The Knights Of Laegovhar

Burning The Mid-Knight Oil

Mikail's problems started at a very young age.

The man never told anyone that he was, in fact, the middle child of the family, his twin brother having been born first, cold and grey with lips like ice. The king and queen hadn't even had the chance to mourn the loss before Mikail made his presence known, the babe being born faster than they could process that there were two in the womb of the queen.

The couple didn't know how to feel with the mass spectrum of emotions that plagued them; the pair mourning a loss, yet celebrating a birth. Feeling it better that the kingdom remain ignorant of the death of their first-born, the pair buried their baby in a secret spot in the garden that no-one had permission to enter. Then they declared Mikail their only son, and introduced him to the world as their rightful heir.

A year later, Cayde came into the world, pink, screaming, and covered in blood from where his already protruding horns had cut his mother. The birth of a king, his father had exclaimed before demanding the healer to see to his wife. Mikail hated the boy with his horns, his powerful wings, sharp fangs, and thick tail, for Mikail possessed none of those things, the things that made a king in their generations of beast blood. All the strength had been squandered on the boy that couldn't even take his first breath, and Mikail remained beyond jealous.

Not jealous in the way he wanted the qualities his brothers possessed. No, Mikail remained jealous that he was the one who had to live his miserable existence, jealous that he couldn't have been the one that died that day. For years, the queen taught Mikail that he was a king, and had to take the throne, take a wife, and make an heir. But Mikail had other plans, plans that involved running away with the stable boy, or the kitchen boy, or even the milkman if he was ever given the chance.

No, Mikail didn't want a simpering little wife to pander to his needs as a ruler of the realm. Mikail wanted nothing more than a big, muscular man to pick him up and carry him away from the tormented misery in which he found himself. Not that he ever told anyone. Mikail appeared to be the epitome of an heir, ready for the throne on the outside. But, once his door had locked at night, he would sneak out of the window or down the servants' quarters and meet the stable boy in the fields, or the butler's apprentice in the alcove near the kitchens.

Mikail would love them, tease them, suck them and fuck them, but he knew he could never bite. Biting was for a mate, biting was for forever, biting was for when the beast inside had found his one, his true soulmate. Mikail loved every boy, and as he grew, he loved every man in every way the two could think of, but none of them had roused his beast enough to bite.

And Mikail found happiness in that, in a way. His father had already partnered him with several young women that Mikail had slept with in an attempt to stir the beast inside, but not one of them had even come close. For the longest time, the king feared his son to not even be capable of connecting with his beast, but Mikail knew it to be only a matter of time.

His brother Cayde had been obsessed with being a knight, which, as a prince, wasn't a job he could do. But their father agreed the training would be a good source of discipline for the brothers, thereby urging them to join the knights and go on quests, but never too far from home, and never anything too dangerous, and never together.

But the night the groups set off on their quests happened to be the night Mikail found himself desperate to follow one particular path, resulting in him arriving at the inn at the same time as Gregor. Unable to meet the man's eyes, Mikail looked behind him to see Cayde and Eliana storming up the path. The duo in yet another argument.

"Best to leave them," Gregor admitted as he held the door open for the prince. "They'll work it out in the end."

"Work what out?" Mikail asked as the duo entered.