Chapter 27
ALEK
Aknot was growing in my stomach.
I wasn’t exactly ready to see my father. Last time I was face to face with him, he was bending me to his will, ripping my flesh apart, drowning me in pain, and demanding I fucking thank him for it.
The anger swelling in my veins was enough for me to scream, but at the same time, this could be it. This could be a win. The moment Feloré, and quite possibly me, were set free.
A knock on the door.
All is well, my lovely human. I offered Feloré a nod, which he returned. I won’t let anything happen to you.
Steeling myself with a breath, I tugged open my door, and there he was.
My father, the pinnacle of elegance, stood draped in robes of ebony silk, his white gold crown encircling his head and soft hair spilling down his shoulders like someone had spent an hour sitting on his lap this morning, their only job to brush it while he fed.
That was exactly how he started his day.
I couldn’t describe how it felt to see him. Bittersweet, I supposed. Like seeing the beauty of a sunset knowing it promised the hostile cold of night.
“Alekus,” he said, something about it especially severe, the same as his gaze. “How do you do, son?”
How did I do? I was locked in my fucking room, a prisoner of his brutality, tortured by my desire to consume the very human I was determined to save.
“Oh, never better, Father,” I said. “Thank you for asking.”
“Excellent. And your wild boar injury?” He lifted his eyebrows, but hardly any skin wrinkled. He didn’t look that much older than me in my current condition. “How is that faring?”
I kept my expression as nonreactive as possible. “I don’t know if your lackey told you, but it is restored. Entirely healed thanks to the generous aid of the human you’ve supplied. I suppose he did come in handy.”
“Mmhm. Yes, I heard he bled for you while quite aroused.” His nose crinkled and his voice dropped in disappointment as he said, “And that you did nothing in return.”
My brows drew together. “What would you have me do?”
“Oh, I don’t know, son.” He shrugged, flitting a hand about. “Put your mouth on his body. Make him put his mouth on yours. Anything, really.”
“I am so sorry to disappoint you, my king—”
“Are you?”
“—but if you’ll recall, I expressed my firm disinterest in this human. I told you this was not the one.”
He nodded, something about his smile so unnaturally labored as he beckoned two fingers over his shoulder. “How could I forget?”
My gaze zipped to the guards when they suddenly marched a synchronized step forward.
“The body wants what the body wants.”
I hadn’t noticed him before, but hidden by the bulk of the guards was Lucc, looking…troubled. More so than usual.
I searched his eyes, but he just stared helplessly, like there was something he was dying to say and couldn’t.
On my father’s command, the four guards stepped into a protective circle of bodies around him. Then they marched forward, barging into my room, forcing me to stumble out of the way.
“I hope you don’t mind, Alek,” my father said, cutting his gaze to me as he trailed them. “I need a word with your generous guest.”
My eyes narrowed. It felt like my heart was narrowing. I didn’t know why, but something about this wasn’t right. Didn’t look right. Didn’t feel right.
If I knew him at all, he was so obviously playing a game.
The guards froze once inside my room, the same as my father. They were all stunned still for a moment in time as they gaped at Feloré, where he stood with arms folded, an icy glare for each of them.
“Oh, my goodness,” my father breathed, gesturing to his soldiers to pin themselves against the wall, which they did in uniformity. “Well, look at you.”
Feloré glanced at me as my father continued into the room, something like awe in his expression. I’d never seen him at such a loss for words as he began to circle Feloré’s body, observing him at every angle like he was a prized lamb.
“What a week’s worth of food has done for you, boy.” He stopped in front of him to grip his chin, lifting it. “It’s positively astounding.”
My gaze zeroed in on his hand where it touched my human. I wanted to fucking break it.
“It’s so good, in fact,” he continued, dropping his hand away. “That I won’t even punish you for failing to kneel.”
Feloré looked to me again, and I wished I could stop it, but I couldn’t. My nostrils flared as he lowered all the way down to one knee, the chain spilling over his shoulder as he bowed his head.
