Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ARES
I square up against Logan in the training field, feeling the satisfying weight of the practice sword in my hand. The packed dirt beneath our feet bears evidence of earlier matches—droplets of sweat, scuff marks, and even a few specks of blood.
Our training has attracted a small crowd, hangers-on and off-duty guards who are likely placing bets on the outcome of any potential challenges.
The arena is already sold out and the games will be broadcast on every holovid unit.
Most of the kingdom will view the games live.
There hasn’t been a more anticipated spectacle in years.
It’s important that I put my all into this training so no one has room to doubt that Logan will win against any of his brothers that dare to challenge his claim to the throne.
Logan circles me with predatory grace, golden eyes tracking my movements. His white uniform is already sweat-stained, clinging to his muscled frame. The training fields are busy with soldiers preparing for the upcoming games, but they’ve given us a wide berth.
“You’re favoring your right side,” I call out, twirling my blade. “Still sore from yesterday’s bout?”
Logan’s mouth twitches. “Just giving you a fighting chance.”
We explode into motion simultaneously. Our blades clash with a metallic ring that vibrates up my arm. I use my superior strength to push him back, but Logan ducks under my next swing and sweeps my legs. I roll away just before his blade strikes the ground where I’d been.
“Getting slow, Ares?” Logan taunts, breathing hard.
I respond with a flurry of strikes that force him onto the defensive. For a moment, our eyes lock over crossed blades.
Movement on the edge of the training field catches my attention.
Maya’s long violet hair and the skirt of her dark green dress billow in the breeze, like some kind of ethereal vision of a forest sprite.
The sight of her hits me harder than any of Logan’s strikes.
Sunlight catches on the silver pendant at her throat—his mark on her—and something primal twists in my chest.
My attention wavers for a crucial half-second.
I hit the training mat hard, my shoulder taking most of the impact as Logan’s armlock forces me to tap out. Sweat drips into my eyes, blurring my vision as Logan releases my arm with a disgusted grunt.
“What the hell was that?” Logan stands over me, his golden eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You left yourself completely open.”
“Just a slip.” I roll my shoulder, working out the tension. “Won’t happen again.”
“It better not.” Logan extends his hand, pulling me to my feet with more force than necessary. “The royal games are only a few days away. I need you focused. Unless you’re hoping to see me finished off.”
“Of course not.” I let him help me up, but my attention returns to Maya.
A vaguely familiar figure is rapidly approaching where she sits with Poe in the stands.
Poe might be alert to traditional threats, but there’s a more insidious type he won’t see coming.
“Let’s take a break. I just need a minute. ”
Scoffing, Logan waves me away and gestures for a nearby guard to join him on the field.
I stride across the training field toward Maya, narrowing my eyes at the stylishly dressed woman sitting beside her.
“So, Your Highness, how do you feel about the upcoming games? Are you worried about Prince Logan’s safety?” the woman asks, leaning forward with a recorder barely concealed in her manicured hand.
“I—“ Maya begins.
“That’s enough,” I interrupt, placing myself between them. “This area is restricted to authorized personnel only.”
The woman’s red lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Ares! Just the man I was hoping to see. You’re looking particularly fierce today.”
“Belinda Farrow,” I address her, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “Still pretending to be a courtier to ambush people? I thought we had an understanding after that piece you wrote about Logan’s twenty-fifth birthday.”
Maya looks between us, confusion evident on her face. “You know each other?”
“Belinda writes for The Royal Observer,” I explain, crossing my arms. “Specializes in hit pieces and half-truths about the royal family. Last time we gave her an interview, she published a charming article titled ‘ Prince Logan’s Drunken Debauchery Disgraces Dynasty .’ Clever alliteration aside, that piece was total dreck, Belinda. ”
Belinda shrugs, completely unabashed. “My readers appreciate honesty about their future monarch.”
“Your readers appreciate scandal,” I counter. “And you’re trespassing.”
“I have press credentials,” she protests, holding up a laminated card.
“For the main pavilion, not the training grounds.” I glance at Maya, who watches our exchange with an unreadable expression. “Lady Maya isn’t giving interviews today.”
