Chapter 2
Blinding white portals spiraled around a young man sitting surrounded by a circle of blood and runes.
The young man shuffled, clearly uncomfortable with his position and exhausted from the amount of magic demanded of him. His pale skin glistened with sweat, and his golden curls stuck to his forehead. His breathing was heavy, and his shoulders trembled as he slumped forward, his body barely upright. "Owen!"
Strong hands appeared immediately, lifting the blond from the cold stone floor. The young man was pulled into a firm embrace and pressed against a strong chest. The scent of fresh pine and rain filled his senses, grounding him. A soft, approving chirp escaped his lips as he nuzzled into the offered neck, sharp teeth sinking gently into the skin.
A low rumble of contentment vibrated through the chest he was pressed against, and whispered praise flowed like warm honey into his ears. Owen let him stay for a few more mouthfuls before his large hand tangled in golden curls and gave a gentle, yet firm, tug.
"Enough now," Owen murmured, his voice deep and commanding. "You're being rude, Yanek. Open your pretty eyes and greet the ones that came for you."
Yanek let out a displeased whine but obeyed, blinking his heavy eyelids open. His eyes, sharp and predatory, swept over the gathered figures, focusing on the unfamiliar ones first.
There were strangers in the circle.
Weird.
His eyes narrowed as suspicion crept into his exhausted expression. They shouldn’t be here. The runes should have tampered with the summon of those not beneficial to their circle. There shouldn’t have been anyone he didn’t recognize. Owen and he had been very careful in researching the runes so only their desired intended made it through.
Foreseen was good. Foreseen was reliable.
But strangers? Strangers were a threat.
And Yanek didn’t need any threads at the moment, not when he had worked so hard, and planned so much, to get where he was.
He needed a circle. A well-connected one. One that would allow him to leave his family but gave him enough power to make choices and maintain his goals.
Strangers didn’t exactly fit in his circle.
But nonetheless, he spotted two unfamiliar figures. Yanek twirled one of his golden curls around his finger and decided to focus on the ones he did recognize.
It felt a bit like opening a package of gheyo trading cards. Wishing and praying you got the ones you desired or some of the good ones. The rare ones, the powerful ones.
In this case, he got three of his picks. At first sight, he identify the three pareyas. Good families, great connections, and decent power.
Yanek frowned slightly at the sharp lines of the older noble's face. He didn’t know how to feel about the renowned profile of Lord Belden. While having another high-ranking noble was always useful in a circle, everything else was rather… not .
Lord Belden’s pride, his political entanglements, and his reputation would be a double-edged sword.
Well, they would have to make do.
Yanek's gaze shifted back to Owen, a silent question in his eyes.
Owen caught the look and gave a subtle shake of his head. "I do not know about them," he said, voice low and careful. "They shouldn’t be here at all. And we’re still missing a beta."
Yanek's gaze flickered to the taller of the two strangers, who stood with an air of cold arrogance. His sharp jawline was set in a scowl, and his dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous.
"Not his rank," Yanek murmured, head tilting slightly as he observed. "Might have been at some point, but if he was... it isn’t anymore."
Owen sighed. "Damn. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to hunt for them."
The blond was still eyeing the rather interesting dragel. They seemed to be in one of their halflings forms, not one of the prettiest forms but certainly curious.
Their skin seemed to have a green tinge and the lack of a proper nose showed their heritage as part dragon. Now, the lack of wings betrayed a certain type of dragel.
Merrow.
A fairly recent inherited and vicious at that.
That was okay. Good enough to work with. Even with the headache that would make registering their circle, it should be enough— The prestige of having one of the elusive merrow in their circle.
Yanek filed the information away, his mind already working on how to handle this wildcard.
Distracted by his analysis, Yanek didn’t notice when one of the intended dragged another figure from the ground. It wasn’t until Owen’s voice cut through the silence that he snapped back to attention.
“Oh? Looks like you got a submissive.” Yanek’s head turned sharply, eyes with barely concealed hope and awe locking onto the unconscious boy now cradled in one of the pareya's arms.
The boy was small, fragile-looking, with dark hair and a pale face smudged with dirt and dried blood. His still fragile and new wings trembled faintly, even in unconsciousness.
Yanek’s breath hitched slightly at the sight. A submissive.
Granted it all went to hell when the merrow halfling went feral at the sight of the other submissive.
When Harry woke up, he thought he was in the Hogwarts infirmary.
