Page 6 of Ruined by His Alpha King (Reluctant Fae Princes #3)

Seidrik

Dinner in Liaberos with his father had always been a miserable affair.

The food would be bland, and despite this, everyone would proclaim it the best they ever had.

Goddesses forbid someone use a spice or salt for once.

So, when seated at the Croatens’ castle dining table, he glanced around at a less grandiose affair.

A roast timber goose sat at the center, surrounded by dishes of varying colors, well-seasoned and richly scented.

His mouth watered, and he knew immediately why Stamel, Lumic, and Kershai were such large males.

Even Ingred, as thin as he was, had height and strength behind his slim figure.

Before they ate in Liaberos, his father had a priest recite a blessing, but an awkward gesture from Askara of praise and a muttered thank you for this bounty , sufficed.

And then they portioned out their own food and ate.

Nobody waited for Pallosar to eat first or serve himself. Seidrik froze in uncertainty.

“We’re informal, dear. Unless we’re entertaining, we eat casually.” Pallosar waved a fork at him.

“But… Am I not…” Seidrik stared at his empty plate.

“You’re family, now. I’m not putting in any extra effort for you.

Now shoo. Eat, or would you rather I give you a lecture, wag my fork, and send you to bed hungry because I stubbed my toe last fourthday and just now thought to make it someone else’s problem?

” Pallosar glared at him, and Seidrik’s cheeks burned with the effort it took not to laugh.

“Laugh, child. Nobody is tattling back to Alluin.” Kershai snorted.

Stamel nudged Seidrik in his side. “I might. ”

Seidrik couldn’t help the fierce burn that came over his cheeks, so he distracted himself by plating food from every tureen that passed, dead set on eating something that tasted good.

Everyone tucked in, including a little boy at the end of the table with a shock of red—Tyran.

Stamel let an attendant feed his child, careful to keep his clothes clean until dessert came and he excused himself with the boy, taking a few bites of cake hurriedly before toddling up to him. “Come, little one. We get a bath and bedtime.”

Seidrik sighed in relief as the two left and ended the night with an apéritif while they lounged in their family quarters. A little nip of alcohol did him good, a strong tallroot distillate that burned with bitter, rich, sweet notes all the way down.

They talked of normal things, of family events to come, about their little one. Askara was as innocent to ill fortune as anyone had a right to be and smiled so easily. Part of Seidrik wished it had been him. It hurt to watch, so he excused himself to wash up and go to bed.

When he entered his room, the first thing he noticed was that his trunk lid had been left ajar.

The socks that he’d carefully twisted about his vials lay half unraveled across the opposite edge of the neat row of folded clothes.

No. No. No! Seidrik ran to it and pawed at the sock, finding it strangely heavy, a dozen vials stuffed inside of it. “What the…”

When he tipped the contents onto the clothes of his case, a slew of nightflower tincture and honeythistle water lay out for all to see. “By the goddess…”

A shadow darkened his doorway. “Hey.”

Seidrik turned, his heart pounding. “What is this? ”

Stamel, who stood there with an unreadable expression, shrugged. “Medicine. How should I know?”

“Well, it was obvious you that put it there.” Seidrik stared at the vials. He’d never had so much at a time before. It would last him months.

“I did. I went to the healer’s quarters and asked Jori for it.” Stamel strode across Seidrik’s room and settled into a chair.

“And he didn’t question?” Seidrik opened one vial then another, taking a sip of each. The tincture burned, and the water warmed his tongue, but it settled in him easily.

“No. He probably thinks I have a paramour to provide for, or one of Askara’s protected omegas.

Though, do yourself a favor and do take a full dose.

I can get as much of it as I please. I’ll be bringing a case of it back with us after I visit the merchant’s guild.

” Stamel lounged, spreading his legs wide, as if he needed to own every inch of open space he could.

Seidrik did so, relishing the luxury of a full dose for once. “Thank you.”

Stamel waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t thank me just yet. The goddess has instructed me to punish you.”

Seidrik’s blood ran cold. The bitter taste on his lips of nightflower still lingered. “It’s poison…isn’t it?”

“No.” Stamel gestured for Seidrik to come over. “I have something I wish to give you, instead. Perhaps we can call it a trade. I will take something precious from you, and in return give you something.”

The ominous tone hung in the air, and despite the warm evening, a chill went through him, raising the hairs along his arms. “As the goddess commands…”

Like a sugarmoth to lantern glass, Seidrik drew himself inexorably toward Stamel, entering the field of his shine.

