VEGAS

II: Wolf

"Did you stand too close to the fire?"

TW: Blood and violence

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The sunlight streams through the tall windows of the castle halls and spills across the perfectly polished blue-ish grey stone walls of the entire hallway. In the beam of the light, dust motes swirled in a frenzied dance along the huge burgundy wine-colored curtains.

Pete could smell the rain on parched earth seeping through the windows along with the cool air whistling in sweet petrichor. The fragrance of monsoon as if he's waking up from a long deep summer slumber.

Pete strode into the long hallway, marbled floor reflecting the grotesque beauty of the palace's ceiling. He makes a turn to his right and walks furthermore until he has reached a huge door leading to the throne. He knocked on the perfectly chiselled wooden surface thrice before pushing its weight open, stepping in and was met by a tall figure standing before him. The light from the open huge frames just across the throne turned his dark brown hair a bit lighter. He's wearing a well-embellished tunic with gold-work thread glistening under the faintest light of the room.

Pete bowed, greeting his King immediately smelling a strong, heavy, heady whiff of tropical forest scent, local and contained; it sits on his shoulder and seeps into his senses.

"Your Royal Highness." Pete greeted before meeting Kinn's eyes – the soon to be Alpha King of the Kingdom of Fontos, unbound and crowned with silver and gold, looking majestic as he stood in front of him.

"I told you a hundred times not to call me that." Kinn smiled dismissively at Pete.

"But you are the Royal Highness." Pete bowed once again.

"And your brother."

"Adoptive brother." Pete corrected immediately before stepping inside the huge room. "Tonight's the celebration of the whole Empire for you, for formally becoming our King." Pete says looking out of the huge window across him.

"Your brothers from the Kingdom of Faros and Oryn will be there to congratulate you." He turned his head to Kinn and glanced at him, the latter looking as if he's in a deep trail of thoughts while blankly staring at the empty throne of his father.

"You'll do great." Pete reassured him, making Kinn turn his head to his direction.

"I have to." Kinn gave him a weak smile.

"I'll ask the valets to prepare your clothes."

"That's not your job." Kinn said, stopping Pete by the arm. "You have to be there with me. With our brothers."

That made Pete smile lightly, Kinn's scent invading his nose as he stood close to him. He pressed his hand on Kinn's, holding it for a little longer, feeling its warmth against his palms before leaving a slight tap and letting it go.

"I will be there. I am the King's Consul after all." Pete knows Kinn didn't mean it that way. Kinn didn't want him to be there as his Consul nor he didn't want him to be there wearing a soldier's armour. He wanted Pete to be there as his brother beside him, or maybe even more than that.

And Pete knows that. He knows it too well, yet he keeps trying to ignore whatever Kinn is doing for him. Kinn's little actions will always stay unnoticed by Pete or that's how he wants it to be; every brief glance, the subtle touches, and the way his coffee-brown eyes soften whenever he looks at him. He sees every small details ever since the day the late King of Fontos treated him as one of his sons, yet Pete decided to pay no attention to it and to his surprise, it took him this long; and he swore to himself to keep on doing it for the rest of his life with the fear of tarnishing his spoken promises to the late King.