After a few years at Hogwarts he had grown accustomed to the smell of antiseptic and the feeling of pain or soreness that accompanied it. He had gotten used to probing questions and disappointed sighs and sometimes other persons occupying other beds.
But what he hadn’t gotten used to was the wings.
He was still getting used to those. Just like he had had to get used to everything that involved Hogwarts after spending his lifetime with the Dursleys, he was now getting used to everything Dragel.
His wings twitched behind him as he slowly sat up, and panic settled deep in his chest as fragmented memories started piecing themselves together.
And there was so much to get used to. His only saving grace was Theo. His mind clung to the image of soft brown eyes and gentle hands, of warmth and safety.
Patient, reliable, sweet— oh, so sweet and good to him— “Theo!” Harry’s voice cracked as he stumbled out of the bed, his legs trembling under his weight.
His knees buckled, and pain flared across his body as he crumpled to the floor with a sharp cry. In a few seconds, there were people, winged people, dragels, surrounding him.
Harry’s instincts were screaming at him to get to safety but when he tried. When he summoned his magic to escape, to protect himself, he was cruelly reminded that it was gone. That he was, once again, helpless and weak.
He couldn’t even use Theo’s power. Harry didn’t remember how he’d done it.
Harry, not for the first time, felt utterly alone.
It took one of the pareyas pulling Harry into their lap to calm him down.
A bit. He was still trembling, still stiff as a board, but at least he wasn’t trying to claw his way out of the room anymore.
Yanek crouched nearby, his golden curls catching the light. He tilted his head, observing Harry with sharp eyes. “Harry—”
“How do you know my name?” Bright, almost glowing, green eyes glared untrusting at Yanek. “Who even are you?”
Yanek was rendered speechless at being glanced at by such beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, that meant his new joker had a chance to open his mouth.
"I’m hurt, Harry," Tom, as he had learned was the merrow’s name, drawled, his voice smooth and poisonous. "Do you truly not remember me?"
Harry froze.
His breathing hitched, and the glow in his green eyes dimmed slightly.
Recognition flashed across his face before it was replaced by pure fury.
"Voldemort," Harry hissed, his voice trembling with rage.
Tom smirked, his teeth sharp and gleaming in the dim light.
Yanek groaned and rubbed his temples. This was going downhill fast.
Not for the first time in the short amount that they had known each other Yanek wondered if bonding to Tom had been a good choice. "Stop antagonizing him, Tom," Yanek snapped. "You’re making it worse. And for Arielle’s sake drop that halfing form"
Tom, predictably, ignored Yanek's words. But after a few heartbeats, he did drop his halfing form. Maybe after the healer had explained what he’d found he got some sense into his head. After all, it wouldn’t go well to kill one of the vessels of your soul.
But the damage was done. Harry’s fragile wings were puffed up in an instinctive defensive display, and his trembling form radiated distrust and panic.
“How— Voldemort!” An accusing finger was directed at the mentioned and Yanek internally grimaced at the lack of decorum.
“So you do know him?” Yanek's tone was coaxing, trying to get Harry to open up.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Harry just stood on shaky legs and looked like he was ready to throw himself at an amused Tom.
Yanek signed internally at the mess that had become something supposed to be simple. “Wait! You said Theo right?”
Beautiful peach and silver scales surged at the mention of Theo’s name and now the defensive growl was directed at Yanek. He didn’t let that stop him. If he was right… “Theodore Gorgens, right?”
Distrustful eyes pinned him on the spot. “Nott. Theodore Nott.” It was said so softly he almost didn’t hear it.
“Yes, the same! I was friends with him. When he lived here, in Nevarah, do you know him?”
But it seemed Harry had decided it was more important to continue glaring at Tom. Yanek didn’t give up though, “You were summoned by a soulscream. Do you know what that is?”
At Harry’s shake of head, he continued. “It’s a type of cry submissive dragels, like you and me, can make. It brings all of those souls that are a perfect fit for you to your side.” Yanek might’ve made that description a bit simpler than it really was and excluded a few things but, oh well, what Harry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“It brought you to me. It brought Tom, it brought everyone. Do you understand Harry?”
Harry wouldn’t be so easily persuaded though. “He’s a killer, he’s tried to kill me. He killed my parents! How could that be a perfect fit? Besides, I already have my own alpha! I don’t want anyone else. You said you were friends with Theo, do you know where he is?”
Yanek shared a look with Owen and they both reached an agreement. They would try to contact Theodore… just not yet.
