True Mates Read online

  True Mates

  A Gay Shifter MPREG

  Noah Harris

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  Published by BUP LLC, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 by Noah Harris

  All registered trademarks in this book are the property of their respective owners.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Please don't read if you are under eighteen.

  All rights reserved.

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  Chapter One

  Philip

  Despite the distance between himself and the rest of the castle, Philip could still hear the frenzied activity of the servants. The staff were running back and forth as if their lives depended on it, preparing the castle. In some way, he supposed, their lives did depend on it. His father wasn’t a harsh man, but with the slow changes to his father’s personality in recent years, the staff, along with everyone else in the king’s life, were wary of the possible shift toward a darker mood.

  A mood Philip shared as he adjusted the doublet over his broad chest. Normally bright blue eyes stared back from the mirror, the faint lines of annoyance etched into his forehead. He pulled his hand from his clothes long enough to swipe a thick lock of blond hair from his face, muttering that he’d need to trim it soon. The current trend for men in the kingdom was a slightly disheveled look, coupled with a close cropped yet full beard. Philip didn’t mind the beard much, but his hair was getting just a shade too long for his taste.

  The shrill noise of passing servants grated in his ears, their nervousness at the growing deadline serving to feed their excitement. While the whole kingdom prepared for the upcoming festivities, the castle felt overloaded with frantic energy. Philip knew he was expected to be bright and chipper for the Christmas celebrations, but only while he was in the public eye. For the twelve days between the solstice and the next full moon, during which time the celebrations would continue, he would smile and laugh only so long as he was being watched. When he was alone however, he would glower and growl.

  For nearly a fortnight, the castle would be filled with feasting, galas, balls, and all manner of celebrations. Royalty from all over would swarm the castle, enjoying his father, King Vernal Chrysomon’s hospitality. Prince Philip would be expected to play the perfect, gracious host, maintaining the playful, boyish air he’d learned to affect many years before.

  He’d discovered at a young age just how important it was for him to appear to be the dashing young prince, just roguish enough to seem daring, but staying within the bounds of propriety. Philip had to be ready with a quick joke, a believable, if false, smile, and keep a constant bounty of conversation topics on hand. All the while he would have to remember names and faces, steps to various dances, both domestic and foreign, and forever stuff his face with various foods as he endured all manner of dull conversation. Even as a game, the mask he was forced to wear in front of others was beginning to feel heavy and a little sharp around the edges.

  The door to his quarters opened, and Philip whirled around to snap at the intruder. The snarl on his lips died when he saw it was only Jaeger, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. The man’s presence was a stark reminder of just why Philip was feeling so foul, but he couldn’t bring himself to be truly resentful. Seeing Jaeger always invoked an unusual mix of heartache, despair, anger, and frustration. There was also the sense of relief lying beneath it all, Jaeger’s presence always soothing the raw edges of Philip’s nerves.

  “Do I need to come back later?” Jaeger asked, the seriousness of his words ruined by the teasing tone of his voice.

  Philip snorted, turning his attention back to the mirror. “I thought you were one of the servants. They’ve been trying to come in and out of here all morning, asking if I think the boughs of holly should stretch or drape, should the candles be alternating colors, or all white on one side, and all red on the other.”

  “They should have known better than to ask you for decorating tips,” Jaeger said with a low laugh.

  Philip eyed the man’s reflection. “I can decorate just fine, thank you.”

  Jaeger’s dark eyes peered back, his smile unwavering. “If you can be bothered that is. When you’re too busy glaring at your own reflection however, it becomes a little trickier.”

  “I’m not glaring,” Philip protested.

  “Right, you’re just practicing your best stern face for when you’re eventually king,” Jaeger said.

  Philip rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his clothes. The buttons of the doublet had been fighting him from the moment he pulled it on, and his patience was growing thin. As another button refused to slip through its assigned buttonhole, Philip let out a low growl of impatience. His temper wasn’t always the best, and he could feel his inner wolf becoming restless the more irritable he became. His father had sworn to him the werewolf nature wouldn’t always be a burden, and one day he wouldn’t have to fight his passions as hard, but Philip had yet to see much change.

  “Here, let me,” Jaeger said quietly.

  Philip jumped in surprise, having been so caught up in trying to clothe himself, he hadn’t heard Jaeger walk up behind him. Jaeger wasn’t much shorter than Philip, and his dark eyes peered over Philip’s shoulder in the mirror. Unlike so many of the armed guards in the castle, Jaeger preferred leather and cloth for his armor. While he was certainly less imposing than the metal clad guards, it allowed him a great deal of stealth. Philip’s distraction hadn’t been the only thing which allowed Jaeger to move quietly, between his friend’s noiseless protective gear, and his trained ability to move quickly and quietly, Jaeger was as silent as a shadow when he wanted to be.

