Chapter 6 Six
Rhea's POV
The doppelganger sat on the side of my bed, staring at me with those queer silver eyes. Lycan Theron. Just the name was enough to send a shiver down my spine.
"The mate bond," I echoed, my voice more even than I thought it should be. "You felt it too?"
He nodded once. "The moment our hands touched."
I inched my knees closer to my chest, sliding away from you. The wolf inside me was restless, eager to get closer to him so that her scent would fill my lungs, but I held it down. I’d trusted one man before, and Cassian had knocked me over the head and hauled me back to my father like an unwilling child.
"How did you find me?" Then I whispered, not really expecting an answer yet until the whole mate bond thing had been processed.
Theron rested his back, and gave me room. I realized that he was not moving casually, but holding himself with circumspection, as though he were being deliberately careful not to scare me. It was odd, given the palpable power I’d sensed exuding from him at the wedding.
"A witch," he said simply. “I met her while drunk around a month ago. She told me of a man beyond, my true mate who needed my aid.”
“A witch jumped out the bag and told you about me?” I was unable to conceal the skepticism in my voice.
He smiled just a little with his lips. "Nothing Nyra Vale does is random. She's a seer. If she says something, it’s because the universe needed her to.”
I stared him in the face, searching for deception. There was nothing guarded about his face, not really. But there was something in his eyes, a shadow that said he wasn’t giving everything.
"What do you want from me?" I asked bluntly.
The question appeared to have caught him by surprise. He fell silence for a moment, his silver eyes analyzing my own. "What do you mean?"
“Everybody wants something,” I said, with a harder edge to my voice. “My father sought a political alliance. The twins sought power through marriage. Cassian wanted..." I stopped, his betrayal was still very new and sore. "What do you want, cretin Lycan?"
He rose slowly and went to the window. The light of morning was in his silver hair and it shone like moonalight. He was tall, even taller than I’d noticed at the wedding. He would have to be at least six foot seven, lean but strong and able to lift at least a few hundred pounds if not more while speaking of centuries of enduring.
“I need you to be safe,” he finally said, gazing out the window. “I want you without men who would pawn you.”
“Very noble of you,” I replied sourly. “And what do you get out of this deal?”
He looked around at me again, and I saw something for the first time in his expression. Loneliness. Ancient and bone deep.
"A mate," he said quietly. “After hundreds of years, I finally get a mate.”
There was sincerity in his voice and I felt my chest go tight. My wolf purred at his encouragement. But I made myself stay rational. I had long ago learned that men did not always say what they meant.
"I need time," I said. "Time to think. Time to understand what's happening."
"Of course." He walked toward the door, then stopped. "But Rhea, understand this. War is coming. Your father won't stand for this insult and neither will the twins. They’re safer here than anywhere else.”
After he was gone, I sat on the bed for a long while, absorbing everything. The mate bond buzzed softly in my chest, a constant reminder of what we were to each other. I had evaded one forced marriage only to find myself cupped in the arms of another man asserting his right to me.
But this felt different. Theron had offered me a choice at the wedding. He was giving me space now. Yet I still had a sense there was something important which Demaratus was withholding.
An hour passed, during which I bathed and put on some of the plain garments that had remained in the wardrobe, knocking at my door.
"Come in," I called.
Theron came in behind them, a shade less buttoned-down than he had been. He was a different person, too: He was in dark pants and a loose-fitting white shirt that for some reason did not make him appear as intimidating.
“You want to see the area?” he asked. “It might free you up from feeling so trapped.”
I actually wanted to say no on principle, but curiosity got the better of me. "Fine."
Silent we strolled through the mansion. The design was nothing like my father’s modernist fortress. Everything here was made centuries ago, of stone and iron worn by the passage of time. The walls were thick, the windows small. It was an architecture of defense, survival.
It wasn't until we moved through the hallways that I realized Theron's packmates were all stopping to gape. Some took off their hats in honor. Others murmured discreetly behind their hands, bright eyes gazing after me with unabashed curiosity. Some seemed wary, even hostile.
“They don’t believe in me,” I whispered.
