Page 11 of Owned by Four Alphas (Silverthorn Alphas #2)

“Again,” Elian’s voice brooked no arguments, despite the sweat running down her forehead, despite the tremble in her hands,

“Elian, I’m too tired. Please, can we take a break?” she begged, biting her lip at him.

He merely laughed. “That sort of trick may work on Ronan, but it’s not going to work on me. If you want me to get the books from the archive for you this afternoon, then you’re going to have to do things my way.”

She rolled her eyes, taking a few steady breaths. They had been working on her magic for what felt like hours, but the sun had barely shifted in the sky beyond the arching windows. Since her outburst at the Winter’s End feast, and a few other—albeit much smaller ones—since, Elian had switched his teaching to entirely focus on control.

Today, he was trying to get her to the point where she could hold the magic stable around her, a calm blanket instead of a violent storm.

It wasn’t going very well.

She braced herself as Elian’s shadows spread from his fingertips, swirling over the rugs towards her, a thick cloud of magical energy. As it got closer, malevolent and searching, her own magic sparked in defense, lashing out from her skin.

“Picture it settling,” Elian urged, pulling back his shadows ever so slightly, “like a suit of armor around you instead of arrows flying from you. You want it to be defensive, not offensive.”

She ground her teeth together, finding the strands of magic within her, tugging and wrestling with them. They hissed and writhed under her touch, escaping to bite back against Elian’s magic, refusing to settle into the shape she tried to force them into.

Truthfully, it was everything she could do to keep it under control and not exploding entirely from her.

Elian withdrew his shadows, a heavy frown on his beautiful face. “I don’t think this approach is working.”

“You don’t say,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath, her muscles trembling with the effort of keeping her body under her own control. Her magic skittered over her skin, agitated and angry, leaving streaks of silver light in their wake.

“Perhaps using my magic is too aggressive at this point. I am, after all, devastatingly powerful.”

“Elian.”

“Not to mention undeniably handsome.”

“Elian!”

“And, of course, wickedly intelligent.”

Against her will, a bubble of laughter burst from her, and Elian’s eyes brightened at the sound.

“What do you suggest instead?”

A glint in his eye was the only warning she got before he launched at her, fingers arched into claws to swipe at her. She squealed, throwing her arms over her head, but the impact never came. Blinking, she lowered her hands to see Elian hovering over her, his fingers a mere hair’s breadth from her stomach.

“Fascinating,” he said, “it seems that your magic doesn’t lash out at physical threats. How odd.”

“Well, I know you wouldn’t actually attack me!” Selena half-shrieked, batting at his chest. “I was shocked, not scared!”

“Hmm,” Elian’s grin was positively wicked. “How about we try something else?”

Instantly, she was on guard. “Like what?”

“Close your eyes, little dove.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What are you going to do?”

He grinned, “Do you trust me?”

She chewed her lip. He had just pretended to attack her. But then again, surely he wouldn’t actually hurt her?

With the sinking realization that if she wanted those books, she would have to listen to him, she closed her eyes, her muscles tense and ready to flinch away.

Elian tutted, “So suspicious.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hush, little dove. Just concentrate on breathing.”

She huffed but obeyed, focusing on drawing deep lungfuls of air in and out of her body.

Her magic flickered over skin, suddenly agitated.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said.

She clenched her fists together in concentration.

The first flicker against her ankles she could have mistaken for a draft. But as the sensation traveled up her legs, becoming warmer and more insistent against her skin, she realized what was happening.

“Elian…” she said, a small tremor in her voice, “Elian, is that…”

“My shadows,” he said, his voice suddenly low and gravelly. “Maybe if my magic isn’t attacking…yours will be less aggressive.”

The shadows brushed further, curling over her knees, as heavy against her as hands. They crept up and her magic flared slightly but settled down as the tendrils gently caressed her inner thighs.

“Oh,” she gasped, familiar heat pooling in her belly.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Elian’s voice was close, right behind her, his breath tickling her ear.

She squeaked, falling back into him, her legs widening as his shadows reached higher. Her magic thrummed, more solid, more curious than aggressive.

Elian’s hands settled on her sides, his thumbs grazing the underside of her breasts, and she fought back a moan. His shadows brushed over the fabric of her underwear, the barest hint of pressure against her throbbing heat.

“Try and solidify your magic around you,” Elian whispered into her ear, his hands moving up to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over her stiffening nipples.

She gulped as the shadows pressed against her again, the pleasure mixing with frustration. Gritting her teeth, she felt for her magic, coaxing it into the shape she imagined. It fluttered, stretching, and Elian’s fingers pressed harder against her nipples, sending jolts of heat to her core.

“Oh! I…I…”

“Keep going, little dove,” he murmured, the shadows now moving against her in a solid rhythm, not quite hard enough to bring her pleasure, but enough to worsen the ache of need within her.

She sucked in a breath, grasping the magic, stretching it further over herself, molding it to her shape.

“Well done, keep going,” Elian urged, his shadows rubbing harder now, the pressure building low in her belly, hot and delicious. A whine escaped her, and she tried to buck her hips against the shadows, but Elian kept them just out of reach.

“Come on, Selena, concentrate,” he said, hands still massaging her aching breasts.

She whined but obeyed, her magic flowing through her. She was close to success now, her magic was soft and pliant, wrapping around her, calmer than it had ever been.

“That’s it, you’re doing it,” Elian said, pushing his shadows harder against her, the delicious friction nearly enough to send her over the edge.

