Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Diamond Ballroom, Blood Kingdom
Lanlin
“Now, let us have no more talk of killing.” I swallow my grief and thoughts of Lazarus.
Hasn’t my life been defined by blood and bones?
For the first time, I allow myself instead to focus on the warm sunshine of my pretty, living nest mates, who are standing in front of me ready for the ball.
“We should enjoy our night together. I don’t need anyone else with me. I have you two. You are enough.”
Dove still appears worryingly pale, but he smiles. “Then show me the way to the cakes. What do you want to eat, love?”
Freya smiles. “Something sweet.”
Dove drags his wings back, before twirling to grasp Freya and bend her back into a deep kiss. “Sweet enough, love?”
Dazed, Freya licks her lips. “Hmm, give it another try.”
Dove kisses her again, slower this time.
They truly are beautiful together.
My mates. Bat riders. My King and Queen.
Freya is breathing hard this time, when Dove pulls back. He rights her, and she raises her wrist to her mouth, lightly kissing over the snowflake bond mark.
Then she kisses the Ankh mark as well.
I shiver at the pleasure that winds through our bond and the sense of her deep love and joy.
Both Dove and I smile at the same time.
I grab Dove, swinging him in the direction of the low tables of food to help him without making it look to our Omega like I am.
An Alpha shouldn’t cut off another Alpha’s knot.
Unless it belongs to Horus.
“The food is on long tables at the back of the room beside the silver altar,” I mutter, quietly enough for only Dove to hear.
“The altar for the blood sacrifice that won’t be happening, aye?” Dove’s expression hardens.
“The only feasting will be on the succulent roast goose, plump grapes, and the sticky honey and date cakes that I ordered in honor of Freya and you. Bring some back to us, after you’ve stuffed your fae face.”
He salutes. “Aye, aye, Your Majesty.”
I shove Dove toward the tables.
Dove stumbles, before righting himself with a swagger that I have never seen anyone else pull off.
He winks at Freya.
After taking a deep sniff, he moves directly towards the serving tables. They are laden with not just cakes, but also trays of marinated beef, aromatic lentils in bowls, and round loaves of bread placed alongside soft, crumbly cheese.
Freya loops her arms around my shoulders, and I rest one of my hands on her waist.
I can sense heavy gazes resting on me, calculating and assessing.
Will I ever become used to this much touch? In public?
“You know that was dangerous,” Freya murmurs. “He’ll probably eat every cake you have.”
“Little Dove deserves the treats more than anyone else here,” I reply. “There must be some perk to being a king.”
Suddenly, there is a flutter of movement on the dance floor. I swing Freya back to the reed mats.
The drums start up like a frantic heartbeat.
“What’s going on?” Freya asks, excitedly.
Despite myself, I relax my shoulders, enjoying the moment. This is the first time that I have had someone to share this event with.
I glance over the crowds at Dove, who hunches over the table, nose close to the serving platters, as he hunts eagerly for the cakes. He lets out a whoop, when his fingers close over the honey and date cakes.
Dove’s wings flap, and he stuffs an entire cake into his mouth in one go, while smoothly rolling his hips to the rhythm of the music.
Stunned, I still, when a sudden wave of emotion washes over me.
This. Is. Happiness.
I thought that I had felt it before with my cock buried in my Omega’s pussy or my fangs in my Blood Lover’s throat.
Or when I heard their promise of love.
Yet there is warmth in my chest, as my Omega nuzzles against me in her wolf mask, while my fae delightedly eats the treat that I supplied for him at an annual ball that has only filled me with sadness before.
Now, I understand love — fated love — for your nest mates.
I place my finger under Freya’s chin, tipping up her head.
Her surprised gaze meets mine.
“I love you, dearheart,” I say, simply.
Freya’s gaze softens. “I love you, darkness.”
I lean down, licking up her rose-tinged scent gland. She whines, clinging harder to me.
In front of us, a troop of naked male and female dancers in nothing but sparkling makeup, as if they have been dipped in crushed stars, are elegantly dancing to the beat of the drums and the clappers.
They curve their arms like lotus stems. Then they bend sensually at the waists, as if they are the ripples on a pond.
But then, the reed pipes become haunting, and the tempo picks up a pace.
A new figure enters the dance who has three pyramids painted on his chest. He is larger than the other dancers and spins like a whirlwind, forcing the rest to bend before his will.
My mouth tightens.
From his seat, Ruin nods at me.
I imagine pulling his spine out and using it to beat him to death.
“It’s incredible.” Freya is rocking on her heels. “What does the dance represent?”
