Chapter Text
If anyone want to send a message, Tumblr : evinaadlene
Disclaimer:
This is an original AU fanfiction. None of the characters represent real life, just burrowing names and faces.
The story plot is mine, please refrain from stealing or publishing on any other platform without my consent. If you wish to translate it into another language, feel free to contact me.
BOOK 03
Prologue: Lovers
What draws two souls together?
What binds them in unspoken agreements of fellowship and loyalty? How do you start to care? And where does that familiar affection blurs into ardent desire? How can two paradoxical beings hunger for one another with fervent passion?"
Zayn couldn’t really tell as he tiptoes along the empty hallway silently. Countless men and women had always pursued him, from nobles to peasants and occasionally even Omegas if given the chance. And he had let them plentifully, yielding to mindless pleasure. But this is different. This is all consuming, body and mind. Unquenchable to the point that it is all he could think of, night and day.
The chandeliers emanated a soothing light across the passageway as he walked. It is still the evening, yet the palace hallways get dark sooner than the chambers and halls usually.
He has bribed two Omegas to distract the guards off the doors. They won’t be back for some time for sure. Still he keeps quiet, just in case. It was easy to ditch Niall, Dominic and Han who were heading to Glottal, the small low-class whorehouse they’ve been making clandestine trips for amusement. His friends were too excited to notice his absence in the jaunt for the bawdy brothel for the fourth time in a row, except for Niall maybe. But the southerner had not bothered him with questions. Well, he knew he favored Niall more than the rest of them for a reason.
Reaching the gold gilded doors, Zayn doesn’t knock. He didn’t want to make sounds, unless necessary. It is strange to feel hesitant doing something that he’s been doing mindlessly for years, but the last few days have changed something that would never be the same again between them. Even thinking of him made a streak of warmth come alive inside Zayn now, unlike before. But come to think of it, the green eyed Lycan boy had been his muse as long as he could remember, probably since the moment he laid eyes on him. The little Lycan royal that had taken the weight of a faction to his own young shoulders in a foreign land. How did he grow up to be the one that Zayn couldn’t keep his mind off of?
Slowly wrapping his fingers around the gold handle Zayn turns it, pushing the heavy door open just enough. He probably dreamed about this last night. Of his soul piercing green eyes and the engulfing warmth of his body against his own skin.
The blue red draped ample chamber seems empty first. But then Zayn sees him.
Harry.
Sat on the sofa where he usually spent hours into the night reading, or strumming at his harp, Harry seems to be waiting, eyes staring right at him. There were no books or harps on him this time. Curly locks gracing the slightly hunched, perfect shoulders, his lean form relaxed on the velvet sofa, the Lycan is a sight to behold as always, with his deliciously refined red lips.
“Evening.” Zayn offers timorously with a thin smile, ambling closer.
Harry blinks.
“You came.” He seemed much more relaxed than Zayn, even the beating of his heart sounds calm.
“How could I not?” Zayn sighs, “You’ve imprinted on me. I'm your ruhan.”
Harry covers his mouth with a fist, laughing. “Do you even know the meaning of that?” His face turns coy, watching Zayn sit on the sofa near his bare feet.
“I do.” Zayn wraps his palm around the arch of a foot as if he couldn't resist feeling the warmth of him. Resist touching him. “It means that your inner being has chosen me, marked me for life. That we’re bound by heart and soul. Soulmates, meant to be.”
Harry tightens his jaw, but he seems pleased, and also ticklish as Zayn slowly drags his fingers up his shine, pushing his trouser up to the knee. He moves his hand to grip on the edge of the couch, revealing red bitten lips.
His heartbeat rises.
“One has to be of age to imprint. But,” Harry squints his green orbs. “You seem to know an awful lot about imprinting for a Vampire.” he remarks, fidgeting.
Zayn couldn’t take his eyes off his red, bow lips even if he tried. He didn’t care that Harry could see him staring. “You’ve taught me well.”
Well, he has. And many more things, since he started living in the capital as the Royal ward. Since Zayn managed to convince him to be friends with him. That adorable, courageous boy with impeccable green eyes has grown into this beautiful creature in front of him. And he’s probably not even come of age yet. But gazes seem to turn to him from all corners more and more, and Zayn didn’t know why he had felt so unsettled by all the attention Harry seemed to get until a few days ago. But looking into his greenest eyes, now he might have a clue.