Clenching her fists, she focused on strengthening it, on letting it coat her. She was nearly there, she had nearly done it…

A sharp, stabbing pain radiated from her thigh where Elian’s magic had burned her.

The consequence was instantaneous.

Instantly any control she had slipped from her fingers and her magic lashed out, throwing Elian away from her, lashing around her in furious waves. The windows rattled and she gasped, reaching inwards, fighting to subdue it again.

Elian staggered to his feet with a curse, his eyes narrowed. “Fuck, I thought you really had it that time.”

“I…I nearly did but you…you burned me!”

“Your enemies won’t exactly be causing you pleasure,” he said, frustration raising his voice. “I thought you got it under control. Clearly, I was wrong!”

Shame burned hot on her cheeks, her magic still thrashing under her grasp. “Maybe if you’d have given me some warning, I might have—”

“That’s not the point, Selena,” he growled, “you will have no warning. You need to be able to control yourself when things surprise you!”

Seeing the crestfallen look on her face, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, let’s try again tomorrow. I’ll get you those books.”

She nodded, her throat painful and thick, and didn’t say goodbye before leaving the workshop.

As she made her way through the palace towards the library, shame and anger clashed inside her, settling uncomfortably in her stomach. Elian could dress it up however he liked, but the truth remained—she was getting worse, not better. These days, she was having to give more and more energy to keeping her magic under control. It seemed to want to burst from her at the slightest provocation.

Approaching voices brought her out of her reverie, and she quickly straightened her back, pasting a pleasant look on her face. Two nobles, alpha Fae, were walking towards her. When they saw her, they fell silent.

She smiled at them as they passed, resisting the urge to curtsy to them. They smiled back, thin and altogether most unfriendly, merely nodding their heads to her.

Sighing, she continued down the corridor, only to stop short when she heard one of them lean over and whisper to the other, “Such a shame Lord Elian is mated to her. I hear she’s only getting weaker.”

“What did you say?” she turned, her voice raised, fists balling at her side.

The Fae male turned back, a wicked tilt to his smirk, “Oh! Your Highness, my apologies, I didn’t say anything! Perhaps you’re hearing things. All that training must be…tiring for you.”

The other male tittered. Her blood began to heat.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth together, “I can assure you my hearing is not at fault. I’d like to know what you said.”

The male raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I don’t know to what you’re referring, Your Highness.”

“You had something to say about Lord Elian. About how it’s a shame I’m mated to him. Isn’t that right?”

Stupid nobles. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard them whispering, wasn’t the first disrespectful comment she’d received. She’d ignored it all, kept her head held high, told herself that it was mere gossip and nothing more.

But her magic was still crackling in her veins, her emotions still high, tears still threatening to fall after her…her… disappointing Elian.

“Your Majesty, I can assure you that we have no problem with Lord Elian being mated to a… ahem …human.”

“Oh really?” she snapped, “Because it sounds to me like you’ve got a problem with it. So why don’t you tell me? Let’s get it all out into the open! I’ve had enough of you Fae and your stupid lack of clarity and your hidden thoughts and your condescension —”

“Your Majesty,” the male said, his eyes widening with fear as her skin began to glow, as her fingertips began to thrum with power.

“No! Don’t you dare call me that to my face when all you have are cruel words behind my back!”

The candles flickered, the shadows danced, and her blood sang for release.

The Fae were backing away slowly, exchanging frantic glances, “Really, Your Highness, we didn’t mean it, it wasn’t—”

A window shattered with a piercing crash, shards of glass raining down onto the floor.

The males dropped low into a defensive stance, weapons materializing into their hands, their eyes wide and frightened.

Selena staggered backwards, her magic pulsing through her, building, falling, crashing, burning .

She couldn’t control it. Another window smashed. She tried, desperately tried, but it was swallowing her whole.

Glass crunched underfoot as she stumbled, her vision blurring with silver light. Flashes of her father’s face, of fire, of pure, shining magic threatened to blind her.

An almighty cracking echoed from above her, and shards of marble began to fall, striking the ground and splitting the stones. The males scrambled for cover. All she could do was fold in on herself, desperate, blind, and screaming.

She had failed. She was failing. She couldn’t control it, any of it. Elian was right to be disappointed, the nobles were right to be scared. She was scared, terrified, even. Her magic whipped and lashed against her, fighting her every attempt to wrestle it into submission.

More stone fell, larger chunks this time. She looked up just to see a huge piece dislodge directly above her. She threw her arms over her head, bracing for the pain—

It never came.

Kaelan. Kaelen was there, curved blade slicing in a clean arc through the air as he shattered the falling stone. He threw himself over her, covering her body with his own, grunting as rock fell into him.

“Omega,” he roared, every ounce of his power ringing clear in his voice, “Omega, you have to control it!”

She sobbed with the effort, and he flipped her onto her back, his teeth finding her neck. Instantly, every muscle in her body went slack, her arms falling to the ground as he snarled and pressed his body into hers. Her magic thrashed, but Kaelen’s will was indomitable, and his own magic unleashed itself around them. It curled around her, possessive and commanding, and her body could do nothing but give itself over to him entirely.

As the rock stopped falling, as his magic overtook hers, he glanced up at the quivering Fae males. “Leave,” he growled, his voice promising death should they disobey.

They did not disobey. As they fled from Selena, Kaelen swept her up in his arms, his teeth returning to the soft skin of her neck.

“Alpha,” she gasped, her omega taking over.

He wasted no time at all taking her back to their chambers.