13. Chapter 13 #2
The meeting room fell silent the moment Tarymn stepped through the door.
He’d timed his entrance just right, arriving late just to savor the bastards’ reactions.
As expected, the three alphas fixed him with unwelcoming stares, like he was some outsider trespassing in their territory, someone who didn’t belong.
Tarymn swallowed the growl burning in his throat, locking his jaw as he turned to Maxus. He gave him a short, respectful bow before striding toward his chair.
“Let’s continue,” Maxus commanded. “We have a lot of decisions to make.”
Tarymn barely heard a word of it. His attention wasn’t on the council’s droning voices but on keeping himself from snapping.
Every time Pharyi or one of his cronies opened their mouths, his wolf bristled, the itch beneath his skin worsening until it felt like fire crawling through his veins.
Their scents were suffocating, acrid and offensive, carrying across the room and clawing at him.
His nails dug into his thighs under the table as the urge to lunge across the room became unbearable.
Just hold on , he told himself, jaw aching from how hard he clenched it.
When the meeting finally adjourned, a rush of relief tore through him. He was on his feet and out the door in seconds, greedily dragging in the cleaner air of the hallway. But before he could escape, Maxus’ voice cut through behind him.
“Let’s talk.”
The alpha didn’t wait for an answer, already striding down the hall. Toward Deltta’s old office.
Tarymn’s stomach knotted as he sighed and followed him.
His gaze swept across the room as soon as he entered.
Everything was still the same. Deltta’s books were lined neatly on the shelves, the heavy metal desk untouched, even the faint scent of the alpha lingered in the air.
Maxus hadn’t changed a thing, as if he were only a guest passing through.
“You’re back,” Maxus said, the relief in his voice unmistakable.
“You made sure I came back, you sent Sirhe,” Tarymn replied.
Maxus chuckled, humorlessly. “I didn’t think he’d actually convince you. But I’m glad he did.”
So was Tarymn. That single hour in the company of those bastards had been enough to show him just how close he’d come to making the biggest mistake of his life by walking away.
“How are you planning to bring them down?” Maxus asked, leaning forward slightly, his question hanging between them.
“I don’t know yet,” Tarymn admitted, rubbing at the tension coiling in his neck.
“But whatever I do, it has to be quiet. If they even suspect we’re moving against them, they’ll retaliate and none of us can afford that.
The best thing for now is to lay low, keep our heads down, and pretend nothing’s happened.
“Fuck.” Maxus’ jaw tightened, but after a beat he gave a short, reluctant nod. “Okay.”
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to work,” Tarymn said.
“Okay.”
Tarymn gave a slight nod and walked out of the office, his boots tapping steadily against the floor as he made his way down the hall.
The air was subdued, filled with hushed voices and quick glances, as if everyone was waiting for something to go off.
Their unease was clear, and he couldn’t fault them.
Even he didn’t know exactly how they were supposed to get back to normal, but somehow, they would.
They had to, Tarymn thought as he stepped into his office.
He paused when he spotted Langley standing in front of the wide window, shoulders hunched. Tarymn’s gaze immediately swept the desk, checking for anything he might have left exposed. There was nothing.
“What are you doing in here?” He asked as he shut the door with a sharp click.
Langley turned, and for the first time, Tarymn saw the man stripped of his usual sneer. His face was drawn, pallid, eyes rimmed with exhaustion and fear.
“Do you think Deltta will come back?” The question tumbled out of him, startling him.
Tarymn stilled, then arched a brow. “Why do you care?” He crossed the room, taking his seat behind the desk. “You hated him. Hated me. The second he became Alpha King, you made my life a living hell. Don’t pretend now. I’d bet you’re thrilled things turned out this way.”
“I’m not.” Langley’s hands twisted together, wringing with nervous energy. “This…this is the last thing I wanted. I may have despised you both for acting like you owned the planet. You were already born into power, born into wealth. Did you have to take the council too?”
