The Prince's Fated Mate: M/M Alpha/Omega Paranormal Werewolf Romance (Norvargen Wolves Book 1) (7 page)

Will stared as he saw his father welcome the Redfang party, greeting them courteously.

“Thank you for your service,” said Prince Dashel, his voice heavily accented, but still elegant, poised, pleasantly lilting. He had a cool, reserved look to him, and he nodded his head ever-so-slightly in the direction of Will’s father.
 

Even though Pa was being as professional as usual, Will could swear he saw Pa cast rather wary eyes over the Second Son, as if thinking him a rival to his son.

Will went back down on the heels of his feet, feeling defeated.
 

As supportive as Pa was being, Will thought it pointless. What little bit of bit of encouragement he had gotten earlier from Kytes was now pummelled down back into nothing. It wasn’t even a competition at all: he would never look as good, act as well-mannered and poised, or be as important and significant as the Second Son. He was the son of an innkeeper who had never stepped foot outside of Hemslock, who sounded nowhere near as intelligence and graceful as Prince Dashel. He wouldn’t be surprised if, with all his countryside manners, he appeared rude and uncouth to the Alpha party. Worse of all, Prince Dashel was happily engaged to the Norvargen Prince, while Will was utterly invisible to said Prince. He hadn’t lost a competition; there wasn’t even any to begin with.

He couldn’t even muster up the heart to feel angry at Prince Dashel. He was jealous, completely and irrevocably jealous, but that was different from anger. Anger would require him to think that he deserved what Prince Dashel had, and Will knew he didn’t.

*

Feeling disheartened, Will slowly turned around and started making his way through the crowd, away from the Redfang Prince and back to the dining hall.
 

Kytes followed him without saying a word, as if detecting his need for silence. Along the way, right before they reached the corridor that passed into the dining hall, some of the guards came out, and they accompanied both Alpha Miles, Alpha Consort Isabel, and the First Son James.
 

Will watched quietly as his fated mate passed by to meet his betrothed, his heart sinking even lower.
 

The golden engagement ring on Prince James’s finger glinted harshly.
 

Will knew he definitely did not want to stay to watch this, but before disappearing into the corridor, he turned around against his better judgment to have a look. Prince James was leaning over to kiss Prince Dashel on the cheek, and the Redfang omega looked particularly pleased to be reunited again.

Will looked away. Together with Kytes, he went into the now empty corridor and headed back to their lunch table.
 

“Kytes,” Will said, sinking into his seat before his now-cold plate. He didn’t know how to continue, but he knew Kytes would know what he meant.
 

“Not yet, Will, it’s not time to give up yet,” said Kytes, firmly.

“Did you see the Redfang Prince?” asked Will flatly.

“Yes,” answered Kytes hesitantly.

“Then I think we can both agree that I don’t stand a chance against him.”

“That’s just your first impression, Will,” Kytes tried to argue. “I mean, sure, he looks good and he’s refined and all that, but he’s a prince! Of course he gives a good first impression. Doesn’t mean that you don’t have a chance, though.”

“I’m a small town boy with very little prospects and the delusion that my fated mate is the Prince of the Norvargen wolves,” Will muttered in response, stabbing a fillet of chicken on his plate with his fork. He munched on it miserably.
 

“Don’t lose hope yet, Will,” said Pa, suddenly appearing by his side. Byron came too, and they both pulled up chairs, joining Will and Kytes at their table. Pa had a grave and determined look on his face, while Byron had his usual jovial smile.

“What your pa says,” Byron added. “Things will work out soon enough. He told me about your problem, by the way. Now, now, don’t look so flustered — I’m practically family, aren’t I? Least I deserve is to know what’s plaguing you. Drank enough wagsroot this morning?”

Will nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Byron nodded. “I’ll have them send another bowl up to your room tonight just in case.”

“What are you two doing here?”

“I already finished welcoming Prince Dashel. He’s been escorted to his room. All the Redfangs are living in the eastern wing,” answered Pa. “I’m sorry I haven’t found out a solution yet, son,” he said, rubbing his jaw tiredly. “No one around here seems to have a clue what I’m talking about, and I haven’t had much time to dig further.”

