Page 4 of Wicked

There are a lot of things I hope He’ll forgive.

Anne touches down. She takes two slow steps, trying to hide the limp that’s become more apparent over time.

I know she wants me to forget that she’s seventy years old, but there are reasons why she recruited me twelve years ago. Unless she’s flying, her mobility is limited. I’m her legs—her method of covering ground when her dragon body is too big. She can’t go on missions by herself anymore.

She lets out a low rumble. That’s her signal for me to be alert. A slender man in a white suit stands near the prison entrance. He walks with the confidence of a model on a runway, and I can understand why. The angles of his face are so striking, I can’t look away. His auburn hair is all soft curls, and his elegant neck is long and shows off his pearl choker. He exudes an effortless androgenous beauty that doesn’t suggest a lack of gender but an abundance of gender—more gender than should be possible coming from one person. I was warned he’d have a thrall, but the allure of Candlewick is much more than the inexplicable attraction of a thrall.

I can easily explain my attraction to him. In detail.

He locks eyes with mine, and the breath leaves my lungs. For a moment, I wish I was Timber with his wide shoulders and big body, or anyone Candlewick would want. It’s such a silly notion. I’m not the kind of alpha omegas are attracted to, and I’ve made my peace with that. Sometimes I do get a little jealous of the tenderness between Timber and his mate, Andrew, but jealousy, just like materialism, is a sin. I do my best to push past it and be happy for my friend.

That’s what I need to do now: push past my attraction to Candlewick and get him to H. After tonight, I’ll probably never see him again.

I climb down from Anne’s back. “I’m Manny. Buddy sent me to get you.”

He stares at me incredulously for a moment, then he laughs, a full-bodied, loud laugh filled with a wild joy that makes him seem more alive than anyone I’ve ever met. “Buddy? He’s alive? And you’re… well, you’re perfect. You just rode on a dragon to rescue me, huh? Was a white horse not enough for you?”

Anne lets out a huff at that. I’m not sure if she’s amused or annoyed at being compared to a horse. In this moment, I don’t care. Candlewick called me perfect. He meant perfect as his rescuer, of course. I know that. He’s just so… everything.

I’ve never been affected like this by a thrall before.

Candlewick steps closer to me—close enough that our bodies are mere inches apart. “Where the hell have you been? I’m twenty-seven years old, sir. You’re late.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Late?”

He bites his lip, joy still radiating off him. “Yes. I stopped hoping I had a fated mate. And here you are.”

His fated mate. But I couldn’t be. We couldn’t be.

Candlewick devours me with his eyes. The heady thrill of seeing him look at me like that is overwhelming. When his gaze falls on my lips, I almost lean forward and kiss him. It would be easy. It feels right. I’ve wanted an omega of my own since I was a young teenager.

But I can’t have a mate. Not anymore. The breeding pits ripped away my ability to bond to an omega.

“What’s wrong?” Candlewick asks.

“I’m muzzled,” I say.

The blood drains from his face. “You mean…”

“I can’t bond to you.”

He stands there motionless for several seconds. Shame twists in my stomach as I realize how disappointing this must be for him. He’s waited twenty-seven years for his fated mate to show up, and he got stuck with me: a small alpha who can’t offer him a bond.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

He takes in a deep breath. “It’s okay. At least we found each other, right? That’s the important thing. We’ll figure out a way to make it work.” He reaches out his hand to me, and God help me, I take it. Touching him is like taking hold of a live wire. Pleasure shoots through my whole body as I thread my fingers through his.

Candlewick smiles. “See? We can still enjoy each other.” He leans in and brushes his nose against mine. It’s such a tender gesture, it makes my heart skip a beat. Could I really have this with an omega? I had given up all hope of love. And yet, here Candlewick is, accepting what little I can offer him and saying he wants to be with me.

I slide my hand along his jaw and press my forehead to his. Candlewick’s scent is everywhere, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of it. He is the key to my lock, my missing puzzle piece. A sense of rightness fills my heart.

But just as I’m about to brush my lips against his, I remember something that makes my stomach drop.

“Our connection will only be temporary without a bond. Your thrall won’t last.”

Such is the way with red wolf shifters. Omega red wolves release pheromones that make any alpha in the vicinity believe they’ve found their fated mate. But the thrall only lasts for six months to a year unless the connection is cemented with a bond. The same is true between fated mates. Our god gives us a year to commit to each other, then takes our magical connection away.

By next winter, my attraction to Candlewick will be gone.

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