Harry doesn’t move as Zayn leans closer, dragging his palm on the trouser of thigh. But he lowers his eyes, as if embarrassed. Zayn keeps his eyes on Harry’s face, his cherry lips. It felt like a crime to look away from perfection. How did he ever look away before, he didn’t know.
“Can I kiss you?” he pleads, inhaling deep as he listens to the loud beating of his heart.
Harry bites his lip, subconsciously perhaps. And all Zayn wants to do is to put his own mouth on it, taste him.
Harry nods, almost timidly. A knowing smile lines on his lips. And it’s the only invitation Zayn wanted. He could wait no more.
Harry gasps as Zayn dives right in, kissing him on lips with no hesitation whatsoever. Perhaps Zayn has done far more kissing than the young Alpha for him to be as coy as him. But Harry too follows soon after the initial shock, tasting him right back… as if he’s been in a drought that could only be remedied by the rain of Zayn affections.
Zayn sweeps his fingers into the locks of bronze curls, holding his face and kissing him deep. The warmth of his lips, the life in his breath, peach soft skin… the pure perfection of his body, it all made his head float.
The more he had him, the more he wanted him, more he wanted to feel him, as deeply as possible. Zayn knows he is falling for him. And he cherished the feeling more than he did anything.
…
He makes love to him, on the couch.
They don’t move to the bed, though it’s just a few feet away. Zayn could have carried him, but his patience is short. So he loves him where he has the excuse to be closest to him.
His rhythmic breathing gets sweetly louder as Zayn does, and so does the beating of his heart. Eyes closed momentarily, Harry exhales deep as Zayn slides into him slowly, as if he’s feeling every bit of it much deeper than Zayn’s senses ever could. Sweat pools down his lean body, drenching them both. His hair a complete mess from what it was, a mess Zayn made. His lips, cherry red from Zayn’s invasion earlier, stays loose and relaxed. And his usual angular brows, mimicking his emotions, begs for more above his moist eyes.
He seemed overwhelmed by pleasure as he did the last two times. And Zayn feels overwhelmingly high watching him, pleasing him so intimately like this.
Why didn't they love like this sooner? Zayn couldn’t understand.
……
Harry cuddles into Zayn as if his life depended on clinging to him afterwards, burying his head in the dip of his shoulder and wrapping his limbs around him timidly. And Zayn holds him in his arms, intoxicated in his warmth. Harry had been quiet both times afterwards, napping on him like a content cat. But today he has his eyes open, and is pensieve.
“You seem to be thinking.” Zayn says, picking on wayward locks of bronze hair and placing them behind his ear. It felt right and satisfying to have his weight on him like this, blissful.
Harry shrugs, lightly, running the tips of his fingers on Zayn’s chest. Even his fingertips felt warm on him.
“I’ve not done this with anyone before.”
“Cuddling?" Zayn huffs playfully. "Pretty sure I’ve seen you sleeping on Han and Niall both.” He hugs Harry closer.
But Harry doesn’t really react, or even move this time. It makes Zayn turn to him searchingly, to watch his face. The light blush in his face enhanced the innocence in his beautiful features, the pureness of it almost endearing. Something tugs in Zayn’s gut with realization.
Does that mean …- does that mean he’d been untouched until Zayn had..? Does it mean that Zayn had taken his virginity?
Of course, his hesitance and coyness despite his innocent excitement on being adored intimately… of being marked. He should have realized. He should have at least asked him.
Emotion grapples him deep as he watches his young, beautiful face that’s hiding away from him.
Has Zayn been gentle enough? Tender enough?
Zayn deepens the hold of his arms around, turning his face to gaze into those beautiful greens. He brushes his thumb on those smooth perfect lips tenderly.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Harry smiles, his lips pressed. A light blush colors his face, but also a hint of melancholy. It is no secret that many eyed him the same way they did the Omegas in their beds, especially recently. Harry often tiptoed around the advances or used Zayn as a shield to hide away from the most.
“you're my ruhan. I trust you.” the Lycan boy mumbles, looking at Zayn with his face filled with adoration.
