Word Count: 1959

~Everin

Rising from the waves is a arduous act.

Salt water travels in thin rivets down my body, shifting with each rapid breath I pull inward. Thick, rolling waves lull against my back before breaking in a great crash before me. Water spits up while foam cascades towards the blackened sand on an uncompromising path.

My friend fights his way past the break point, shaking his shaggy chestnut hair that almost looks black from the wet.

"Fuck, she's cold this morning," he curses as we emerge from the sea.

I look over my shoulder. The sea is angry this morning, restless. A storm is unspooling over its surface toward the horizon, bruised clouds on a steady crawl toward us.

"Just how I like it," I murmur.

I turn to catch the towel Marko tosses at me. This has been our dawn routine since I met him three years ago. When I am available, that is. We swim until we're breathless, or until Marko almost drowns getting caught in an inexorable current.

He inspects me through a mess of wet hair covering half his face. "You're quiet this morning."

"I'm just thinking." I rub the towel through my hair.

He looks reluctantly up the black dunes. "I should probably get going shortly."

"The sun is barely up," I protest. Not that we'll see the sun beyond the clouds today, though.

A sharp gust bites at my damp skin, carrying the scent of rain. I let it invade my senses as I towel the rest of the water off my body.

"I'm starting my new job today." Marko pauses before his face breaks out into his classic half smile. "I'm officially a building contractor. I'll be working on that site at the bottom of Cleft's Hill."

I tilt my head from side to side, stretching the stiff muscle.

That site is familiar to me because I signed off on the new housing division. I would prefer to have Marko working for me, but he maintains that my presence is too insufferable to deal with all day.

I'm quietly aware that he doesn't want to work for me as not to be reminded of the difference in our station. I've learnt not to bring it up anymore, at risk of injuring this ego.

"I'm happy for you. You earned this." I couldn't imagine anyone else more worthy of good things.

"You're about to be happier." He pauses, for what I assume is dramatic effect. "Ana is pregnant."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"We just found out a couple days ago. It's part of the reason I took this job." He rubs the back of his neck, unable to shake the pure joy in his smile.

"Holy shit." I laugh breathlessly before pulling him in for a hug. "Congratulations, brother."

He pounds on my back before he pulls away from me. How he feels is written all over his face — he's happy, excited and in disbelief.

Ana is as much my friend as Marko is. She was how I met him in the first place, and their friendship has meant more to me than anything.

I've never had people I could trust around me, until them.

"Thanks. I'm fucking happy." He shakes his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe fate chose me for her, and now I'm going to be the father to her children."

The fact that they are mates is a blessing I am glad for. No two people could be more fitting for each other.

Yet, their love is a reminder of how unlikely my own is. Will I ever encounter my mate naturally, as they have? Is she out there right now, wondering about me with equal curiosity?

"She also chose you, Marko. You're a good man, and your child is going to be lucky to have you as a father," I tell him. "I just hope your child can forgive your poor humour.

His eyes narrow on my wry smile, giving my shoulder a playful shove before we begin walking up the beach.

"I just don't want to fuck it up." He ruffles his hand through his wet hair. The wind is already beginning to dry the fluffy ends.

"You're surrounded by people who care, who'll do anything for you," I remind him. "If you need—"

He gives me a sharp look. "Don't say it."

I hold my hands up defensively. His stubbornness is a marvel, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to let him know that regardless of whether he wants my help in any capacity, it's there for him.

"I'm not." I pause atop the dark sand dune, flaxen grass brushing against my shins. "Not really, anyway..."

"If I ever thought we needed money, truly, you would be the first person I came to." He doesn't say it with much certainty. I'm sure Ana has given him many lectures on this matter.

She is much less opposed to charity.

"Just don't be stubborn. It's more than you now. It's Ana, and it's baby." I turn back to look at the sea, feeling its depths calling to me. I wish I had all the time in the world to immerse myself beneath the waves.

"Hey, you better be nice to me. I'm the only person in your life who doesn't find you fucking terrifying." He shakes his head at the notion. "Actually, I find you rather—"

"Quiet," I scold quietly. He meets my glare with an animated grin. "I have some news of my own."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm getting married. Next week," I muse casually.

The look on Marko's face almost makes me laugh. He looks as though I've just told him I'm stepping down from my position as Alpha so I can commit myself to a travelling circus.

He takes a moment to sober. "Is this about the deal you made with Tobias Ashwood?"
 
