Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

The Leader's True Power (18+)

Alvarr did feel the leader's compulsion at his command to stay still. It rolled off him like mist, but he still obeyed Laren. He trusted the leader, and he also wanted to know what Laren's power would reveal. No matter what the leader thought of the him, Laren would tell him the truth.

So Alvarr stood, legs slightly splayed out, while Laren brought his nose very close to his own, careful to avoid the mage's horn. The gray horse's nostrils flared, and his mouth opened slightly. Though his expression remained businesslike, the energy in the leader's body flared as he took in Alvarr's scent.

A small ripple of alarm ran through the mage. What did he find? Alvarr did not dare ask. Laren would tell him when the time was right. Prickles traveled from the mage's head and spread to his coat at Laren's sheer closeness. Alvarr wanted to fidget as his leader brought his nose down to the mage's neck and chest.

"You're the color of some of those strange rocks found in the mountains," Laren murmured.

What did that mean? Was the leader simply making an observation? Or was he implying that Alvarr himself was strange? Laren didn't say things for no reason. "M-many mages are," Alvarr managed to reply.

Laren paused, seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment. Then, he nodded. "It has been said that all mages descend from a single mare."

Alvarr's breath stuttered so loudly the leader could surely hear it. Does he know about the mad mare-mage? By mentioning the strange red rocks, Laren had as good as told him he'd been to the mountains. Perhaps he'd seen the cave, too, with its terrible scene.

"I don't-"

"They say that magic was her gift to her children," the leader went on. Laren's golden energy surged again. It snapped off the great gray body like and jumped onto the mage's skin.

"It's just a story," Alvarr said weakly. How I want to believe that, he thought, but he had seen the Elder's book.

"There is truth to every legend," Laren said, looking down at the mage from his height.

"If that's true, then where does the leader's power come from?" Alvarr didn't believe he had dared to ask that, but it was an honest question.

Laren looked away for a moment. "Her mate."

Their eyes met, human to equine. He knows. About everything. He's seen the cave, and knows that the mare and her stallion were true mates. And that the mage went mad and killed so many...

But Laren showed no sign of fear. The big gray equine shook himself all over and changed into man-shape, bare and muscular in the glow of Alvarr's horn.

"I need to use my hands," Laren said, a little roughly. He placed both his large, warm hands on Alvarr's chest, just below his neck, and stroked them down lightly.

Alvarr shuddered. Everywhere Laren touched made that strange, familiar warmth trail through his body. It reached into the very heart of him. Is this my imagination, or Laren's power?

A rush of sparks gathered along his underside, and his stomach became tight. The mage shifted his hooves on the ground. Even though his leader was in man-shape, his intense presence was like the warmth of the sun after snowfall. Alvarr felt excited, yet calm. He wanted to jump out of his skin, yet stand still so he could receive more of Laren's hands on him.

I think it is the true power of the leader. Though Laren was much smaller in this shape, the mage still found his presence just as large. If the story was true, the leader of the mare-mage would have to be powerful indeed to match her. Alvarr could easily believe that if he was a descendent of the mare-mage, Laren was a descendent of her mate.