My father suddenly halted, his gaze drifting around my room like he was just noticing its condition. He observed the cards spilled over the desk, the half-downed sparkling wine flutes, the clothes scattered everywhere, and the bed a mess.
“My heavens, Alek,” he said, cocking his head. “Well, have you been enjoying yourself?”
I was at an impasse. Telling him that yes, indeed I had, that I’d never enjoyed myself more, felt like showing a weakness he could exploit. On the other hand, telling him I cared nothing about Feloré also felt treacherous.
“I find enjoyment in all kinds of things, Father. I miss when I could pass my time somewhere other than my chambers, but I’ve not denied myself simple pleasures because of your constraints.”
“Simple pleasures…” He trailed off as he plucked a wine flute from the desk, twisting it around to examine it. “Would you say you’ve formed a bond with this whore?”
Something about the question turned my stomach, but I maintained an air of calm.
“A friendship?”
I shrugged. “To my shock, I’ve found it’s not so different than speaking to a vultus. Almost like they have a similarly sized brain in their head. It is you I have to thank for that new perspective, Father.”
He didn’t like that answer. It was why he scowled. “You realize we are not aligned in seeking companionship with them, yes? Just like we do not hand them our trust.”
“We don’t? Surely, there has to be some trust for us to put our cocks in their mouths, Father.” I winced. “What of the teeth?”
“Be serious, Alek. For once in your heedless life, I’m begging you.” He jammed a finger toward Feloré. “He is food. No different from a peach or a pudding or a roasted fucking duck. You don’t ‘enjoy the company’ of the meat on your plate. You eat it.”
Rage seethed through me.
I didn’t even look at Feloré, where he still knelt on the floor, head lowered, heart racing. If I looked at him, then it would dignify what he’d said, and fuck that.
Fuck that with every drop of my fucking blood. That was what I was working toward. That was the driving purpose of my hunger, my pain, and my goddamn revolution.
I would dismantle it one brick at a time, but this was not the place to start. My father was never going to change, which was precisely why he didn’t deserve my temper. What he deserved was to be proven wrong. He would see, because one day I would force him.
Until then, I would drive him to madness.
“A peach, you say? A duck?” I squinted as I stroked my chin. “None of those quite fit. Why, I would say he’s more of a fox than anything.”
The chain jangled as Feloré lifted his gaze.
“I’ve never heard of anyone eating a fox, Father. Have you?” I dipped my head to one side. “I mean, correct me if I’m wrong. But it seems like fox meat would taste too wild. Too… tough.”
My father scowled, dragging a hand down his face, and I took the opportunity to wink at Feloré. A light sparkled in his eye.
“Now, please do as I ask,” I continued. “Release this human and find me someone else.”
My father’s exhale was slow. “You don’t want this one?”
I shook my head. “This is not the one.”
“Very well,” my father said, tipping his chin at Feloré. “Rise, boy.”
Feloré eyed him, then me as he pushed himself up.
From the pocket of his robe, my father fished out a silver key. He twisted Feloré around by his shoulders and inserted it into the lock on his collar. I held my breath, waiting for some caveat, but then it clicked.
The collar popped open, and I wanted to sigh in relief.
Feloré’s fingers were shaky as he touched them to the reddened ring of scathed skin around his neck, but he was free of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was it? He was releasing us?
“Thank you, Father,” I said, offering him a bow of my head as he tossed the collar onto the floor. “I know this is not easy for you, but I do appreciate your honoring my wishes.”
My father blinked for a long moment. Then he said, almost pitying, “Oh, Alek.”
I froze, searching his gaze.
“That is what you think I’m doing, son? You think I’m honoring your asinine wishes?”
A hard lump formed in my throat.
“I cannot imagine a more foolish thing,” he said.
My blood ran cold when he took Feloré’s elbow, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe.
“Um,” I said, struggling to tamp down the fear in my voice. “So, where are you taking him?”
