WebNovels

Chapter 17 - CHAPTER 17: HEAT AND JEALOUSY

Shadowkeep - The Next Morning

Kieran woke to find Rhydian's side of the bed cold and empty.

Again.

Three nights in a row now, his mate had disappeared before dawn. No note, no explanation through the bond—just gone.

Suspicious didn't begin to cover it.

Kieran pulled on clothes and went hunting. His enhanced senses tracked Rhydian's scent through the castle corridors, down to the lower levels, and finally to—

The training hall?

He pushed open the door to find Rhydian sparring with Lyria. Both shirtless, both covered in sweat, moving with the lethal grace of predators who'd fought together for decades.

And Lyria was laughing. Actually laughing as she dodged one of Rhydian's strikes.

"You're getting slow, old man," she teased.

"Old?" Rhydian's grin was all fangs. "I'll show you old."

He moved faster than Kieran could track, had Lyria pinned against the wall in a heartbeat. Their faces inches apart, both breathing hard.

Something hot and possessive flared in Kieran's chest.

Mine, his moon fae instincts snarled.

"Am I interrupting something?" Kieran's voice came out colder than intended.

Both warriors sprang apart. Lyria looked amused. Rhydian looked guilty.

"Just training," Rhydian said quickly.

"Training. At dawn. Shirtless." Kieran crossed his arms. "How educational."

Lyria's grin widened. "Oh, this is precious. The moon fae is jealous."

"I'm not—"

"You absolutely are." She grabbed a towel, wiping sweat from her neck. "Those pretty eyes are practically glowing with possessive fury. It's adorable."

"Lyria," Rhydian warned.

"What? It's cute! Mr. 'I don't need anyone' getting territorial over his mate." She winked at Kieran. "Don't worry, moon child. I'm not interested in your hybrid. Werewolves are more my type. All that primal energy."

She sauntered out, leaving Kieran and Rhydian alone.

"I wasn't jealous," Kieran insisted.

"No?" Rhydian approached slowly, still shirtless, muscles gleaming with sweat. "Then why are your hands glowing?"

Kieran looked down. Sure enough, silver light was dancing across his fingers. Unconscious manifestation of emotion.

Damn it.

"I just—" He struggled for words. "You disappeared. Three mornings in a row. No explanation."

"So you thought I was—what? Cheating on you with my second-in-command?" Rhydian's tone was gentle, amused. "Kieran, the mating bond doesn't work that way. I'm literally incapable of wanting anyone else. Physically, magically, emotionally—you're it for me."

"I know that intellectually. But seeing you with her, both half-naked, laughing—" Kieran cut himself off. He sounded ridiculous.

"You felt threatened," Rhydian said, suddenly serious. He closed the distance between them. "Because you care. Because this bond isn't just magic anymore—it's real emotion."

Was it? Kieran had been so focused on resisting the bond, on maintaining his independence, that he hadn't stopped to examine what he actually felt.

But seeing Rhydian with Lyria, seeing him smile at someone else—yeah, that had hurt. Had triggered something primal and possessive that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with—

"I'm falling for you," Kieran admitted quietly. "Not because of the bond. Because of you. And that terrifies me."

Rhydian's mismatched eyes softened. "Good. Because I fell for you the moment you tried to stab me in that warehouse. Been terrified ever since."

"That's not romantic."

"It's honest." Rhydian cupped Kieran's face. "You came into my life as an enemy, tried to kill me multiple times, insulted everything I am—and somehow became the most important person in my world. If that's not romance, I don't know what is."

Despite himself, Kieran smiled. "You have a twisted definition of romance."

"I'm a hybrid monster ruling a kingdom of outcasts. Twisted is my baseline." Rhydian's thumb traced Kieran's lower lip. "But for you? I'd learn conventional romance. Buy you flowers. Write you poetry. Whatever you want."

"Please never write poetry."

"Thank the gods, because I'm terrible at it." Rhydian's grin was infectious. "But I could do the other traditional romance things. Dates. Gifts. Elaborate gestures."

"How about just—" Kieran leaned into him, "—being here when I wake up? That's all I want."

"Deal. No more dawn training sessions." Rhydian's arms wrapped around him. "Though you should know—I was only training early because I'm trying to get stronger. Strong enough to protect you when the next Sealed One attacks."

Oh. That was—actually really sweet.

"You're already strong enough," Kieran said.

"I'm never strong enough. Not when it comes to keeping you safe." Rhydian's voice dropped. "Watching that avatar attack you, feeling your pain through the bond—I wanted to tear the world apart. And I realized I need to be stronger. Fast enough that you're never alone facing danger."

"We're partners. We face danger together."

"I know. But I'm allowed to want to protect you." Rhydian pulled back slightly. "Same way you want to protect me. That's what mates do."

Through the bond, Kieran felt the truth of it. Felt Rhydian's bone-deep need to keep him safe, matched by his own fierce protectiveness.

They were both territorial, possessive disasters.

Perfect for each other.

"For the record," Kieran said, "if I ever see you shirtless and sweaty with Lyria again, I'm going to blast her with moonlight."

Rhydian laughed, rich and genuine. "Noted. I'll wear a shirt next time."

"Or just train with me instead."

"You want to spar?" Rhydian's eyes lit up with interest and something darker. "Because that could get very interesting very fast."

Kieran felt heat curl in his stomach. "Interesting how?"

"Sparring leads to touching. Touching leads to pinning. Pinning leads to—" Rhydian's voice turned rough, "—other activities."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both." Rhydian's fangs extended slightly. "You've been driving me insane for weeks. All that training, watching you glow and transform, seeing your power grow. Do you have any idea how attractive power is to a hybrid?"

Kieran's breath caught. "Show me."

The words were barely out before Rhydian moved.