And so Yanek, along with a snarky Tom, launched themselves into a long explanation of everything that Harry had missed. Starting with the results of the diagnosis a healer had performed. They explained the seals they had found in both Harry and Tom, how it was the cause of Harry’s missing magic, and how it had made Tom crazy.
How, according to the same Tom, Harry destroying some kind of diary had given him the chance to inherit since it contained a part of himself that was young enough to be able to do so. Yanek explained what it meant to have a circle and what was Neverah.
At the end of it, Harry was still refusing to even glance at Tom. After that Yanek had sent everyone else out to discuss with Harry what he wanted to do. He had spent some time reassuring Harry that he could stay with them while they looked for Theo. And now he was answering any questions he had.
“Do I really need to do social games and stuff? Theo said there were formalities and etiquette and Terius forgave me but I don’t want to do all that, why can’t I just be Harry?”
Yanek had also explained to him what it meant to have a soul bond and be bonded. But he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, not when it was practically delivered on a silver platter. “I’ll take it all for you. If you bond to me, if we merge our circles, and follow the soul bond. You can take Lyte submissive, you won’t be expected to do those things that way.”
“But I don’t want to make you do it either. Isn’t there anothe—“
Yanek was quick to cut him off. He didn’t need Harry second-guessing everything, not after all his effort to earn an ounce of his trust. “Don’t worry about that Harry. I was raised as a dragel I truly don’t mind doing it”
“Really? Can- can I talk to Theo first?” No . If Harry managed to talk to Theo he surely would reaffirm Harry’s thinking, that there was another way of doing things. That a soul bond could be sealed and ignored. Well, it’s not like Yanek and Harry had a soul bond either way, but Harry didn’t need to know that.
So instead Yanek forced himself to smile and say, “Sure. But in the meantime, since we don’t have a way to contact him, we could exchange intended marks. Nothing definitive like the pretty one you have on your neck but enough to satisfy our soul bond.”
“Can we just wait for Theo?” Again with Theo. No, they couldn’t wait because if they did it wouldn’t happen. After all, Theo wasn’t a newly inherited, un-mentored, uninformed, and naive submissive.
“Can't you feel it pulling Harry? The longer it goes open the more it will hurt” The blond made his face twist into a painful grimace and even let out a whimper, for more effect.
“Does it really hurt that much?” Harry’s face was twisted in confusion and guilt. Yanek could practically smell his victory. Oh, how sweet was Harry, sacrificing himself for others.
Exactly like Tom had said.
“Please Harry”
“O-okay,” Harry said hesitantly.
Yanek murmured in gratitude and quickly invaded Harry’s space. His movements were quick, to not give Harry a chance to back out of it. Once he managed to take a look into the soft skin of Harry’s neck the urge to dig his fangs right onto Theodore’s mark was strong. Really strong and full of petty but he contained himself and did it a bit lower.
He watched in satisfaction as two circles, one inside the other, the courting mark that declared them a Submissive-Submissive pair bloomed on Harry’s skin.
Theodore Grogens, checkmate.
“Are you satisfied?” Owen looked at his submissive with an indulgent smile.
Long lashes fluttered coyly followed by a smile with too many fangs. “Delighted.”
Owen chuckled at his shameless bonded cradling a smaller body against him. “Weren’t submissives supposed to be a bit more hostile to others of their rank?”
Yanek smirked, fully aware of being baited but not caring at the moment, too high with the post-marking and having managed to actually do it. “Luckily for us, I never had a submissive instinct in my life.”
“Oh? Guaranteed rank?” Owen twisted his face in mocking surprise like he hadn’t been looking for that answer in the first place. “Why did— ”
“Doesn’t matter now. It all worked out. ” Yanek cut rather sharply. He had started running his fingers through the other submissive’s hair, almost obsessively, before gently putting Tom’s delicate diadem on Harry’s head. “I even get to have my very own submissive now.” Yanek's grin was sharp and dangerous.
But Owen delighted in making the composed submissive crack his facade. So he shook his head with a belittling smile. And spoke nothing but the painful truth. “Ah, but he’s not yours isn’t he?”
Yanek hissed at him. He wouldn’t let anything take Harry from him. Not after having given up on having a submissive because he needed to be one. Not after having a taste of what could be like. Nay . “He was summoned by my soulscream , he’s mine. He wears my mark on his neck. Mine . Regardless of everything else.”
“So you want him?” The submissive ignored him in favor of observing the pretty boy who was sleeping in his lap. “He might be more trouble than he’s worth”
“We shall see.”