, earning himself a strike from the startled Fae more than once.

When she woke, groggy and exhausted, she had to fight the urge to smack Elian herself due to his chipper mood.

“Come on,” he sang, half-pulling her out of Kaelen’s slumbering embrace and into the cold air. “We need to go to my laboratory and work out what’s going on with all that magic of yours!”

Ronan opened one yellow eye, the irritation clear. “Just because the Fae can recover faster than us shifters,” he growled, “doesn’t mean I won’t injure you enough to be bed-bound for days if you don’t shut up .”

“Oops,” Elian said with a cheeky wink to Selena, “I think we woke the dog up.”

Ronan’s snarls followed them as Elian pulled her out of the room and down the corridor.

Elian’s laboratory was the result of centuries of research, and it showed. It was a vast space deep underground, half taken up with dusty shelves filled with bottles and scrolls and boxes, enough trinkets to keep her occupied for hours if he hadn’t warned her not to touch anything. She was tempted to ignore him, but then she swore she saw something move in a dust-coated jar right at the back and decided perhaps he did know best.

The rest of the space was filled with a myriad of workbenches, herbs and plants meticulously labeled and within easy reach of a gorgeous jade pestle and mortar set, alongside a variety of instruments that ranged from rustically sweet to downright terrifying.

“What do you even make down here?” she asked, eyes wide as she picked up a long metal needle nearly as thick as her pinky finger.

He snatched it off her, returning it to its set. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, eventually you want to try anything and everything out. Now, where in the name of the Forest God did I put my black salt, everything seems to have moved around!”

“I always forget you’re technically the oldest,” she said, her forefinger tracing over the spines of ancient, leather-bound tomes, the smell of ink and parchment thick.

“Technically,” he rolled his eyes, still digging through his things, “although biologically I’m actually the youngest. Different rates of aging.”

“How old are you?”

His brows knitted together as he considered the question. “Eight hundred and thirty-six, I think.”

Her jaw dropped. “You think? You’re not actually sure?”

“Hey, you asked! That’s like me asking you how many weeks old you are, you would have to guess. If I was to compare myself to a human ,” he physically shuddered at the word, “I’m about twenty-five.”

“And the others?”

“Shifters don’t normally live as long as the Fae, although aging for all magical beings is much less rigid than for humans. Not nearly so many rules. If a God’s magic decrees it, our lives can be extended with ease. I would say, using the human comparison, Ronan’s probably what you would consider thirty, and Kaelen’s a bit older, maybe late thirties? Forty? But aging works differently for us, anyway. At his age, Kaelen’s in his prime for his species.’

“And Malek?”

“You’ve seen him,” Elian shrugged. “I don’t think it works the same way at all for him. There is no comparison.”

Selena chewed her lip, feeling immediately overwhelmed with just how young and inexperienced she was, and with dread over her next question.

“And me?”

Elian paused, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in her scent. “What do you mean?”

She scratched a nail over the oak of one of his workbenches, suddenly shy. “I mean, I’m only eighteen, but I’m a human. I’ll live another sixty, maybe seventy years if I’m lucky. And there are lots of rules for us. No God ever intervenes in our lifespans.”

Her eyes pricked with heat as she considered it, the reality hitting her with revelation after revelation. What about her child? If it was magical, what if it aged differently? She could be eighty by the time it was learning to walk. Would she really miss all that? And her mates, what would her mates do when she was gone?

Elian pulled her into an embrace, his voice thick with worry. “Selena, I didn’t realize you hadn’t worked it out, I’m sorry.”

“Worked what out?” She pulled away to glance up at him.

He looked at her incredulously, “You’re not human. You never have been, not entirely. The magic inside you, it’s because of what you are. That’s why we’re here, I need to work out what that is.”

Her eyes widened with shock. “I thought the magic in me was because of the bond? Because the villagers sacrificed me to the forest?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “The sacrifice didn’t give you magic. It woke up the magic that was inside you all along.’

“So, what are you saying, that I’m like you?” she whispered, hope fluttering in her chest.

He smiled indulgently. “That’s what we’re going to work out.”

She squeaked as without warning he picked her up and deposited her on the workbench.

“Now sit still and let me run through some experiments.”

As it turned out, she didn’t have to do much as he worked, just sit and answer basic questions as they came. Despite all the paraphernalia surrounding them, he mostly used his own magic, against the healers’ advice she noted with a growl, and the shadows curled and licked pleasantly against her skin. He also provided her with a few books on the histories of the Realm which she tore through with delight.

It must have been close to midday when they were disturbed, two Fae guards walking into the laboratory with purpose. They stopped short when they saw Elian.

“Gentlemen?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

They didn’t respond, their faces carefully blank. Too blank.

In fact, their eyes were almost entirely vacant, pupils tiny pinpricks despite the low light, their irises gray and muted.

