55. New Beginnings
“ B rother!”
Adrian pulled the sword he’d taken from a fallen soldier from the flank of an elf. Kneeling, he ripped the sleeve of his shirt to press to the injury. Looking into the startling and stunned green eyes before him, he pressed the elf’s hand under his own, and said, “Hold pressure to slow the bleeding. Medical staff are collecting the wounded. We’ll get you treatment.”
The confused elf did a slow blink, so Adrian explained again. When he was sure the male could be left alone, he stood to face his brother.
“What’s needed?” Dimitri asked.
“The front’s being overrun with more fucking wolves.”
Dimitri gave a short nod and then looked at the elf going into shock. “What’s with the tender-hearted approach?”
Adrian sighed at more criticism. “I don’t want a massacre. If you are truly on my side, take your unit to the wall. We need to retake that point of entry for our reinforcements to make it through. ”
Dimitri stepped forward to clap a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “I’m with you, little brother. I’ve given you a lot of shit, done some unforgivable things through the years, and I’m sorry. I’m with you.”
“We can kiss and make up later. Get your ass moving.”
After a short nod and shouted orders to his unit, Dimitri joined the fray. Adrian followed, keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t turn traitor, which he wouldn’t put past him.
To his surprise, Dimitri and his men did exactly as promised, cutting down wolves pouring through the main entry—another fresh pack joining the battle with teeth snarling and claws extended. It reinvigorated the tiring wolf warriors already fighting.
Like his brother, Adrian slashed and maimed as many of the massive beasts as he could, aiming to incapacitate, which was hard in the heat of the moment. He met up with General Kent, also fighting in the area, and received word that a noble House had arrived.
Two colonels had fallen, so General Kent led those troops as well as his own, and they fought together, eventually making it to the front lawn. The sight of all the dead and wounded was shocking, as was the section of wall where elves rained fire down on the arriving reinforcements from the city.
Sweat poured and his muscles ached as he fought his way forward.
The battle raged. The wolves took control of areas, and the vampires retained hold on others. The entry hall eventually collapsed and had to be abandoned. By that time, a medical area in the ballroom had been set up by Adrian and many of the wounded were taken there, though some were buried in the fall. The dead would be dug out later.
At the end of an endless three days, everyone was exhausted. Adrian met with the alphas to negotiate a respite. They agreed on a twelve-hour stay on fighting. During that time, Adrian sent provisions to the conservatory, which he’d given to them for rest. He sent them food—raw meat, bread and cheese, fruit and vegetables, and barrels of water.
Word from Tristan, now a messenger and somewhat of a spy, said the wolves were disgruntled. They didn’t like Adrian pulling punches, as they put it. They didn’t like the mercy. Adrian was giving medical care to everybody regardless of race—elf, wolf, vampire, or human. The alphas, on the other hand, were taking no prisoners.
They thought he was trying to undermine their forces. And while that hadn’t been his intention, it was a nice by-product. Their wolves were confused by his tactics and unsure of his motives.
The elves, too, were conflicted. Many left Neigera to head home to Constalaysia. Others stayed to nurse the wounded.
Adrian was thankful the elves were retreating. Their magic was wicked, and though currently exhausted as they all were, with enough rest they’d recharge. Fighting them again was not something he would ever look forward to. Even those without magic were formidable and well-trained.
The wolves were a different kind of brutal, as shown in all the bodies lined up on the lawn awaiting burial. So many of them were vampires. He had people working to identify the dead and get letters sent to families. The elves preserved their kind with magic for the trip home, and the wolves claimed their pack mates.
Adrian stood looking over them all. It was his luck that their rest occurred during daylight hours. That meant when the fighting began again, his troops would be at their strongest .
It meant he was standing in the sun, but there was little burn. Even if it had been midday, he didn’t think he’d feel it. His face throbbed and continued to ooze where he’d been cut down the left side by a werewolf claw. He had multiple stinging cuts and aching bruises and the burn on his leg had blistered. He was physically and emotionally exhausted.
