~SINCLAIR~
He'd smelled her wolf the second it came back.
She hadn't come to tell him about it, though, so he decided the best way to handle the situation was to wait. With the way she'd left the table last night, she clearly needed some time alone to get through the situation.
Even if he was hurt that she wouldn't confide in him.
He didn't deserve even her confidence, of course. But it stung, nonetheless.
In the meantime, he would gather information about what her wolf's return meant for the Inlands, and how to prepare for when Vannie eventually came to him. He knew the wolf's reappearance would push her into wanting a full connection to the pack, so he and the Inlands had to get ready for that.
'Gather the Circle,' he ordered mentally to Maeve, and slumped down against his throne. He was getting more and more tired as the days went by, a warning from his body that he refused to yield to. A lot of things made sense when a Lycan found his mate, like the increased urge to be beside her all the time.
The need to stay around just in case she needed something he could provide. And now, since Sinclair could not indulge that desire or risk making Vannie uncomfortable, his body was now working against him. Draining him faster so he could have an excuse to retire to wherever she was.
Stupid daemon.
He smelled an intruder in the vicinity of the halls even though it wasn't yet time for him to hold court with the Inlanders, and he sat straighter, instantly at alert.
It was Zara. He knew for sure when her scent became stronger, and the doors came open. "Your Majesty."
He frowned. Zara did not usually look that harried. Or visit him without explicit permission. "What is going on?"
"The Queen was found at the apothecary." He was on his feet before the first words were over, walking towards the faerie.
Already mindless, he didn't think twice about nudging at her mind, shattering the barriers she'd put so he could read her thoughts. Hearing her talk would not be enough, because Zara was very good at filtering bad news. He had to see it raw.
And bad news indeed, it was. He saw the image of his mate how she'd been found, with tear-streaked cheeks that had gone rose-gold. And those blues of her eyes had gone glassy, looking as lifeless as he suddenly felt inside. But the rest of her...
Dear Gods.
"The Queen has gone into heat," Zara finished, shrinking into herself.
He shut his eyes and released his hold on Zara's mind. She didn't appreciate when he did this to her, and he didn't like how she retreated from him when he did, so he tried to never do it. Today was different, and he didn't even know how to be sorry for it.
"I told you not to let her go to the apothecary alone." He didn't recognize his voice in this moment. Except, he did. This was the pre-Vannie Sinclair, the one who went into a blind rage at the most minor provocation. "I told you. You let the Keepers see their Queen in that way."
Rubbing her thighs against each other. Mouth open in agony she didn't know how to curb. Her hands reaching up to cup her breasts.
"They didn't see her."
"But they could smell her, d*mnit."
And suddenly he could, too, as he felt her settle in her chambers. The deeper, muskier scent of her brought him right to the edge of his sanity, and he was a hairsbreadth away from going on a killing rampage. He'd kill them, every unmated male that dared to come close to their Queen when she was vulnerable. "Gods."
"I'm sorry. She didn't leave through the doors. Somehow, she managed to deactivate the hexes—"
He wasn't listening. A part of him knew he was being irrational for putting the blame on Zara. And he knew after this, he'd be beating himself up for his own carelessness. But for now...
"Make a hex. Cast a magick spell. Bring her a f*cking concoction, I don't care. But we have to stop this now before we all do something we'll regret."
Zara's eyes glistened. "There's nothing I can do to help a wolf in heat."
He left the hall then, not even bothering to cancel the appointments he made. He'd deal with Zara later. Mere seconds later found him inside Vannie's chambers, where the scent of her had permeated every corner and every brick of the room. At his sharp growl, the Omega servers who'd been tending to her fled.
Vannie lay in the middle of the bed and stared straight at him through pupils that were blown to bits. She was calm now, so he approached her slowly, trying for a smile.
"Your wolf has only been here for one day and already—"
"Mark me."
He froze in his steps. Sure, this wasn't exactly the romantic situation he'd been hoping for when she asked him to take this step, but it didn't stop the bolt of longing from hitting him square in the chest.
"Vannie... darling. You don't really want that."
"Don't tell me what I want."
The next wave hit her then. She writhed and howled and released some more of that maddening scent, and if he remained here for much longer just watching her, he'd quite literally die.
"Vannie," he called, helpless. He wanted to help her, but marking would only take away the bite of the heat for a few hours at most.
What she really needed was mating. Continuous mating that would sate and wear her out.
"What—what is happening to me?" She stuttered, her body trembling with need. Her thighs brushed against each other, seeking something she didn't understand. Sin felt every inch of the animal he was for turning rock-solid by this situation.
She twisted and turned in agony, wanting release only he could give her. How could he do this without feeling like a lesser wolf? But more than that, how could he ignore her when she panted for him?