Twenty-five

Mourgent talked with Indrik while others mingled and danced around them. He had left Zazriel to Carlotta's and Zelda's helping hands to prepare for the Feast. He knew that both females would be able to watch his mate and let him know if there was trouble. Orion and others were also mingling, but being alert in case of any attack. Mourgent was pleased with the outcome.

"How did you convince Zazriel to share her pack?" Indrik asked then.

Mourgent shrugged. "With truth."

Indrik rolled his eyes. "Mourgent, out of all the alphas I know, you are the most possessive and ruthless. You didn't force her?"

Mourgent clenched his jaw, not liking how his friend believed he would hurt his own mate so easily. But then, he had, hadn't he? Mourgent had hurt Zazriel so much, she was on death's doorstep not too long ago. Maybe it wasn't his fault directly, but he was the root cause of her pain. His gut roiled. He wondered if Zazriel would truly forgive him, then accept him as a mate. He wondered how long it would take before that happened.

Orion walked up to them and bowed his head. "Alpha, the Luna is waiting for you."

Mourgent left Indrik's side and went to the doors leading outside. There he found his mate in her chair, Zelda's blue gown shimmering lightly. He paused, gazing down at her with awe. Zazriel slowly looked up at him, shy eyes blinking. "You're beautiful," he rasped.

She smiled. "I didn't do much."

Mourgent shrugged and went around to push her inside. Bending low, he whispered in her ear, "Focus on me, tonight. No one else matters, no one else needs to matter."

Again, she smiled. "If you say so."

He growled playfully then parked her chair near the wall. Going around, he held his arms out for her. "I want to dance, Z."

Zazriel swallowed her nerves and let Mourgent lift her into his arms. He didn't hold her bridal style like usual, but her waist while she kept her arms about his neck and her legs dangled uselessly. Carefully, he swayed them about the floor, and Zazriel felt the beautiful gown swish about her. She looked down and for a moment, could imagine she was a princess. A beautiful princess with a Prince. Of course, she couldn't be a princess because no princess was stuck to a wheelchair.

"Why are you watching the ground?" Mourgent asked softly.

Zazriel glanced at him and blushed. "I wasn't. I was watching my skirts"

Mourgent glanced down and hummed. "Afraid I'll step on them?"

"No. I like how they look."

Mourgent met her eyes with his grey ones. "You really haven't danced before, have you?"

"I'm not dancing now. You are."

He rolled his eyes. "Z, you are dancing. There's music, I'm holding you, and we're moving."

She giggled. "Why do you make something so complicated so simple?"

"Because it is," he whispered. "Why do you make something so simple so complicated?"

Now she rolled her own eyes. Then they danced. Zazriel couldn't get the dizzying feeling of being spun around, but she did experience the romantic emotions of the swishing and swaying Mourgent made them do, by the closeness of their bodies, by the way that closeness seemed to provide privacy, as if they were separate from the rest of the world.

"Alpha, Luna, I am sorry to interrupt."

Zazriel blinked and woke from the daze she was in, and looked over to see Jasmine. "What's wrong?"

Jasmine smiled. "It's time to eat."

Zazriel blinked. The next thing she knew, she was being sat in her chair. She looked up at Mourgent and frowned. "That's it?"

He kissed her lips gently and straightened. "No. We have much more dancing to do. But this is where the Feast comes in." He began leading her out of the building and into the night where blankets were laid out on the grass, picnic baskets were set in the middle of each, as if it was a normal park where everyone had picnics.

Mourgent led her to a blanket on the other end of the grassy area then lifted her into his arms. She looked around as he set her on the blanket, seeing many alphas confused. She understood why.

When Mourgent returned from putting her chair to the side, she said, "Usually, we eat at tables."

He looked around and shrugged. "So?"

She looked at him. "So?"

He leaned over and kissed her. "This is my pack. Not theirs. I do as I wish. Especially when I want to impress my mate."

Zazriel stared at him. "Me?"

He nodded.

"But won't this set you apart from the others?"

Mourgent began bringing food out of the basket. "I realized a long time ago that I am set apart. Just like you. So, why try to be any different?"

Before she could answer, Marric approached and bowed his head to them, or Mourgent as he completely ignored her. "This isn't protocol, Alpha Mourgent."

"I don't follow protocol."

Marric blinked. "But-"

Mourgent leveled a hard gaze upon the other alpha. "You are a guest in my pack, Marric. More so, you are an alpha in another's territory. Be careful. I have tolerated your snide comments so far, but I wouldn't push it."

Marric actually thought about saying something then bowed. "Forgive my interruption." With that, he walked away.

Zazriel stared after him. "Did he just submit to you?"

"Yes and he isn't going to like it when he figures that out." Mourgent set a plate before her and handed her a fork. "Eat. I want to keep dancing with you."

Zazriel did eat, but she couldn't help but notice how alphas glanced at her with either curiosity or glared of hatred, as if it was her fault they were eating on the ground. But they were wolves, weren't they? Zazriel, Mourgent, everyone here was a wolf, meaning they could be eating more savagely than they were.

Finally, she ignored them. And it felt good.