“What do you care? It’s not as if it concerns you.”
Panic swallowed me.
“Nothing outside this room concerns you,” my father said, hauling Feloré toward the door. “Which is why you will remain here. Come, boy.”
“What?” I asked, eyes huge. “What do you mean I will remain here?”
“I do not know how to explain it any better.”
“How does that make any fucking sense?” I asked, trailing after them. “I should be meeting with the clergy, finding a different human to be my first—”
“The clergy has done all they can do for you, son.” My father said, motioning to his guards. “Indulged you until you’ve grown delusions as tall as sunflowers. But we’ve all indulged you.”
My insides felt like they were being ripped apart. For once, I was at a true loss as I blinked at Feloré, his blue eyes wild with fear. “Wait.”
“Oh, I hate to disappoint, but we must be off,” he said, tugging him forward. “Time is of the—”
“I need to pray.”
My father halted, hesitating to take another step. But then he continued forward.
“To pray, Father,” I nearly yelled. “You cannot deny me that. Let me visit the Hacerium tree. Let me worship at its roots.”
He swiveled around with a stony glower on his face. Likely because he knew he’d been outplayed.
If a vultus asked to worship at the roots of the tree—even if they were a prisoner—it was in bad form to deny it, and he was nothing if not beholden to our sacred culture.
“You have a sudden interest in prayer, do you?” he asked, annoyed.
I had a sudden interest in finding out where he was taking my fucking Snow Fox. “One is not in control when they feel called to worship.”
He rolled his head, cracking his neck as he mumbled curse words under his breath. It was with a heavy sigh that he said, “Fine. But you are sick, and you are weak, Alek. I do not suggest trying to outrun my guards, who will be accompanying you, of course.”
“So long as they give me peace to pray,” I said, shrugging. “That is all I ask.”
My father didn’t say another word, but the hand he placed on the small of Feloré’s back as he led him forward made my jaw tighten.
Feloré twisted to me once more, holding my gaze as my father escorted him out the door.
Do not worry. I tried to project my thoughts into him, but he was too far to hear them. I coughed into my hand, ignoring the pain as I pushed harder. No harm will come to you. I promise.
If he heard it, there was no recognition in his blue eyes. Only fright.
Maybe it was for the best that he couldn’t hear me. It was a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, blinking at the empty doorway, racking my brain for what he could be up to, such that I barely noticed Lucc calling my name until he tapped my shoulder.
“Prince,” he said. “Prince, Alek. Your Grace.”
I finally turned to him.
“Is there anything you need me to do?” he asked slowly, the intention behind his words clear. “Anything at all?”
Four sovereign guards stood pinned to the walls, their expressions blank as they awaited command.
“Yes, Attendant,” I said, injecting a confidence I didn’t feel into my voice. “I’ll need my crown. Fetch it for me.”
“As you wish,” Lucc said, rushing to the armoire where he slid open the drawer and retrieved it.
It was tradition for an attendant to secure the crown upon their monarch’s head. I stood before the mirror as he approached from behind.
Get me Amara, I projected inside his skull as hard as I could, holding his gaze in the mirror. Now.
“Oh dear, would you look at that?” he asked, lifting the crown from my head to inspect it. “It’s awfully smudged, isn’t it? Would you mind if I took this to get polished? I have something downstairs that should shine it right up.”
I gave him a nod, subtle and seamless. “Very well.”
He bowed his head, hurrying out the door.
I adjusted my cuffs in the mirror, vamping at my reflection, stalling for time as he likely sprinted down the hallway, slipped out the service door, and hopefully ran to the knights’ cottages across the orchard. After a moment, I cleared my throat and asked, “Which one of you is in charge?”
One of them stepped forward, his voice strong and militant as he said, “That would be me, Your Grace.”
“Did I or did I not say I was called to prayer?”
He looked a bit confused. “Yes, Your Grace. You did.”
“Then why are you still standing there?” I flung a hand toward the door. “Lead the fucking way.”