Page 86 of Heir

His eyes, although feral, softened as I got closer. He strained against his restraints. “Not right now,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But—” He stopped and shook his head. “No.”

“What were you going to say?”

He shook his head again, his nostrils still flaring wildly. “Go. I know you don’t want me. So go.”

I blinked a few times, studying his face and the warring emotions in his eyes. The sincerity behind his last statement combined with that animalistic desire to mate with me. To claim me.

Crap! I’d forgot to ask Calliope if the first time Drak and I had sex it would mean we mated and bonded. If we did it on my period, would that expedite things? I had so many questions and she went and ended the call so abruptly that I didn’t have time to ask them all. Now I wasn’t even sure if she’d take my call if I tried again.

“We should go,” Zandren said from the front door.

Nodding, I joined him and we left, although I felt kind of shitty about abandoning Drak when he was clearly in a lot of pain, even if he refused to admit it.

Zandren and I made it to Fiddleman’s in decent time, and the bell chimed sweetly when we opened the door. There were a few people in there, perusing the aisles with baskets full of various herbs and other paranormal paraphernalia, but when Mr. Fiddleman saw us, his eyes lit up. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was happy to see us, or worried about what more terrible news we had to deliver in person.

I waited until he was finished with the customer at his counter before stepping forward. “Your Majesty,” he said, with a small head bow.

I shook my head. “Omaera, please, Mr. Fiddleman.”

He nodded. “I haven’t been back to Delia’s yet. I planned to go this evening after work though. Yesterday took a lot out of me. My apologies.”

“No need to apologize. Please. It took a lot out of everyone.”

“How can I help you?” he asked.

I glanced at Zandren before meeting Mr. Fiddleman’s piercing blue gaze. “We need to sedate Drak.”

The older man nodded. “Okay. May I ask why?”

“She’s bleeding,” Zandren said. “And he looks wilder than I do when I shift.”

Understanding dawned in the spellcaster’s eyes, and he nodded. “Ah, I see.”

“And humans bleed like this every month, unlike bears and vampires who are fortunate enough to only bleed every few years.” I rolled my eyes. “Immortal and they only get PMS and cramping every couple of years. Jesus, how come I didn’t get that part passed down from my father?”

“I can compound a pill that will help reduce his drive. But it only lasts for six to eight hours, then will need to be administered again. It will sedate him somewhat, but not completely. Is he locked up right now?”

“Maxar has him restrained,” Zandren said. “But the vampire’s strength is out of this world at the moment.”

The mage’s head bobbed. “Yes, it would be.”

“But you can help us help Drak?” I asked.

“Yes. Yes, of course. Just give me a moment and I’ll put together the spell and convert it into a compounded capsule. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

His smile was small, but kind before he turned around and began pulling various things in jars off his wall of shelves.

Zandren’s large hand gripped my elbow gently, and he tugged me away from the counter so we could whisper in the corner without any other patrons hearing. “You need to keep your hybrid status quiet,” he said, his voice low. “In fact, I think we need to keep you being the Queen quiet all together.”

I narrowed my gaze at him.

His expression softened. “It’s for your own safety. I don’t care that you’re half human. You could be half demon, half hyena, and I’d still be madly in love with you and want to mate with you and have weird looking cubs with you.”

I was unable to hide my snort of a laugh.

The corner of his mouth jerked upward just a touch. “But others might not think that way. Others like Raewyn. There is a lot of hatred toward humans in the Realm. A lot. Over the centuries—hell, over the millennia—various kings have tried to cull the human race. But there have always been enough people with common sense who stop them. It hasn’t changed though. There are those who think the human race is weak, unevolved, and should have expired long ago. And the idea of having one of them as our Queen will sit poorly with many.” His soft brown gaze shifted around the shop, seeing easily over the shelves that made up the aisles to watch the other customers. I couldn’t see the customers, but Zandren’s expression was wary and his nose sniffed the air, picking up everyone’s scents.

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