Tarymn narrowed his eyes. So that was it? Petty resentment? Pathetic . “I don’t have time for your bullshit. Get out.”
But Langley didn’t leave. He pressed on. “What’s going to happen to Pharyi, Biwen, and Gyry?”
The words froze Tarymn mid-breath. His head lifted slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I might not be as brilliant as you, but I’m not blind.” Langley’s voice rose with every word. “The financial records don’t add up. And when Deltta refused to approve more payments, I knew something was wrong. And since Pharyi…"
“Shhh.” Tarymn shot to his feet and was in front of Langley in seconds.
He cast a wary glance toward the door. “Keep it down.” He leaned in, close enough that his scent wrapped around Langley like a chokehold.
“You will keep your mouth shut as you’ve been doing.
You’ll act like you know nothing. Maxus and I will handle the rest.”
“I—”
“Not. A. Word.” Tarymn’s growl rumbled through the air, heavy with dominance.
Langley squealed. Only then did Tarymn notice his own scent flooding the room—dense, suffocating, dominant. Langley’s eyes darted to the door, wide and panicked.
“Okay,” he stammered, sidling away from Tarymn. “I won’t say a word.”
“Good,” Tarymn said. “Get back to work.”
Langley bobbed his head furiously before fleeing the room.
Tarymn stood still, pulse hammering in his ears, praying the fear he’d put into Langley’s would be enough to seal his lips. If not, he'd never catch Pharyi and his cronies.
He pulled out his connector and pressed in Pitra’s code. “Where the hell are you? We’ve got work to do,” he barked as soon as Pitra answered.
“I’m coming…I’m coming,” came the breathless reply. A moment later, the door slid open and Pitra stepped inside, a bag of food dangling from his hand. “I went to buy you lunch,” he said, a sheepish grin flickering across his face. “So… how did it go?”
“I think it went well. No one got hurt, so…” Tarymn trailed off, not ready to admit how close he’d come to losing control.
“That’s good,” Pitra said, setting the food down on the desk. “Now we can focus on what really matters.”
Tarymn gave a single, firm nod. “Let’s get to work.”
The chaos inside the council office was almost a relief.
It left Tarymn with no space to think about anything else, just endless tasks and fires to put out until he collapsed into bed from sheer exhaustion.
On most nights, even sleep was a luxury.
He and the others stayed up buried in paperwork, trying to hold the planet together to bother with sleep.
Eventually, Tarymn stopped going home altogether.
His office couch had become his bed. It was easier that way.
Going home only reminded him of everything he was avoiding—Ludiin.
He couldn’t juggle his work and the mess between them.
He had to pick one battle to fight. Within the council walls, battles raged.
Long, heated debates stretched into the night, everyone arguing over the best course of action.
Sometimes it felt endless, like they were circling the same problem again and again.
And Tarymn often wondered if the first alphas, those who had built the council a hundred years ago, had felt this same exhaustion. Did they fight like this, too?
Maybe.
The door to his office creaked open, snapping him from his thoughts.
Pitra stepped inside with neatly folded clothes draped over his arm.
“I have your clothes and food,” he said, setting the clothes carefully on the couch and his food on the desk.
“And I’ve made arrangements with Femi for your heat. ”
Tarymn blinked, the words not quite sinking in. “What?”
“Your heat,” Pitra repeated, his brow furrowing in disbelief. “It’s coming in a few days. Did you forget?”
Shit .
Now ?
“Fuck,” Tarymn muttered, his eyes dropping to the stack of documents on his desk.
He didn’t have time for this. Not now.
His eyes skimmed over the draft of the new law the council was preparing to enforce, every word depressing.
He’d searched for cracks, for hidden threats that could turn the people against them, but the document was airtight.
On the surface, it looked like they were giving the people exactly what they demanded: pulling omegas out of public spaces and medicating aggressive alphas into compliance. But it reeked of control.
“How can you forget your heat?” Pitra asked.