One second Kieran was standing. The next, he was pressed against the training room wall, Rhydian's body covering his, those mismatched eyes blazing with want.

"You sure?" Rhydian's voice was strained. "Because once I start, I'm not stopping."

"Good," Kieran breathed. "Don't stop."

[Scene fades as things get heated - keeping it spicy but Webnovel-appropriate]

An hour later, they emerged from the training room looking thoroughly disheveled.

And ran straight into Dante.

The werewolf took one look at them—mussed hair, bruised lips, satisfied expressions—and burst out laughing.

"Oh, finally! I was wondering when you two would stop dancing around the sexual tension!" He called over his shoulder. "Lyria! You owe me twenty gold! They finally did it!"

Kieran felt his face flame. "We didn't—that's not—"

"Please. You both reek of pheromones and satisfaction." Dante's grin was wicked. "The entire castle is going to know within the hour. Supernatural senses, remember?"

Rhydian just shrugged, completely unbothered. "Let them know. He's my mate. Why would I hide that we're—"

"If you finish that sentence, I'm hitting you with moonlight," Kieran warned.

"Violent and repressed. You really know how to pick them, Boss." Dante limped away, still chuckling.

Kieran groaned. "This is humiliating."

"This is normal." Rhydian pulled him close, shameless in his affection. "Mated couples are expected to be—enthusiastic about each other. No one will judge."

"Everyone will tease."

"Probably. But—" Rhydian kissed his temple, "—I don't care. Let them tease. You're mine, I'm yours, and everyone can deal with it."

Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's absolute certainty. Felt how the hybrid king genuinely didn't care what anyone thought, as long as Kieran was happy.

It was oddly freeing.

"Fine," Kieran said. "Let them know. Let the whole kingdom know. I'm claiming the Beast King as mine."

Rhydian's smile was pure satisfaction. "There's my fierce mate. Took you long enough to accept it."

"I'm a slow learner."

"You're stubborn. There's a difference." Rhydian's hand found his. "Come on. We have an alliance meeting with Draven in an hour. Try to look professional."

"After what we just did? Impossible."

"Then we'll look unprofessional together."

They walked through Shadowkeep hand-in-hand, ignoring the knowing looks and poorly hidden smiles from every supernatural creature they passed.

Let them stare. Let them gossip.

Kieran had spent too long hiding what he wanted, denying what he felt. No more.

The moon fae and the Beast King were officially, undeniably together.

And the Sealed Ones could choke on it.

War Room - Later

Draven's hologram flickered into view, his crimson eyes taking in the scene. Rhydian and Kieran sitting close, hands intertwined on the table. Lyria smirking. Dante barely containing laughter.

"I see things have progressed," Draven observed drily.

"Jealousy is a hell of a motivator," Lyria supplied helpfully.

Kieran glared at her. She just grinned back.

"Can we focus on the war?" Rhydian said, though his hand didn't release Kieran's. "Valdris is planning something. We need strategy."

"Agreed. But first—" Draven's attention fixed on Kieran, "—I hear your training is accelerating. Three months to Apotheosis?"

"That's the plan," Kieran confirmed.

"Ambitious. Also likely to kill you." Draven's bluntness was refreshing after all the careful diplomacy. "I'm sending support. A fae diplomat who specializes in moon magic. She'll arrive next week to assist Silvara."

"She?" Rhydian's grip on Kieran's hand tightened slightly.

Oh gods. Was his mate jealous now?

"Ambassador Seraphine," Draven continued, oblivious. "Ancient moon fae, stunning even by fae standards, and brilliant at magical theory. She's the best chance Kieran has of surviving accelerated training."

"How stunning?" Rhydian asked, tone carefully neutral.

Draven blinked. "Does that matter?"

"No," Kieran said quickly, squeezing Rhydian's hand. "It doesn't matter. We appreciate the help."

"I'm sure you do," Lyria muttered, not quite under her breath.

Dante made a noise that might have been a suppressed laugh.

This meeting was rapidly becoming a disaster.

"Ambassador Seraphine arrives in seven days," Draven said, clearly deciding to ignore the undercurrents. "In the meantime, I'm reinforcing your northern border. My forces will patrol the perimeter, prevent any more surprise attacks."

"Thank you," Rhydian said, finally professional again. "What about intelligence on Valdris's location?"

"Working on it. Corruption magic is hard to track, but I have demons with specific talents in that area. Give me two weeks."

They discussed strategy for another hour—troop movements, supply lines, magical countermeasures. All very professional and war-focused.

But through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's continued territorial tension. Felt his mate's beast responding to the idea of another moon fae—a stunning moon fae—coming to work closely with Kieran.

It should have been annoying. Instead, Kieran found it endearing.

Rhydian, the ancient hybrid king, was jealous.

When the meeting ended and everyone filed out, Kieran pulled Rhydian back.

"You know the bond works both ways, right?" he said. "I can't want anyone else any more than you can."

"I know that intellectually," Rhydian said, echoing Kieran's words from earlier. "But the idea of some ancient, beautiful moon fae teaching you, touching you to demonstrate techniques—"

"Makes you want to murder her?" Kieran supplied.

"Little bit." Rhydian's rueful smile was adorable. "I'm not proud of it. But yes."

"Good." Kieran pulled him down for a kiss. "Stay jealous. It's hot."

Rhydian's laugh vibrated through both of them. "You're enjoying this."

"I am. Payback for earlier." Kieran grinned against his mouth. "Welcome to being irrationally possessive over your mate. It's annoying, isn't it?"

"Incredibly." Rhydian kissed him again, deeper this time. "But I suppose it's fair."

Through the bond, affection and desire and bone-deep certainty flowed between them.

They were disasters. Jealous, possessive, territorial disasters.

But they were disasters together.

And somehow, that made everything perfect.

More Chapters