“Don’t worry,” Will assured, even though he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed. Would he ever make James realise that they were fated mates?

Byron looked back and forth between father and son. “Will, are you a hundred percent sure he’s the one?”

“Don’t question my son’s honesty, Byron,” Pa said sternly. “He knows what he’s talking about, and I trust him.”

Byron calmly held his hands up in submission. “Not intending to be rude, Connor, you know that. I just want to make sure. It’s dangerous business getting messed up in an engagement between two different packs, but if he’s your fated mate, well, we ought to try everything we can, don’t we? Still, we’re running out of time…”

“Wedding’s not for a few months more,” Kytes pointed out to his father. “All we’re doing is celebrating the engagement next week with a feast, that’s not really a big deal.”

“True, true, but they’ll be leaving after next week. And that doesn’t give us enough time for what I’m thinking.”

“What are you thinking?” asked Pa, curiously.

“Well, Will, something’s clearly getting crossed and muddled here if you know he’s your fated mate and he doesn’t. That just isn’t natural. So if nature isn’t taking over … well, what do you think about taking the old-fashioned route?”

Will put down his fork, listening curiously. “What do you mean by old-fashioned route?”

“Romance him, Will! The way we unlucky wolves without fated mates have to. Talk to him, charm him, win his heart over, make him realise he can’t live a day without you.”

Will blushed. “Do all that in a week? While he’s constantly surrounded by everyone else, and when his fiancé has just arrived?”

Byron sucked in a cheek. “Well, I didn’t say it was a good plan.”

But much to everyone’s surprise, Pa said, “It might not be a good plan, but it might be the only thing you can do.”

“Wouldn’t I seem,” Will started, uncertainly, shifting in his seat, “rather, well, horrible? Trying to make a man already engaged fall in love with me? If I succeed, I don’t think the Redfang pack would take kindly to their Second Son being thrown aside. If I don’t succeed, well … I don’t want to think about what might happen. And I don’t know how I can sneak around under Alpha Miles’s and Prince Dashel’s noses to spend time with Prince James.”

“You have a point,” said Kytes, sighing in shared frustration. “This is impossible to work unless he himself opens his eyes and sees you as his fated mate.”

“William, your mother and I didn’t raise you to give up so easily,” said Pa sternly, taking Will aback.

“But Pa, how can I get close to him? I’ve only managed to talk a little with him this morning, and that’s as much as I’ve been able to all day long. He’s busy, he’s constantly surrounded by his people and it’ll probably be worse from now on with the Redfang wolves here, and he has no time or reason to speak to me.”

“I know. I know what Byron is suggesting isn’t going to be easy,” Pa agreed with a frown. “But we’ll make it work.”

*

It was late afternoon when Pa suddenly tugged Will aside, pushing a pair of garden shears into his hands. “Will, James is outside in the party field now, under the white pavilion. Go out there and trim the bushes around it.”

Will stared at him, bewildered. “Trim the bushes?”

“You heard me,” Pa hissed, looking around furtively to make sure they weren’t being heard. “The First Son wanted to rest alone outside, so there’s no one around. Seize the moment, boy, go there under the pretence of tidying the bushes a little and make some light conversation with him. You said yourself that you don’t have much chance to talk to him. Well, here’s one, so use it.”

Before Will could say anything in protest, particularly that if James had requested to be alone, it would probably be unwise to disturb him, Pa pushed him through the reception and out the glass doors to the party field.
 

The pair of cutting shears shook in his hands as he took step after step towards the white pavilion. Not too far away from it were a pair of the Prince’s guards, and they gave Will a quick glance over before recognising him and nodding at him.
 

Pa, why do you do this to me?
Will was beginning to think he’d prefer it if his father weren’t so supportive, if that meant he wouldn’t be pushed into such embarrassing situations.
 