But he would endure worse to secure his kingdom.
Though he hoped to compromise and end this fight.
Turning to Timothy and Horace, always by his side, he said, “Fetch Tristan and have him set up another meeting with the alphas.”
Within the hour, the huge brutes strode into the throne room where Adrian rested. Sipping a bland cup of blood, Adrian stood staring at the portrait of his grandfather which hung beside one of his father. Leaving behind thoughts of how he wanted to be different, he set his cup down and turned to the naked werewolves.
He’d sent trunks of clothing, but the heathens would rather walk around in nothing. It was a tactic to put his vampires on edge, but they could have at least shown some civility for this meeting.
He supposed he should have expected nothing else.
“Alphas,” Adrian greeted. His unit of personal guards, most wounded in some way, surrounded him as he walked to where the males had stopped among his soldiers. At the heavy and threatening pressure of the powerful werewolves, some of them woke up .
“Forfeit,” Alpha Benji commanded in his deep voice, his dark skin bristling as he eyed all the vampires camped out.
“No,” Adrian replied calmly. “I will not surrender my kingdom to you. You will do worse than I, lost in hate as you are.” He took in each of the big males, ignoring the threatening growling from two of them.
“My troops can continue this as long as you,” Adrian went on. “And we outnumber you.”
Aldric scoffed. “We hold half this palace.”
“Reinforcements are coming,” Adrian replied coolly. “This is my kingdom, don’t forget. The call went out more than two days ago. Reserves arrive every day from my nobles’ militias and more across my kingdom will come in aid to their King.
“What have you? Your elf allies are depleted of magic, spent, and wounded as you are. Many have left. Your wolves are badly injured and tired. You have nothing in the way of fresh warriors arriving or they’d be pouring in.”
Adrian took another step, eliciting more growls from the wolves whose expressions remained dark, telling him he’d struck a nerve. “Admit defeat, and you may go.”
Aldric laughed. “And go back to oppression? I think not, arsehole.”
“I am not my father,” Adrian said levelly.
Alpha Benji stepped forward. “What motherfucker’s going to step up next to control your puppet strings?”
“I am not the male I was three days ago, or even yesterday.”
“Feckin’ right,” Aldric said. “You’re even more the gombeen.”
Adrian sighed. “Look, I want to survive. I want to win. I am willing to continue this fight as long as that takes. But I am also willing to compromise.”
“Like you did with me?” Aldric countered. “Lyin’ sack o’ shite.” He looked Adrian up and down before spitting at his feet.
“I told you then that convincing my father would not be easy. You knew how he felt about you. You all knew.”
“You stood with him. You lied to me fecking face and went back on your word as soon as you were safe at home.”
Adrian clenched his jaw and did his best to tame his temper, which was short. “I didn’t have many options, Aldric. Rose tried to get me to see.” Eyes darkened as growling filled the room again. The alphas all had loyalty for the Elfin Princess, Adrian knew, and they knew how Aldric felt about her. “My father used her as a means to control me. I was weak, yes, and blinded by my love for her. She—”
“She’s gone. Feckin’ move on.”
“Then let’s move on,” Adrian agreed, seemingly unfazed by Aldric’s harsh words, though he was far from it. “Are we going to work together to compromise or continue to fight until you lose?”
They talked.
After the twelve-hour stay of rest, during which Adrian provided more food and fresh water and had more trunks of clothing and medical supplies made available, he, his brother, and two of his generals met with the alphas. They debated in the conference room for over fourteen hours before breaking and returning for another session ten hours later.
It took another two days to come to an agreement—a very lengthy agreement Adrian had three lawyers look over. It went through several revisions—during which many of the alphas left for home with their warriors, happy with the progress and trusting the Alphas Aldric and Benji to see to the rest—before Adrian signed it into law.
During those negotiations, unrest spread through the capital. Some praised Adrian’s efforts for peace and equality. Others, the late King Florian’s strongest supporters, revolted. Several noble families, who’d sent aid during the Werewolf Uprising, turned their militias to oppose him.