“The Void Devils.” I turn away. “Why we worship and fear them. Ruin’s contribution to the evening.”
“That’s nice of him.”
Nice as a blade between my shoulder blades.
Freya reaches up to touch my mask. “Can I have the honor of the first dance? And my first ever dance at a ball?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Then it will be your first dance too, right? We can suck together.”
I lower my lips to graze them against Freya’s ear. “You are the only person, for whom I would allow myself to look ridiculous. So, shall we dance?”
My hair is damp with sweat.
I would rather be facing down an army of frenzied Shadow Trolls than dance in front of my court.
If my Omega wants this, however, then she shall have it.
“How about we just sway to the music?” Freya’s voice is low, bubbling with conspiratorial laughter that pulls at me inside in a way that I don’t understand. “Yeah, like that.”
I drag her closer by the waist, swaying to the harp music, which now joins the reed pipes.
The drums are beating faster, as the troop of dancers twirl wildly. I roll my eyes at Dove, who is matching them beside the altar, spinning faster than the naked dancers are.
Show off.
Yet I also glow proudly because my Blood Lover is more talented than Ruin’s dancers.
I run Freya’s long hair through my fingers.
“Before we marry and then share our first heat and rut together tomorrow on the Blood Moon,” Freya says, “we need to have a serious conversation. And when we do, you must promise to listen with no interruptions, okay? There are some things that Dove and I have to to tell you. None of it changes how much we care about you. Everything we feel for you is real.”
Panic spikes through me, along with a sick dread.
“Serious conversation? Real?” I whisper.
What’s going on? What in the name of the Void do they need to tell me?
“How sweet. You would think that you were the handsome brother between us now. Was that why you had your damn lion bite me? You wanted to take over as the seducer in the family?” A drunken voice snarls.
I take a deep breath, attempting to keep hold of my temper.
On the Night of the Shades, fighting is banned because it would disrespect the dead.
Yet it will be hard with Horus.
I’m the King. Surely, I can bend the law.
When Shadow roars, Horus whimpers. He stumbles back a step, spilling his cup of wine down the front of his bare chest.
“Good girl, Shadow.” I push Freya behind me, and the demonic lions immediately flank my Omega protectively.
When I study Horus, however, I am shocked that he looks a mess. His crocodile leather outfit is stained. Although he is still smothered in peridot and emerald jewelry, it is the only sparkling thing about him.
Horus’ long, black curls are lank and tangled. His eyes are red-rimmed, as if he has been crying.
“Don’t talk to me,” I warn. “I don’t want to spill blood tonight.”
“You murdered our brother.” Horus sobs like he has been struggling to hold back his tears but can’t anymore. “Hypocrite. Wasn’t scarring him enough? Tonight, Sobek’s spirit is cursing you. And I swear that I will—”
“Do swear treason in front of witnesses,” I drawl. “It would make my evening.”
Horus’ face scrunches up in distress. “Monster.”
“Well, that hurts. Actually, it doesn’t any longer. Ask yourself if you should be showing such disrespect to a monster who is no longer locked up by you in the dark? Who is no longer under your control, being tortured by you, Grand Mage? Who you failed to break?”
“We shouldn’t be quarreling.” Isis glides up behind Horus, fixing her son with an icy glare, which Horus appears more terrified of than he is of me.
The Beta is tiny, but she still easily yanks the larger Alpha behind her.
“Hor is drunk. I warned all you boys about the dangers of overindulging, but it is Hor who simply cannot control himself, whether with wine, blood, or Omegas. Look where it has led. But have mercy; he is grieving both the loss of his manhood and his brother.”
“I wonder which one you’re crying about losing the most?” Freya quirks her brow. “Knot or brother?”
I truly do have a vicious Omega. Freya is perfect.
Horus gapes at her. “Shall I slice off your pretty hand, before tearing out your fae’s throat? See what you weep over losing most?”
I growl in my throat.
“You know how we get on the Night of the Shades,” Isis placates, while tightening her hold on Horus’ wrist, until he hisses in pain. “I do hope, Lan, that you are able to grieve for your ancestors and our family, despite allowing their tombs to be desecrated at White Lotus.”
Isis wears her usual simple attire, with her only ornament being a malachite crocodile badge, which is fastened to her robe. Yet she looks immaculate, and her eyes are clear. She doesn’t have heavy bags underneath them like she hasn’t been able to sleep for weeks, unlike Horus.
“Aren’t you grieving your son?” I challenge.
“You mean the one you murdered?” Isis throws back, her lips thinning. “Sobek made a poor decision, which is regrettable.”