“They haven’t met you yet,” Theron corrected. "Give them time."
We went down a wide stone stairway to the big hall. Portraits adorned the walls, all of them depicting silver haired men and women with those same piercing eyes. Theron's ancestors, I assumed.
"How old is this place?" I asked.
The founder’s building was thousand of years old, he said, his hand caressing the stone wall with something like fondness; the ceiling had been replaced first by wood and later by concrete. It's been burned down and rebuilt three times. But it always stands."
There was a hint of pride in his voice and I became curious. "And you? How have you lived so long?”
He glanced at me sideways. “Just long enough to have forgotten most of it.”
We stepped out into the blinding sunlight, and I had to cover my eyes. We were standing on the edge of a huge training range. Pairs of warriors dueled, hitting hard and fast. Meat slapped against meat and grunting commands filled the air.
These weren't regular werewolves. They came spoiled for speed and power— my father’s best warriors seemed like boys playing at war.
“All that I had heard of you was no more than your due,” I muttered.
Theron's expression darkened. “I didn’t get that reputation from being merciful.”
We sat silently for a few minutes as they watched. I studied the warriors, and I observed their patterns, their vulnerabilities. One favored his left side. Another one signaled his with the movement of his shoulders. I'd watched Cassian train for years, learning what I was never allowed to utilize.
“You can see all the files below. You are you analyzing them,” Theron responded sounding surprised.
"Old habit."
"Did your father train you?"
I laughed bitterly. “My father locked me away in a tower to let no one near me. I learned everything I know from watching.”
Something shifted in Theron's expression. Understanding, perhaps. Or pity. I didn't want either.
“I need to go, “I blurted out quickly.
He nodded, but made no move to accompany me. "You know the way?"
"I'll figure it out."
I returned to my room, walking my nerves away. The mate bond was growing stronger, a tug in me like a pulling thread. My wolf howled to return to him, surrendering herself what the moon goddess clearly intended. But I was not going to be anyone’s property ever again.
By night, I had reached a decision. I would hang out here, at least until I figured out what to do next. But I would do so, on my terms.
I discovered Theron in a study, crouched over maps and papers. He glanced up when I entered, surprise dancing upon his face.
"We need to have a discussion," I stated firmly.
He set down his quill. "Alright."
“I will remain,” I said, studying his face. "But I have conditions."
His jaw tightened slightly. "Go on."
“I will not be used as a breeding tool or political pawn,” I responded, my voice steady despite my racing heart. “All my life I’ve been used by men who don’t love me. I won't do it again."
Theron rose to his full height slowly, now seeming very tall in the small study. "What exactly are you proposing?"
"Boundaries," I said. We both live in the front part of the mansion. The left wing is yours. The right wing is mine. No encroaching without permission."
There was a kind of densifying presence in the air between us. I felt the mate bond stretching tight, witnessed the war waging in his silvers behinds his eyes. I half expected him to laugh in my face, tell me that he was a Lycan, an ancient alpha and I wasn’t the boss of him.
Instead he looked at me a very long, tense time. Then he moved.
He was at my side in three steps, so quickly I hadn't been able to follow. Before I could even think of what to do, his hands were on both sides of my head and I clamped me against the wall. His body enclosed mine, so near that I felt the warmth of his skin emanating from him.
The pounding of my heart rattled my rib cage. This close I could see the flecks of gold in his silver eyes, could smell cedar wood and something wild and masculine that made my wolf want to howl with pleasure.
“You already consented to this deal when you slipped your hand to mine at my friend’s wedding,” he muttered, his voice a deep growl I felt in my bones. “My pack is already looking for a heir. Soon."
He was inches from my nose. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The mate bond sung between us, urging me to bridge the gap, submit.
But I refused.
“Get off of me,” I said in a whisper, my voice shaking.
For a moment, neither one of us did. Theron then pushed off the wall, freeing me up. He didn’t glance behind him as he headed for the door.
“Dinner will be at an hour,” he said coldly. "I expect you there."
Then he was gone and I was left gasping and angry, my pulse racing for reasons that I didn't have time to analyse.