"There is no deal," I correct sharply. "He indicated that he was offering his daughter as a bride in an act of good faith. He believes this can repair ties after his blatant border breach that left three of my units flattened."

I've been biding my time, calculating my response to his latest offence against me. Perhaps his daughters heart in a box will do, for I'm not so foolish as to believe she is actually here for the reason she claims.

I wonder how she plans to kill me, or what information she plans to steal.

"That's a pretty big offer. I mean, giving you his daughter? The implications of that are..." Marko rubs the back of his neck, shuddering.

"I know. Trust me," I mutter.

Marko isn't as well versed with brutal politics. Offering spouses is common, although usually it's for money, not good will. I don't co-sign the practice. I only accepted Aesira to use her as she intends to use me, and perhaps make a statement to her father.

But also, when she stood there in the ugliest dress I had ever see, resigned yet as stubborn as any Ashwood, I felt the urge to keep her. I don't want her returning to Tobias.

Marko nudges me. "He's okay with you corrupting his bloodline with your seed?"

I wince at his crass choice of words, and the images it evokes.

"She'll never have a lick of his power again, so what risk is it to him?" I shiver as a particularly bitter gust of wind grazes over my skin. "I on the other hand..."

"It doesn't matter. You won't reproduce with anyone other than your mate, so nothing to worry about, right?" He watches me carefully.

He's right. Reproduction with anyone else would be a grave offence to my mate, who is out there somewhere, yet to meet me. I may have agreed to marry Aesira, but it is only temporary. The moment I find my mate, our union will be severed.

In whatever way necessary...

"Exactly," I remark. "This is the best opportunity I've had to gain intel. She's lived her entire life in Tobias's proximity, and she clearly knows a great deal about how the pack operates."

"Why so bothered, then?"

I sigh, watching a particularly zealous wave reach up the beach, the white foamy edges contrasting against the black sand.

"She's obviously here to kill me." I'm not sure how yet, but I'm sure whatever she's conjured up is harsh and gruesome.

That is, if it were even her decision. If not, I'm sure she wishes it were.

Marko shifts uncomfortably next to me. "There's no actual risk of that, right?"

"Of course not," I assure him. "She's cunning, but few can challenge an Alpha."

We turn, crossing over the rolling dunes to where our transports are parked by the roadside. I'm eager to put clothing on, since the brittle wind has done little to dry me off entirely.

"How are you going to get information out of her then?" Marko asks.

"I'm going to give her the illusion of control, power. Her guard will lower, and eventually she'll slip." That is the goal, anyway. I get the feeling it will be more difficult than I anticipated to get valuable information out of Aesira.

I step inside my transport, sighing in relief. At least the walls protect me from the chill of this mornings wind.

Marko appears at the door of the cabin. "Seducing her for it would be far quicker."

I pull a face, but the thought gives me pause.

Aesira is as beautiful as she was always rumoured to be. She stood in my parlour all unkempt and wild, her raven curls framing her angular face and her sharp blue eyes narrowed into accusing slits. It took me by surprise, which these days, is a rare occurrence.

If she were anyone else, taking her to my bed wouldn't be a chore. However, she is her father's daughter, and that is enough to put me off. 

"No. I wouldn't do that," I tell him. "I want to earn this."

"Or, you could imprison her and torture her. You could get what you need in a day," he says with a conspiratorial smile.

"Marko," I scold.

"I only said that because I knew you wouldn't do it." He laughs with a shrug. "You want her dead though, right? You can't keep her forever."

No, and I wouldn't want to. Aesira only has so much use to me, and once it has run out, she'll be easy to rid of. I get the feeling that will be the best for my sanity, anyway.

"Of course I want her dead. The Ashwood family line will end, and it will be at my hand," I mutter. "But I won't stand for torture."

"I know." He rests his shoulder against his transport, watching me warily. "What about Tarnia?"
 
"Nothing changes," I say curtly.

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm not in love with Tarnia, and she isn't in love with me." It's simple enough, but apparently it fascinates Marko to no end. "No one is getting hurt by this except for Ashwood's."

Tarnia, when I told her about my plan, was entirely unbothered. We've never staked a claim to each other.

Marko eyes me sideways. "If you say so."

"What?"

"I get the feeling this isn't going to end the way you're intending it to." He smiles, as if enjoying a personal joke. "I don't think when it comes down to it, you'll kill that girl."

I shrug loosely before stepping into my transport. Maybe he's right.

Or maybe I'm the monster I think I am.

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