And Zayn knows at that moment that he is truly ruined for anyone else, or anything else, bewitched by the charm and beauty of this wayward Lycan in his arms and his innocence for the eternity of his life. Ruined. Damned and cursed for love anywhere else.
He vouched to himself then, and out loud to Harry later, that he’d protect him, and protect his trust with his life. With all his might. Nothing would come between them, and their sacred love.
Or so they thought…
It only took a matter of a few years for tragedy to hit. For him to turn into something Zayn couldn’t have imagined, breaking not only his trust, but also both their hearts into pieces.
In his place, now Zayn had a naive, nimble yet demanding thing in his arms, looking at him with her sharp eyes, trying to read his thoughts. And she thinks she’s saving him, when all she did was remind him of what she’s not. And the absence of his love. He is truly ruined, damned for love.
“My Prince?”
Her inquiring voice wakes him from the daydream. She looks as if she is waiting for his answer. Did she ask him something?
“You seem to be thinking.” she observes, running her long fingers down his arm, continuing to watch him.
He forces a smile despite himself.
In another world, at another time, it would be him instead of her in Zayn’s arms. These pale gold long streaks of hair would be his deep bronze locks that Zayn so longed to run his fingers through. It shall be his beautiful greens instead of these blues. The soft rosy mouth in front of him would be the defined cherry lips he wanted to keep tasting every time he sees him. And he’ll be engulfed by the soul-warming heat of his body in the place of the same lifeless cold as Zayn’s own.
Zayn knows he is ruined. Damned and cursed for him. He’s doomed in love. There’s no use even trying to deny it. It’s probably fate, but also a choice he made when he walked along that hallway for the very first time and each and every time he did after that.
Gigiana’s dainty fingers slip into his, dragging him back to present, again.
She’s bolder than most of the timid, faint hearted royal lasses that are too intimidated by his presence, he’ll give her that.
But her fire is also driven by the hate and anger she nurtured inside her, fueled by vengeance for her sister. His love is the object of her hate. Zayn knew that she had been a willing witness to the catastrophe that went down at Goal house when Montgomery overplayed his hand. And might have even fueled the fire. It is also no secret to Zayn that she considered it a victory to bring him to her side - or which is what she thought of their betrothal as.
Little did she know that this is the only way that he, Zayn could secure his title and fight for what is his. Only way he could make sure that the King can not deny him the crown, which will eventually let him inherit the ownership of the royal ward. Only way he could prove that he would not back down. He may be a liar and a sham, a deceiver which she or house Hadid did not deserve after the tragedy they went through… but he’s willing to do even more than that for his love. For the one that he loved and wronged.
“You’ve been distracted, more so lately." her fingers tightens around his slightly more, nudging him for attention. "Is there anything that I can do to ease your thoughts, my lord?”
There’s a softness in her eyes as she watches him, as if she could almost understand his bane... and cared. But it is rather condescending than he could bear.
“Forgive me for my clumsiness, my lady. I’ve been well looked after. I’ve had a late night after the celebration is all.” He reasons. Last thing he wanted Gigiana to see is him moping, which is what he had been doing since the betrothal ceremony yesterday evening. He shouldn’t have gotten drunk that much.
“I shouldn’t have let cousin Dominic take you gallivanting around the town until dawn. Most Eastern taverns are more secular, not as politely cultured or artful as the capital. I worry that you’ll find it low standard.”
Her ability to play blind amazes him sometimes. But she only managed that with her own determination to marry him, though it did slip at times. She’d be a fool to not notice how much of a wreck he was yesterday during and after the ceremony. Dominic had been sensible enough to make sure he didn’t change his mind at the last moment and ride away before the betrothal, then distracting him afterwards by getting him drunk enough to lose his mind.
“I cherish what the east has to offer. Including your fair hand, my lady.” He lifts her hand placing a peck of a kiss. “Nothing would change that.”
Her eyes brightens, satisfied for the moment. But she will take it out from him, vengeful as she is.
“In nine weeks, we’ll be married. And I’ll be yours, My lord. I hear the capital is already making preparations for the celebration.”
He lets him sigh with a small smile. “So I hear.”