  “I can dress myself,” Philip growled.

  Jaeger lay a hand on Philip’s side, gently turning him as he spoke. “So you can, however you seem to be losing the battle with your buttons. Perhaps if you hadn’t chased all the servants away, you could have been dressed by now and had all the time you needed to be angry in peace.”

  Philip had sent the servants away because he wanted time to deal with what lay ahead of him in peace and quiet. He wouldn’t need to tell Jaeger that however, his private guard and best friend already knew. Save for the occasional nosy servant, Jaeger was the only person in the world who knew just how unhappy Philip was.

  Begrudgingly, Philip allowed himself to be turned around to face Jaeger. Jaeger’s ebony hair was kept purposefully short, so he didn’t have to worry about it getting in his face should he need to fight. It marked him as outside the rules of royalty and was a sign of his position within the court. Both of them had been raised alongside the other, with
Jaeger a ward of the king. It wasn’t until they were older that the differences between the two of them, socially speaking, became more obvious and had begun to affect their lives.

  “This would probably be easier if the buttons weren’t so big, and the holes so small,” Philip grumbled.

  Jaeger smiled, slipping a button through the hole easily. “Or perhaps you should have allowed someone to do it for you.”

  “I didn’t want anyone in here,” Philip said.

  Jaeger looked up from the buttons, his smile turning sad. Philip could see beyond his air of playfulness. He saw the real unhappiness sitting in Jaeger’s heart. Neither of them were thrilled at the celebrations and subsequent guests. Once their royal visitors arrived, everything in their lives was going to be different. They’d known the day was coming, but it’d been easy to ignore, so long as the problem was on the other side of the continent.

  “Princess Minerva Tottenham Regina Kristeva Manora, soon to be Queen of the Northern Reach,” Jaeger said quietly.

  It wasn’t a name Philip wanted to hear, but he nodded in agreement all the same. The Princess and future queen was on her way to his kingdom. The Southern Plains hadn’t seen a royal visit from their northern neighbors in quite some time, and the whole kingdom was awash with excitement and rumor. Everyone of course knew that Prince Philip and Princess Minerva were slated to be wed, joining the two kingdoms together for a prosperous and peaceful future.

  What they didn’t know however, was just how much Philip wished for a different fate. His life wasn’t about what he wanted however. As he’d grown older, the carefree fun and lessons of youth had quickly turned far more serious. While Jaeger had begun down his own path to play protector and guard to Philip, the Prince had been learning decorum, history, lineage, and most importantly, duty. Everything he’d done as a teenager and now, as a young adult of twenty years, had been about his duty. The fake happiness, the need for diplomacy and charm around the nobility, were all qualities forming part of that duty.

  “And me, her husband for life,” Philip muttered unhappily.

  Jaeger had finished buttoning the doublet, but his hand lingered on Philip’s chest. “She’s luckier than she knows.”

  The old familiar ache settled deep in Philip’s chest as he gazed back at his best friend. The two of them had grown up alongside one another, only separating when their lives had been forced to take divergent paths. Jaeger could have done just about anything he wanted, but the man had chosen to learn how to fight, to protect, and had then taken the solemn vow to keep the royal family safe, even at the expense of his own life. While Philip had been forced to walk the narrow path of royalty as heir to the throne and kingdom, Jaeger had done everything possible to ensure he would always be at Philip’s side.

  It had led to a few bitter, but private, arguments between the two of them in the past. Philip hadn’t understood why Jaeger would trap himself, bound to the royal family. Jaeger was smart enough to have been a scholar, brave enough to have been an adventurer, and clever enough to have been a merchant or diplomat. Being a ward directly under the king’s care would have afforded Jaeger every opportunity, and Philip had been frustrated to find his friend had chosen the restrictive life of a Royal Personal Guard.

  “You could have been free of all this,” Philip said, an echo of the old argument.

  Jaeger adjusted Philip’s collar. “I’d never be free. It didn’t matter if I’d run to the opposite side of the world, this is where my heart would always be. Better to be right beside you, knowing you’re alive and well, instead of far away, pretending I didn’t want to be right where I am now.”

  It was the same argument Jaeger had made which ended their feud years ago too. Philip had just as little response to it now as he’d had when Jaeger first made it. In Jaeger’s position, Philip would have felt the same. It was easy for him to say Jaeger should’ve gone anywhere else in the kingdom but at his side, but he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to follow his own advice. Philip was sure the only thing that kept him going through the long years of drudgery, of learning what to say, what to wear and when, then acting it all out like a poorly paid actor on stage, had been Jaeger.

  Philip’s anger deflated, and his shoulders sagged. “It isn’t fair.”