He reached the pavilion timidly, almost on the verge of spinning around and running away. He spotted Prince James lying down on the built-in bench, a white handkerchief covering his eyes as a makeshift blindfold. His coat was unbuttoned, one side dangling off the side and grazing the floor where his shoes were. Will wondered if he would get cold — the afternoon had gotten rather chilly, and a breeze was coming through.
 

I should go back
, he thought.
He’s sleeping anyway, so there’s no point hanging around and pretending I’m gardening.

“Hello there.”

Will nearly shrieked and dropped his shears as Prince James spoke to him. The Prince had dragged his handkerchief off one eye to peep at him.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping.”

“Just lying down,” said the prince affably.

“I-I’ll leave you alone.”

“No need. You came here to trim the bushes, I suppose?” He nodded his sharp chin towards the shears in Will’s hands.

Will stared at it and gulped. “Yes, I did.”

“Carry on, please. Don’t let me interfere with your work.”

Will flushed red hot as he turned around and started mindlessly snipping away at the bushes that were planted in a tight ring around the perimeter of the pavilion. He had never done this before; gardening was one of the few things that his father didn’t require him to do at the inn. He decided to cut as little was possible, snipping only stray leaves, because he was afraid that he might do an awful job of it and have the actual gardeners at the inn cursing him later.
 

He bit his bottom lip as he brought the ends of the shears handles together, lopping off a twig. He looked up, and was startled. James, handkerchief still blocking half his face, was staring at him.
 

“I’ve been seeing you around often lately,” said the prince, chuckling softly. “Yesterday when you fainted, and then this morning for breakfast, and now here.”

Will stammered for a second, and brought his head back down, not wanting the Prince to see him blushing furiously. “I…my Pa makes me help out wherever I can.”
 

I’m not really lying, even though this is my first time gardening…
 

“I see. So you’ve been helping around the inn your whole life?”

“For as long as I can remember,” he replied to the bushes, not daring to look up.
 

Is this a conversation? Are we actually having a conversation? I think I need to say thank you to Pa later.

“And you’ll take over the inn when you’re older?”

“Well, that’s the plan,” said Will, shyly. He peeped up again, and James was still looking at him. He turned several shades redder and bobbed his head back down, shears nervously snapping close.

“It’s a very nice inn,” said the prince politely. “I can see your family holds their service up to a high standard.”

“I’ll pass your praise on to my father,” said Will, happily. Pa would beam at that compliment. The inn was his life’s work and perhaps his greatest accomplishment, and hearing praise from the First Son himself would be an honour. “Are you cold? Why don’t you rest inside in your room? It’s getting chillier.”

“I like it outside,” answered Prince James, a little evasively.
 

Will couldn’t help but feel that, despite how polite the First Son was being, there was a massive wall between them, one that Prince James was not letting him hurdle over. He picked up his gaze once more, looking at the alpha-male, who was now sitting upright, handkerchief tucked back into his breast pocket. The prince looked as he always did, but now Will thought that behind those calm, placid ice-blue eyes was an unspoken tiredness.

Well, we’re not engaged, we’re not lovers — we’re not even friends. Why should he feel comfortable with me?
Will thought sadly. The wagsroot was helping him keep control of his impulses, but his brain could not switch off and forget that James was his fated mate. It hurt to be around him and know that James did not feel the same things as he did. It was worse than mere unrequited love. It was knowing that the perfect person for him was right in front of him, but there was an insurmountable wall for him climb over first.

“You must be happy that the Redfang Prince Dashel has arrived,” said Will carefully.

James nodded briskly, eyes looking over at the woods in the distance. “It’s good he arrived safely. If you’ll pardon me, I’d like to rest a little while more before heading back.”

“Oh, oh, sure,” said Will, flustered once more.
I’ve irritated him, haven’t I?
 

James laid back down, hands tucked behind his head, eyes shut. Will kept his head down, frowning as he realised that he had been a bit overzealous with trimming during the conversation, and there was a sudden, obvious dent in the bushes thanks to his carelessness.

I should go back
, he thought.
There’s nothing for me to do here anymore.

He cleared his throat, quietly announced his departure to the prince, and turned on his heels.