“I haven’t returned to the lands of men yet.” This time, Nick reached out. For Arit. His senses took a dizzy spin, his heart thudding, as Nick lifted his hand to cup Arit’s cheek. “You’re twisting yourself into knots over this, aren’t you?”
Arit bit his lip. “Mates don’t run away from each other,” he said, stomach roiling at the raw truth of what he revealed to Nick…and to himself. When had he decided to explore the possibilities of what this mating heat could become? Though Nick had firmly rejected Benjic’s offer, mating Nick was still the last thing Arit should want. The shrewd political maneuvering of his sire wouldn’t stop, and Arit was as ill-equipped to cope with capitol bullshit as ever. He liked his simple life in the Urals, tutoring shifters to embrace their heritage and enjoy the majestic beauty that called their wolfen instincts forward. No matter what Nick chose, being with him would complicate and upend Arit’s world.
But Arit had also seen Nick’s promise. On the patio in the dark the night before. During their hunt. When Nick had stared down to his people in the valley with affection and fierce longing. Arit wasn’t savvy about the games capitol shifters played, but he recognized strength when he saw it. He may not understand what the crown prince meant about improving the lives of the peoples or agree with him, but Arit grasped Nick’s sincerity as well as his determination. For more winters than he could count, Arit hadn’t nurtured any hope for better from those who styled themselves as elders and high alphas, but he believed in Nick.
He believed.
Maybe Arit’s faith was misplaced. The nagging sense that assured him that Nick needed Arit by his side could be misguided, but Arit felt he—only he—could help Nick achieve what he sought for the tribes. He wasn’t sure about a lot. Worry balled his gut. Fear shook him, but still, the desire to be a part of it, joining Nick in some mad quest to change their world, superseded Arit’s concerns and misgivings. Nick could succeed. Arit wanted it more than he wanted his simple life in the Urals, more than the satisfaction of defying his sire, more than anything. If Nick fought for them.
If.
“Mates don’t leave.” He gulped, hoping with all he was and would ever be that he wasn’t repeating his fathers’ mistakes. “Mates stay.”
A shaken sound rumbled in Nick’s chest, his handsome features writ with pained regret. He moved closer, his other arm creeping around Arit’s waist to draw Arit in. “Of course, they do,” Nick said, voice low and husky as he pulled Arit into his embrace. His bare skin brushed like silk against Arit, the temptation of Nick’s hard body and warm muscle bewitching him. “I will not abandon you as your sire did, Arit. If living among the tribes is what you need to be happy, we’ll make our home in the territories.”
“Your business is with the humans.” Arit gulped. “You love them and the life you made with them.”
“We’ll compromise. Work toward an arrangement that suits us both.” He leaned forward to kiss Arit’s eyes shut. “Being together isn’t impossible if both of us are willing to bend. Commit to me, here, tonight, and I will devote myself to you, too. Let’s build a future together, you and I. Help me heal the corrupt ruin of an empire.”
Shuddering, Arit looped his arms around Nick’s neck. In his head, Arit knew Nick had chosen him, at least in part, because mating him cemented Nick’s alliance with Benjic. In spite of rejecting Benjic’s bargain earlier, Nick would find no stronger support in the capitol than what he stood to gain from Arit’s sire, who had thrived not only under the rule of an emperor and during bloody revolution but had also increased his powerbase tenfold in the war’s aftermath. Arit despised his sire, but only an idiot would bet against Benjic.
That the union between Arit and Nick had been blessed by the Goddess with a mating heat to lure them together hadn’t hurt, either. His mate had been raised in the lands of men and brought from the humans new ideas that could revitalize the tribes. Reopening the border to trade and allowing the species to mingle again without fear of punishment constituted a welcome change for many. Encouraging shifters to seek out whatever avocation interested them instead of working the same jobs passed down their respective bloodlines for generations would be a harder sell, especially in the outer territories where tradition was still highly esteemed. Arit wasn’t oblivious to the fact the tribes had misjudged Nick’s alpha nature and his capabilities in his wolf form based on old stereotypes, too, Arit included. By virtue of refusing to be anything other than who he was, the crown prince had already triggered the tribes to reevaluate those outdated notions, but change frightened some. Shifters differed little from humans in that respect. The tribes resisted forces dragging them out of their customary ruts, no matter how beneficial the improvement might be. Mating with a shifter as steeped in tribal traditions as Arit would assuage the hesitation of nervous nellies.
Arit wasn’t sure Nick liked him. How could he? They’d barely met. While Arit admired what he’d seen of the crown prince so far, he was by no means confident they suited one another enough to sustain a long-term relationship. Outside the political considerations, Arit and Nick could be as bad a match as Arit’s dad and his sire. Mating heats were no guarantee of lasting happiness. Arit’s fathers had proven it in abundance.
He stared at Nick, though, both of them with their eyes wide open.
Their mating could fail catastrophically, the hurt inflicted on the mating couple and on subsequent generations like Arit and Benjic’s other children in the capitol. But for the tribes and the future of the empire, they could try.
“Okay,” Arit said, mouth as dry as sandpaper, his heartbeat fluttering.
“Yes?”
Shoving down spiraling insecurities, Arit gulped. “Yes.”
“All right.” Grinning, Nick angled his mouth to one side. He leaned forward, lips seeking Arit’s.
Chapter Nine
Arit had kissed—and been kissed—countless times before. The disaster of his fathers’ failed mating had taught him wariness. Some might argue he’d been too careful of physical intimacy, but he had never claimed to live as a monk nor a saint. For this much at least, Arit knew what to do, what he liked, and how this first kiss would feel.
He was both right…and wrong.
When he tipped his head to greet his mate’s mouth, Arit expected the awkwardness of their teeth clacking. Their mating heat helped, but they were nonetheless strangers who had yet to learn their way to each other. In time, they’d discover the familiarity of how the other moved, be capable of anticipating desires and fully satisfying each one. Someday in the future, and perhaps not long, they would each reward the other’s needs with pleasure unclouded by uncertainty. Creeping doubts would fritter away.
Just not today.
That night, they bumped noses, fumbled caresses, and sliced open a lip on a wolfen canine pushing through Nick’s gums.