“I have too much work to do,” Tarymn snapped. “My heat is the last thing on my mind. It’s a fucking inconvenience.” And he didn't feel like fucking anyone.
“Are you okay with Femi?”
Fuck.
“As long as he’s fine with it. I’m fine,” Tarymn said, distracted, the words slipping out automatically as he checked the time.
“Shit. I’ve got a meeting with Maxus.” Rising abruptly, he shoved his chair back, then paused, before glancing at Pitra.
“Find me a room somewhere. I don’t want to be… at home.”
Pitra held his gaze for a moment, then gave a sharp nod.
“Thanks,” Tarymn muttered, shoving the thought away before he could admit to himself why the idea of fucking another omega with Ludiin just a few feet away felt weird. He turned and left his office.
“Hey, Tarymn,” Maxus said, glancing up from the e-reader balanced in his hands. Dark shadows painted the skin beneath his eyes.
“You don’t look good,” Tarymn said, studying him.
A faint, humorless smile tugged at Maxus’s lips. “I could say the same about you.”
“Right,” Tarymn exhaled, the word slipping out on a tired sigh.
“I was going over your suggestions,” Maxus said, his voice flat with exhaustion. “We’ve taken every precaution we can. But this won’t be easy for omegas. I can’t imagine being forced to leave home.”
Tarymn leaned against the edge of the desk, jaw tight. “This doesn’t have to happen. You’re the alpha king. You could say no to the council of alphas.”
Maxus gave a short, bitter laugh before exhaling, shoulders sagging. “I don’t think I have that choice. Deltta is my brother… things are different.” He shut the e-reader with a snap, rubbing his eyes. “All we can do now is hope for the best and protect the omegas who’ll fall under our care.”
Protect the omegas in our care.
The words looped through Tarymn’s head, tightening in his chest. Ludiin. Luci.
“I have two omegas I need to protect. I’m going to need you to pull some strings for me.”
Maxus gave a small nod. “Of course. Everyone here is making arrangements for their families. Only the poor will suffer. I wish it weren’t that way, but…I’m tired of fighting.”
“We’ll find a way to make sure they don’t suffer. I’ll make sure of it,” Tarymn said firmly.
“Yeah.” Maxus forced a smile, though doubt flickered in his eyes. He didn’t believe it, not really. And Tarymn couldn’t fix that. Their world was already broken. All they could do now was protect their future.
He stepped out of Maxus’ office, the heavy door hissing shut behind him, and found Pitra waiting just outside. Without a word, Tarymn headed to the exit.
“Where are you going?” Pitra asked, quickening his pace to keep up as they entered the parking dome.
“Home.”
“I’m sure Ludiin and Luci will be glad to see you,” Pitra said, keying the pod open as they approached.
Tarymn’s mouth twitched, but there was no humor in it. “I doubt that,” he muttered, climbing into the pod.
Pitra slid wordlessly into the operator’s chair, his hands flying over the controls.
Within minutes the pod drifted onto the airway, leaving the council district behind.
Tarymn stared out the window even though there was little to see.
Over the past months, life had morphed into something unrecognizable.
The capital, once alive with noise and movement, now stretched before him silent and ghostly.
“Fuck,” Tarymn mumbled, dragging a hand down his face as he tried to not to think about what was going to happen with the new law.
By the time he reached home, he’d made the decision to warn Ludiin and Luci before the news spread, so they weren’t blindsided. He climbed the narrow stairs, his heart pounding hard with each step he took towards Ludiin.
Halfway up, Tarymn stilled, his pulse stuttering as Ludiin’s soft voice carried down.
“I feel so much better now. It’s like a weight’s been lifted. I can finally focus on my work without my heat hanging over me. And… I’ve been thinking a lot about making those pleasuring bots. I’ll need someone to test them, of course, but I think I can do it.”
“So, you’re not going to work things out with him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I think he was right.”
Tarymn’s breath hitched.