The decision to get married in front of the King and the court in the capital was fueled by the house Hadid for the most part. Zayn would have preferred to have the matrimonial here in the east, away from the dramatics and chauvinistic nobles. But Gigiana had insisted on the splendor and spectacle of Germia. To make it grander festive than the annual victory celebration against Homas there, which is the biggest celebration the capital hosts.
In the short time Zayn had spent here in eastern territory, he learned that easterners would compete for almost everything against the already defeated Lycan faction. Even if it’s about some unrelated celebration. And Zayn had let Gigiana and her family have their way.
Maybe it would make a mark on the King’s eye as well. A statement from Zayn, the one who he named his heir.
“I’ve requested everything to be in white and gold. The ceremony to be outside among the lush gardens, then the feast in the grand hall. Seven days of festivities after the ceremony for Germia to celebrate.” She holds his hand to her bosom. “I want it all to be perfect.”
“Whatever you wish, my lady. You just have to ask.”
She keeps her blue eyes on him, and coldness flickers behind them.
“I’d rather not have that Alpha beast soiling our ceremony with his presence. He needs to be kept chained to Narakh where he belongs during the time, my Prince. I don’t want his curses or his evil eye for us.”
Zayn gazes back at her without a word. Here it is, her vindication.
It’s been months since they’ve gotten the news that the King had sent the royal ward back to Narakh. And the Hadid house, including Gigiana, had eagerly approved the sentence, regardless not knowing the cause or reason. It is likely the outcome of allegations made against him in front of the High Council, Zayn knew. But the reasons didn’t matter to the Hadids.
“It would be the King’s decision, my lady.” He leaves her hand to sit on the bench of the arbor where they are standing. He tries to ignore the tug deep in his gut as he looks away from her. “He’s a member of the Germian court, and a State Lord. His presence would be mandatory if he returns to the capital.”
“His title disgraces the rest of the elite in the capital! He’s a murderous beast, an animal. A lowly creature that needed to be bound and trained. Yet the King suffers the noble by bringing him to court. It’s a disgrace to the elite. Should I suffer too on my wedding day in silence?”
Leaning forward, Zayn clasps his palms between his knees, sighing tiredly. He deserved being tested like this for being so careless yesterday. And no, he had not really thought of how he would bear to see Harry on the day if it came to it honestly. He didn’t have the strength to.
“I’ll raise it to the King if it concerns you, my lady.”
“Concern?”
She scoffs, taking a step towards him with the same emotion filled agitation whenever the topic crosses their rare conversations. “It irks me that he breathes and walks freely in the capital with his sham nobility after all he's done! That creature doesn’t just concern me, My lord. It Appalls me!” Her face tightens with a scowl as Zayn just stares at her without a word. “My sister lies in a grave after he mauled her bloody, killed her. And all he got was two years at Narakh before being welcomed back to the capital with titles. I saw his mockery and his wickedness in my own eyes at the capital. He’ll do the same whenever he gets the chance! He’s cunning and calculating. If my father didn’t have the means to pay the amounts he did for all those witnesses, persuade them to speak of his adultery, he would have gone unpunished the first time.”
Zayn watches her darkened face for a moment as she keeps speaking. The sound of her voice blurs out as his mind swirls around her words like a sticky patch out in the open.
“Pay the amounts?” He asks quietly, watching her without blinking. “What do you mean?”
Complacent, Gigiana gazes back at him.
She opens her mouth, then closes it as if suddenly measuring his question and her words.
“He’s a deceiver that had everyone in his pocket. No one would willingly testify against him. Even his Majesty, the King, knew of it. It is his Majesty who encouraged that my lord father find witnesses for his adultery in whatever means. His Majesty even made suggestions for the ones my lord father should approach.” she reveals, defensively, arrogantly as Zayn just stares at him. “Regardless, he got away with just time at Narakh in the end. He should have been given the death sentences. Beheaded, like his monstrous mother for the world to see! But he crawled out of it with his wickedness. He must have blindsided the crown with his slippery adulterous ways.” She claims hatefully. “The only thing that gave my family peace was knowing that our Gold guard punished him the way he deserved when they had the chance in the dungeons the night after his capture. Made him atone the way he should have.” She smirks. “He’s vengeful, shameless and remorseless. That’s the reason he tried to attack me and the Gold guard out of spite at Goael house.”