There was rioting and fighting in the streets. It was chaos for several weeks.
Eventually, the dissenters were arrested, stood trial, and sentenced. Nobles were stripped of titles and their lands were taken away. Count Mayweather, head of the revolt, was hung for attempting to assassinate Adrian. Two others were also publicly executed for helping Mayweather. More were imprisoned.
All through the chaotic weeks, Duke Clearwater sat in prison. When it was time for his trial, Adrian longed to behead him with a broadsword for attempting to murder Rose during the masquerade.
Instead, he listened to the Duke repent. Clenching his teeth as he gripped the arm of his throne so hard his knuckles hurt, anger pumped in his veins. He wanted retribution. He wanted vengeance.
Horace still bore the scar from the arrow he’d taken to the neck.
Do not be like your father, Adrian , Rose’s voice bid him . Be the mate I fell in love with and heal this kingdom. Set them free as you did me.
He demoted Clearwater to Marquis and took away a quarter of his lands.
Julianna cried with relief and gratitude.
Lionel shook his hand with respect.
The new Marquis and Marchioness sobbed as they held each other tight.
And then Clearwater knelt before him and pledged undying allegiance.
Adrian didn’t recognize himself .
He felt like the city—in shambles, parts of him in ruin and in desperate need of fixing that would never come.
But Crimson City could be repaired by tradesmen it took little time to hire. The army of them were several months in when Adrian—now known as the Scarred King because of the horrid mark on his face—caused another uproar when he put an end to slavery.
It started a civil war that lasted more than three years.
In all that time, Adrian mourned. He mourned his father, whom he missed despite all his flaws. He missed his mother (though not her nagging), who’d been killed by the palace slaves in the early days of the Slave War. He missed how easy his life had been before the weight of his crown fully settled on him.
And he missed Rose. He missed the exciting nights and quiet days with her, the glow of her happiness, and the way her pink eyes would shine when she smiled at him. He longed for her, more with each passing day, and mourned the piece of himself she’d always carry with her.
He was doing what he thought best, though it was causing complete upheaval in his kingdom, and wondered if it would be worth it. Even once the wealthy slave owners were done fighting his new laws, there was a great need for restructuring. He had a vision of what things could be and wanted to see it reach fruition.
He had Benny, Silas, and Andrew beside him for all of it. They were the core of his support. He’d begun laying the foundation during a secret meeting before Rose had left, where he’d hoped to sway the minds of his friends and begin the process of undermining his father. They were now fully behind him and often picked him up when he felt hopeless.
Even with everything else going on, he worked to improve relations with the races his father had always looked down upon. He wanted to strengthen the ties within and throughout his kingdom so his people knew how to work together. Even as those who tried to hold onto the old traditions fought him, he worked to change it.
It was a slow battle on all sides, but he pressed on.
Dimitri, now one of his most trusted advisors, couldn’t fully understand his ideas. But he was beginning to see it and was supportive. Adrian appreciated him like never before, especially his efforts in reaching a trade agreement with Constalaysia, who refused any direct contact with Neigera.
His brother was still trying to make reparations. Adrian would take it. Though their relationship was stronger than it had ever been, Adrian harbored a smidgeon of resentment. He tried not to let it fester. For the majority of their lives, they’d been pitted against each other. They each held blame.
It was time to move on now, time to move forward.
Adrian wondered if Rose—Princess Ambrosia—knew how he was moving forward with his kingdom. He wondered what she was doing, how she was doing, if she missed him, or ever thought of him as he did her.
Which was all the damn time.
He supposed it didn’t much matter. With all his efforts toward the elves thwarted, he feared it never would. The Mists had fallen little more than a year after the Lost Princess was rescued and returned home, but the elves still limited contact with Neigera.
Adrian didn’t blame them. His father had burned that bridge in flaming glory and Adrian wouldn’t trust himself either.
But he longed for that to change.
He was working so hard for it.