The draw of him was so incredibly bright, and all he could think of was hours ago when those large hands slipped into his trousers and brought him off like magic.

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled free of his lips.

“I liked it. Earlier. You’re very good at it . ”

Stamel shrugged. “How would you know? When stranded in a desert, you can convince a man that anything is vitalis. Do you trust me?”

“Not really. You tried to kill your brother.” Seidrik still drew in closer, standing in the hollow between Stamel’s legs. The alpha didn’t move to touch, though.

“And you lied of your brother’s thalms. You let Alluin punish your brother for what he was and said nothing. You even suggested he be offered up to the Drashili king, thinking he’d suffer.” Stamel met his gaze, blue eyes to blue, locked in a stalemate without touch.

“We are not the same,” Seidrik whispered.

“And yet here we are.” Stamel leaned back in his chair and shrugged. He smelled so good, like fresh-cut tinder maple and medicine. Seidrik inhaled deeply. “A would-be murderer and a hypocrite.”

Shame burned Seidrik’s cheeks. “I have a thousand excuses for what I did. None of them good enough.”

“Same. Can we agree that we deserve each other’s company?

” Stamel huffed and remained infuriatingly still.

Seidrik wanted him to touch, to make that first move, to beckon him, and more.

A quick glance toward Stamel’s groin brought unsettling desire into Seidrik’s body, the prominent bulge of him gratuitous and on intentional display through thin trousers.

“From one traitor to another,” Seidrik whispered and fell to his knees.

It’d been difficult to rankle Stamel, his posture and personality such that nothing ever surprised him. So, when Seidrik sat before him, staring up, pure gratification sat heavy in his chest over the tick of his eyebrows shooting up.

“Well. Well.” Stamel spread his legs a little, gesturing Seidrik closer. “What do you intend to do down there, my virginal little beta .”

Seidrik winced at the way he said it. “Don’t tease me.”

“I don’t tease men.” Stamel leaned back, luxuriating. “I break them.”

Seidrik swallowed as a chill ran down his spine, sending goose bumps racing over his arms. “I don’t need breaking.”

“Do you?” Stamel shifted his hips in the seat, the wood chair creaking as his hardening cock tented the fabric of his trousers.

It had to have been on purpose, advertising his girth in front of Seidrik.

An omega in hiding, one who’d never even seen the cock of another male… barring aiding his mother in diapering.

Stamel tensed when Seidrik pitched himself forward and pulled apart the ties of his breeches.

Powerful fingers clenched at the armrests of the chair, his firm length springing up with a heavy bob.

The fresh scent of clean skin and the warmth of his body lured Seidrik in.

Drool pooled beneath his tongue, and he swallowed, the metallic wash of it a reminder of how parched he’d been in a supernatural way.

The kind of parched that the bead of precum at the tip of Stamel’s impressive length could cure.

“What happened to all that bravado you had a second ago?” Stamel reached forward tracing a thick, rough finger down Seidrik’s jawline. “Open.”

And with little resistance, Stamel had stolen every bit of control Seidrik had. He parted his lips, trembling as that single finger crooked and provided the gentlest pressure, drawing him in. “I know you’ve never done this before. I don’t think you’re ready for it, but who am I to tell you no ? ”

Seidrik whimpered, the noise breaking in his throat before he gave in to Stamel’s pull. Before he could do anything about it, the wet tip touched his lower lip. He stuck his tongue out to taste it, a quick dart that made it jump with a pulse. As did Seidrik, pulling back with a shudder of pleasure.

“You’re eager, though. Explore me, Seidrik. Tell me how I feel and taste in your hands.” Stamel licked his lips and hummed, drawing Seidrik in for a hollow breath.

“You taste salty. And you smell clean.” Seidrik reached one hand to circle Stamel’s girth, his fingers unable to meet around it without considerable effort that seemed like it might hurt, and he may have been a virgin, but even he was smart enough to know not to grip a cock that firmly.

“And you’re much bigger than me, here, and here too.

” Seidrik drew his other hand in to cup Stamel’s heavy sac, treasuring the warmth of them, the soft hair as it crushed against his palm, as red as that of his head.

Redder still than his cheeks must have been if the burn across them was any indicator.

“I bathed not too long ago.” Stamel closed his eyes for a second, humming as Seidrik explored his flesh.