“The Gold guard punished him in the dungeons when he was in his wolf form? How?” Zayn inquires. It wounded him to hear this, the details. But how is it even possible? Who goes near an Alpha wolf in a full moon?
“Wolf form?” Gigiana repeats, irked. “They’d have mentioned if that beast grew a snout. The Gold guard said he squealed like a mutt all along when they gave the taste of his own wickedness. Pretending he’s innocent.”
Zayn tightens his jaws, bowing his head to stare at his feet. Something twisted in his gut listening to her words. But he wills himself to stay put. Taste of his own wickedness? Each word vibrates in his ears. Paid witnesses, undeclared punishments? He's heard different things about the trial from many during past years. Niall had been hurling over and over with complaints that matched with exactly what Gigiana is saying. Is this true then? Is it all true?
What did they do to him before the trial? What did Harry go through in the dungeons?
He’d forgotten that Harry was held there in the filth for weeks before the conviction. He'd been imprisoned there for days before Zayn returned to the capital from Lanvish to witness the unpleasant trial which was mid-flight. And Zayn was forbidden by the King to have any affiliations with the most despised Lycan of the capital at the time. Distraught by everything he’d been hearing of his convicted lover amid the heat of events, Zayn had stayed away, despite himself. And now, with Gigiana’s thorn-ed words, he all but regrets it all over again. He should have tried harder to forgive Harry. He shouldn’t have punished him the way he had, when that was all everyone else was doing. He should have at least tried harder to see him.
Something else also stung him.
Bella was found dead in Harry’s chamber the day before the full moon, that’s what he was told as he remembers as it all happened yesterday. How could he not take the wolf form the day after? It was his first transition… the one Harry spent sleepless nights worrying about. The one that made him so anxious, that Zayn had to steal books from the forbidden section in the Athenaeum to find all he could to do whatever the preparations needed. Zayn was in Lanvish on palace appointed duties during the week of the full moon. But Harry had all he would need for his first transition. The one they knew he wouldn’t have any control over. Mild sleeping droughts, Vervain fumed candles and everything else to help him to his calm was arranged for him. Zayn made sure of it before he left.
The first transition was meant to be wilder, more painful with accumulated energy throughout the younger years of an Alpha. Did he not turn? How? Why?
The only thing that could stop a first transition according to the books were either a fatal loss of blood or a considerable quantity of wolfs-bane in the body, which could lead Lycan to paralysis and even death.
“Apparently he squealed out your name and few other nobles’,” she spells it out with a tinge of smugness, and accusation. As if there’s guilt by association. “Maybe his cunning hoped that screaming the noble names out would give it an upper hand. But the Gold guard knows the wickedness of the Alphas. The lies, and the rage of the savage beasts. They made him pay.”
He looks up at her to see the cruel satisfaction in her face. The words wreck him to the marrow of his bones.
He doesn't bother contemplating what about this despicable memory she found pleasure in. Is it revealing this to him in such a way or the sheer memory of it. There is no space for forgiveness in her vindictive face, or reason. Losing a loved one would do that to you, Zayn would know that more than anything. Because it’s not just Hadids that lost their daughter, sister that day. Zayn also lost. He lost his lover, the one who he vouched he’d protect. And with him, his soul, his direction and virtue.
What really happened in that dungeon?
Did not Harry not transform in his first full moon when he came of age? Why? How? After the gruesome incident with Gigiana and the Gold guard at Goael house, Zayn always wondered why Harry reacted the way he did that day so foolishly, ruthlessly. Was it anger? Resentment? Or was it out of impulse? Zayn couldn’t guess at the time. But now… now something stung.
Zayn remembers the impassive and distracted demeanor Harry held throughout his trial years back as it happened today. He seemed remorseless, emotionless. Much less than the one he held in his arms and called his lover. A haggard, empty ghost that had lost the way. They labeled him a debauched opportunist. A disloyal creature of habit. And Zayn let them. He let them take him from him, steal him from him. What did they do to him? What happened on that destined day? And before?
Gigiana’s vile revelation hinted at the worst.
And he needed to find out. He needed to know.
He had every right to...
---------------- TBC