  Jaeger smiled, brushing non-existent dirt from Philip’s shoulder. “When have our lives ever been fair?”

  It was a good point, but not one which made Philip feel any better. Their whole lives had been determined by the expectations placed on Philip’s shoulders. There were many others, those far more ignorant of his life than Jaeger, who envied Philip’s position. In truth, even the lesser nobility had more freedom than he could ever dream of. Nothing he said or did was ever performed without first consulting the long list of acceptable behaviors which had been drilled into Philip’s head from a young age.

  “I hear she’s beautiful,” Jaeger added, as if it were meant to make Philip feel better.

  “A sight to be envied by all the women, and desired by all the men,” Philip added bitterly.

  It wouldn’t matter if the Princess was more beautiful than any woman who’d ever existed, Philip wouldn’t desire her. The only person he’d ever truly desired, was the leather and light mail clothed man before him. Even as boys, the two of them had been close, and that closeness had only deepened as the age of manhood had drawn down upon them. The closeness had become intimacy, and attraction had always haunted their interactions.

  Even as they grew into their young adult years, the attraction hung around them, almost palpable. There were times when Philip was sure it was visible to those who were paying enough attention. All he needed to do was look at Jaeger, and he would feel the pull in his gut, and the stirring of his loins.

  The two of them had seen enough of each other’s bodies over the years. Two boys growing up around one another saw plenty, and they’d shared much. Philip had a front row seat watching the once scrawny Jaeger fill out as he grew up. The once skinny boy had become a wiry man of grace, who held more strength in his frame than he appeared to. He knew, if he were to pull away the armor and the underclothes, he would find a patch of dark hair on Jaeger’s chest, with a thin line running down his stomach. There would be more to see, the further south he traveled, but he forced his mind away from those thoughts.

  He hadn’t pulled away fast enough however, as the look on Jaeger’s face told Philip some of his feelings had shown on his own face. Rather than back away from him, Jaeger’s deep eyes grew darker, the pupils swelling in anticipation. When they were younger, they wouldn’t have wasted time staring at one another across the small distance. While they’d never gone too far, Philip and Jaeger had allowed some of their curiosity to be fulfilled. There had always been an edge of innocence, mixed with eagerness, in their play, but that innocence was long gone as they’d grown into men.

  Where once Philip had only wanted to kiss his best friend, perhaps feel a bit of his skin against his, the adult Philip wanted to pull Jaeger from his armor and pin him to a pillar. He wanted to feel Jaeger’s skin against his, and the eager press of his mouth. Philip wanted nothing more than to hold Jaeger down, drive himself into the man, and leave him breathless and panting. The wolf within pawed at the edges of his mind, whining and almost growling, wishing it could have what he wanted.

  Jaeger’s fingers trembled, and he took a step back, looking away. The moment, which had been laced with mutual lust and attraction, began to dwindle. It had been years since either of them had allowed themselves to indulge in their desires. As Philip had grown older, the two of them had been under greater scrutiny. Philip was near to the age of majority, twenty-one, when he would legally be able to make his claim to the throne, and thus be capable of being properly married.

  Jaeger smiled shakily, looking to the door. “You look good, for smiling and charming the pants off of anyone who lays eyes on you.”

  There was a sadness in his attempt at humor. Philip returned the smile, forcing himself to l
ook at his reflection behind him once again. The doublet was much like the jacket he would wear, a rich blue, with vines of silver arching around it in an artful design. The silver accent drew out the blue, while the darker blue trim served to enhance the color of his eyes. It was tasteful, attractive, but still reserved enough to befit his station.

  A sharp knock on the door drew Jaeger away, and Philip growled at the interruption. “Come in, and it had better be for a good reason.”

  The man who entered his room did little to improve Philip’s mood. Sorcerer Orrin was respected throughout the kingdom, especially by King Vernal. He was a stoic looking man in his mid-fourth decade of life. He wasn’t overly loved, but his visionary powers were well known, and the accuracy of his visions were even more famous.

  Niles Orrin, Court Conjurer, and first among equals at the advisor’s table, stood an inch shorter than Philip. He was thin like Jaeger but lacked his appearance of strength and dexterity. Orrin bore himself with a certain level of dignity, but to Philip, it appeared forced and stiff. His dark hair did little to bring any life to the man’s pale gray eyes, which moved constantly, as if the sorcerer was searching for something.

  What he found was Jaeger standing a safe distance away from Philip, while the Prince eyed himself in the mirror. The muscles in Philip’s stomach tightened as he watched the Court Conjurer look between them, his already thin mouth forming an almost indiscernible line. The expression of discomfort on Orrin’s face lasted for a moment before he finally settled on something Philip imagined was supposed to be perceived as warm and inviting.