“Can I help you?” Elian asked, his voice slightly harder. It seemed he had noticed the odd behavior as well.

“Apologies, Lord Elian,” one of them said, his voice thin and quiet, “we didn’t know we’d be disturbing you.”

Elian moved in front of her, his tall frame blocking her from view, his scent spiking with something dark and angry. “Did my father send you?”

The guards glanced at each other. “No,” one of them said at last, “we’ll leave you in peace.”

They turned and left, their silver-plated armor echoing from the stone walls.

“That was weird,” said Selena, pulling on Elian’s shirt so that he turned around. “Are all your guards so … lifeless?”

She had meant it to lighten the mood, but Elian’s face when he turned around sent shivers of ice creeping up her spine.

“No,” he said, “they’re not.”

She swallowed a gulp.

His expression loosened and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “The mystery deepens.”

The rest of the day passed with little by way of discovery. By the time Elian was nearly pulling his hair out in frustration, she hopped down from the bench and tugged his hand. “Maybe we should call it a day?”

Throwing his head back, he let out a distinctly childish groan. “I should be able to work it out, but your pregnancy is throwing all kinds of complications into it. The magic in you, its essence, keeps changing. I can’t keep up.”

“You’ll get there,” she smiled, the omega in her driving her to want to comfort her agitated mate. “We’ll work it out. Together. Now come on, it must be nearly dinner time, I’m starving!”

When they got back to the Northern Suite, Selena giggled to see Ronan and Kaelen still very much asleep, their great hulking forms snoring softly in the darkened room. Malek glanced up as they entered, surrounded by piles of books inside a little nest he’d constructed near the fire. Hopping over Ronan’s tail, she joined him, curling into his arms and asking him about what he had read.

“Is it morning?” Kaelen blinked and sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes.

“Not quite,” replied Elian, “but I didn’t want to wake you beauty queens up. Shall I have dinner sent up?”

Kaelen rolled back over with what Selena thought was a muffled assent.

It took a while, and the promise of food, to finally drag Kaelen and Ronan out of their sleep. As they dressed, platters piled high with meat and bread and cheese appeared, startling Selena and making her mouth water.

Just as they were settling on the cushions before a great roaring fire that Elian had sparked to life, there was a pounding at the door.

“Elian!” Caeda’s voice was muffled through the thick wood. “Elian, Phaendar has summoned you to the throne room!”

Elian’s brow furrowed as he opened the door, revealing his sheepish sister alongside a few Fae handmaidens holding goblets of liquid.

“He wants to see you and the other alphas.”

Elian glanced back at Selena, his jaw working. “Not Selena?”

Caeda shook her head. “Syllia here brought the message. He’s heard of Selena’s … condition, and doesn’t want to disturb her rest. But given three of your packmates are rulers of their own territories…”

“He made us wait,” finished Elian. “Typical political nonsense.”

“One of us should stay with Selena,” argued Ronan, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she smiled at him, “you won’t be gone long, and I’ll be safe here.”

“Of course she will be,” said Caeda, sweeping into the room with the handmaidens, “I’ll stay with her. We’ll eat and drink and gossip, I can tell her all about the time Elian released a wild boar into the—”

“Yes, alright, thank you, Caeda,” Elian growled at his sister. “it’s just a formality. Posturing. We won’t be long. I’ve got some questions of my own for him, like why the hell he wasn’t at the gate.”

Ronan and Kaelan seemed hesitant, but relented when Elian cast a few wards on the door that prevented anyone from entering.

“We won’t be long, little dove.” Elian kissed her forehead before leading her other mates away to meet his father. Selena shuddered. She was grateful not to have to face the wily old lord in her tired state.

“So,” Caeda flopped onto the cushions in front of the fire, patting the space next to her for Selena to join, “you’re mated to my brother? How did that happen, he won’t tell me.”

“It’s a long story.” Selena lowered herself onto the rug next to her. “I’m more interested in what Elian was like before I met him. He’s very good at evading my questions when he wants to.”

Caeda snickered, gesturing to a handmaiden to hand them each a goblet of pomegranate juice. “Yes, he’s always been like that, ever since I was a child. I used to pester him relentlessly with questions, Father never let me outside you see. Elian was far too skilled at only answering the ones he wanted to.”

Selena laughed as Caeda took a long sip of the juice, and Selena raised her own cup to her lips. The pomegranate was sharp and tangy on her tongue, and she nearly moaned at the explosion of flavors.

“Of course, I was much better at finding out information than he ever knew. When I was eight, I learnt how to pick locks and got into his … into his …in-to…”

Caeda collapsed forward, the goblet hitting the stone floor with a sharp clang, the ruby liquid seeping over the marble. Selena gasped and lurched towards her, but her own eyelids grew heavy. Her mind foggy. Her limbs numb.

As she slumped over, the last thing she saw was the sweep of a handmaiden’s skirt. Darkness enveloped her.