Belinda stands, smoothing her dress. “The public has a right to know about their future queen.”
“The public will know what we choose to tell them,” I say with practiced charm, softening my tone. “But I’ll make you a deal. Leave now without a fuss, and I’ll arrange a proper photo shoot after the games. Structured interview, approved questions only.”
“With Maya?” Belinda perks up.
“With Logan, his pack and his princess,” I confirm, emphasizing the last word. “Exclusive access, but only if you walk away right now.”
Belinda considers this, tapping her recorder against her palm. “Fine. But I want two hours minimum, and final approval on the photos.”
“You can have an hour and we approve the final copy before publication.”
“One hour, but I don’t provide the questions beforehand.”
I sigh. “One hour, one unscripted question that Logan can veto if inappropriate. Take it or leave it.”
“Deal.” Belinda extends her hand, which I shake briefly. She turns to Maya with a practiced smile. “Looking forward to our chat, Your Highness. I have a feeling you’ll make a fascinating subject.”
I give a nod to Poe, who is more than happy to grip Belinda by the arm and escort her off the training field. Maya watches them go, her gaze unreadable and mouth tight-lipped.
“Sorry about that. Belinda’s been a thorn in Logan’s side for years. She has an uncanny ability to find our weak spots and exploit them.” I drop my voice. “Never speak to reporters without one of us present. Especially not her.”
Maya raises an eyebrow. “You seem pretty practiced at handling her.”
“Someone has to keep Logan’s worst impulses out of the papers.” I glance back at the field where Logan continues training. “I’ve gotten good at damage control.”
“I can appreciate that about you.”
She stares at the training field, her expression subdued. Logan is on the opposite side of where her gaze is aimed, so I know she isn’t looking at him. As far as I can tell, she isn’t looking at anything at all. The usual fire in her eyes seems dimmed today.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, studying her profile.
Maya turns to me with surprise etched across her face. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
“I notice everything about you.” The words slip out before I can filter them.
When her eyebrows raise, I clear my throat.
“Your shoulders are tense. You’ve barely watched the training, which is unusual considering how eager you’ve been to learn combat techniques.
And you haven’t made a single sarcastic comment about Logan’s form, which is practically your favorite pastime. ”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “I hope you don’t notice everything about me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because a girl needs to keep some secrets.” She coyly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, but the playfulness doesn’t reach her eyes.
I nudge her shoulder gently with mine. “Come on. Something’s clearly bothering you. Tell me.”
Maya sighs, running her fingers over the silver pendant at her throat. “My mother was at the coalition meeting.”
“Charlotte?” I hadn’t expected that. “I didn’t realize that would be a problem. You haven’t seen her since before the bonding, right?”
“I hadn’t seen her in over a year, Ares.
” Her voice hardens, a note of resentment and judgment that I’ve never heard from her before.
“Not since the last time she tried to sell me off. I’m sure you remember how excited she was when she first accompanied me to the palace.
And after, when I told her that Prince Logan put me on my knees, she only wanted to know how many guests she could invite to the bonding ceremony. ”
I frown, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in my chest. When she puts it like that, we all sound like assholes. We never should have treated her like that, and I won’t bother making excuses for it, but Maya acts as if her mother sold her on the auction block.
“I’m sorry for the way we treated you, and I’ll say it however many times you need to hear it, but Charlotte obviously wanted what was best for you. This is just what families do with Omegas. It’s how the system works.”
Maya turns to face me fully, her eyes suddenly ablaze. “And you think that makes it okay? That a mother would willingly sign away her child to strangers? Make me basically an orphan in every way that matters?”
“I—“ I start, then stop, realizing I’ve never actually considered it from that perspective.
“She got paid handsomely for it too,” Maya continues, her voice tight. “Enough to move from the outskirts into a townhouse in the central district. My designation was her winning lottery ticket when she sent me off to the Enclave.”
I watch a bead of sweat trail down her temple, wanting to brush it away but resisting the urge. “I always thought of it as training. Like what I went through in the guard.”