Loving a Fantasy - Romantic Shorts

The King's Mate - I

The air outside of the office building I'd just come from wasn't as fresh as that surrounding the royal pack lands, but it was certainly better than the filtered yet somehow still chemical-filled office air. As I stepped through the automatic doors to enter into the sunlight, I breathed out heavily and rolled my neck. It had been a long day, full of meetings with a set of the pack's bankers and advisors, but it was now over and I could relax.

"That bad, Your Highness?" Dimitri, the Royal Gamma asked. I grimaced and shook my head.

"Only in the way that I despise long meetings," I stated.

This particular bank handled the retirement funds for the pack. Long ago, I'd created a corporation for the benefit of my wolves. While each individual member of the pack had their own finances to manage, service to the pack meant a member was treated as an employee. With that status came a salary or wage, depending on the service, and a benefits package.

While the royal coffers still existed, they were made up of funds that were specifically earned by the royal family. All other funds, if not generated by royal property, were owned by the corporation, which paid its employees first. Remaining funds were then divided up into the various divisions for things such as pack aid, internal upkeep, defense training and the like. If the corporation had a good enough year, dividends were then issued to every member. Although not a perfect system, it had been going strong for over a hundred years.

"Well, our flight out of town doesn't leave until the morning," Dimitri noted. "Would you like to check out the local fare?" he asked.

I was about to decline when I sensed it. Frowning, I raised my hand to Dimitri, who'd felt the change in my focus. Licking my lips, I checked for humans in the vicinity and, seeing none, sniffed the air more deeply.

My eyes widened as realization hit me.

"Mate," I whispered, almost disbelievingly.

I was just over five hundred years old. I'd lived through half a millennium without the other piece of my soul. I'd given up the idea of ever finding the one meant for me.

"Your Highness?" Dimitri asked, his expression shocked.

I'd heard the rumors. I'd been named the Cursed King. Whereas most wolves met their mate within the first thirty years of life, I'd gone centuries. I'd experienced the seven stages of grief multiple times as I'd tried to come to terms with the reality of my situation. And, with a single scent, it appeared that all that had come to an end.

Without answering Dimitri, I scented the air again. It was faint, but I knew it. It did not smell like anything that I could describe. Rather, it was the uniqueness that was the giveaway that I was right. In five hundred years, I had never smelled anything quite so perfect.

Turning toward the direction from which it came, I started to jog. That jog turned to a run in just a few yards.  Dimitri kept pace with me and in the near distance, I heard the sounds of the royal guard falling in. No doubt Dimitri had notified them through the mindlink of what was happening.

Across the street and through another building's lobby I went, my senses alert. My mate had been in the new office, but wasn't there any longer. When I made it out of the other doors, I found myself facing a parking lot. In that lot stood a woman with chestnut hair which was up into a messy bun on top of her head.

"There," I said lowly to Dimitri, nearly growling the word. He nodded and then turned. The royal guard would spread out, giving me and my Queen time, but they knew their duty. The protective detail now had two to focus on.

It took everything within me to slow to a walk as I got near to the woman. My wolf, Dharak, was clawing at me to move faster, to mark her, to take her up in our arms and never let go. He had gone too long without and was insistent that we not delay another moment. But, as I reminded him, she was human.

"Achoo," I heard as I came within a few feet. It was then that I looked closer.

My Queen was ill. Her body, though perfect in every respect, was held up with obvious effort. Her pert nose was red on its end and her complexion appeared paler than I would have thought likely. When she reached into her pocket to grab a tissue, I noted that she leaned against the car beside her slightly.

"Bless you," I said, catching her attention. She looked up and I was met with startlingly dark eyes. Though she was human, they had the appearance of what mine looked like when Dharak was in control.

"Tank youb," she said, her stuffed nose affecting her speech. I looked around, curious as to why she would be here, and then just asked.

"Do you need help?" I questioned. She shook her head as she came off of the car beside us.

"Nobe," she responded. "I wahb just drobbing things off at work and camb out to a flat tire," she explained, gesturing to the tire near my feet. She then pointed to a sign nearer to the street.

"I'mb waiting for the bus," she continued. "Probably best, since the colb medicine is kicking in," she finished, half under her breath. I nodded and licked my lips, glancing at the sign and then her. There was no reason for her to do what I wanted – it wasn't considered safe in the human world – but I was going to try anyway.

"I can give you a ride home," I offered.

She looked ready to say no, but then her eyes started to droop a little and she swayed. Unable to stop the reaction, I reached out to steady her. Her scent was filling my nostrils and the only thing that would have been better is if she weren't covered in nearly head-to-toe clothing to fight off the chill in the air. At least then, I would be able to feel the sparks that I'd heard about for centuries.

"Please," I said softly. "You're dead on your feet," I noted.

Conflict warred in her eyes. While human, the draw between us was strong. She'd be feeling comfortable around me, even if she couldn't explain it rationally if one of her kind asked her.

"I don't knowb," she replied hesitantly.

"You're safe with me," I vowed.

"What's your nameb?" she asked and I smiled.

"Gabriel Dharak Smith," I responded, giving her my name and my wolf's, as well as our chosen surname. Our real surname was only used within the royal pack boundaries.

"I'mb Therese Richards," she said, her own smile peeking out. I reached out a hand, having dropped the other when it seemed likely that continuing to steady her could hurt my chances. She grimaced slightly.

"Don't want to get you sick," she said, but I shook my head.

"I'll take my chances, Therese," I countered.

She then reached out and clasped my still offered hand. While she was bundled up for the weather, she didn't have gloves on.  So, for the first time in five hundred years, I felt the tingle of the touch of my mate. It caused a pleasurable spike to streak down my spine.

"Let me get you home?" I asked again and Therese nodded just as she started to sway once more.