Chapter 22
TWENTY-FOUR YEARS OLD
Amos left his meeting with Paul, fantasizing about all the ways he could kill the rat.
He’d considered killing him and his guards during the meeting, but he had no way to clean it up without time to plan it properly.
The king treated Paul more like a son than he had ever treated his own, and Amos didn’t know how he’d react to him killing the man.
That morning, Amos’ father had asked him to meet with Paul to go over the recent rebel attacks.
The king’s absence from the meeting struck Amos as strange because his father usually insisted on being present for all meetings about the kingdom.
Amos had almost laughed when his father told him to meet with the fucking snake.
Amos wanted to inform the king that his precious Paul was behind the attacks, but he had no tangible proof.
Amos quickened his pace, needing to finish his letter to Clover about their upcoming birthdays.
They turned twenty-five soon, and he’d been counting down the days until they would live together. And he would finally meet his sister.
Queen Charlotte refused to allow Rennick to take Amelia back to the Mountain Kingdom until after he took the throne because Amelia could still inherit the Desert Kingdom throne, even if she and Rennick were married.
Amelia looked too much like Amos and their father for it to go unnoticed.
If word had gotten back to their father, Amos had no doubt that Phillip would have stopped at nothing until she was dead.
But once Rennick took the throne and married Amelia, she would be queen and no longer in line to rule the Desert Kingdom.
Centuries ago, each of the five kingdoms signed a treaty stating that no one person could rule more than one kingdom.
It didn’t matter now. Once Amos turned twenty-five, they wouldn’t have to worry anymore about Phillip trying to kill her, because he’d be dead.
Amos arrived at his rooms and walked inside, stopping short in the middle of his sitting room because his bedroom door had been broken open.
Softly closing the door to the hallway behind him, he clicked the lock and quietly approached his bedroom. His father stood over his desk with a few papers strewn across the top. Amos stilled.
His letters from Clover. He burned any correspondence from the Hydra immediately, but he couldn’t bring himself to destroy hers. Most were hidden in a box in his closet, but he kept his favorites in his desk to reread.
This is it. Resolve settled over him like armor.
He was only a couple of weeks shy of turning twenty-five, and his magic was almost at full capacity.
He had been training since he was a teenager to kill his father, and while the original plan had been to have backup, he knew the time had come.
His father knew what Clover was to him, and Amos couldn’t let him live.
His father hadn’t seen him yet, too absorbed in reading the letters, so Amos stepped out of sight and connected to Roland.
“Go to Dragon Village and tell Ember to tell Rainer I’m killing my father tonight. He knows about Clover.”
Roland replied instantly. “Where should I tell him to meet you?”
“In the capital, at the safe house nearest the den’s entrance. Ask him to send Ruth and Sariah on dragons through the den so they arrive faster. I have to go.”
“I’ll tell Sasha too.”
“Be safe. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
It would take Ruth and Sariah at least three days to get to the capital. If Rainer glamoured himself and Ember, he might get here just as fast, but if he takes a horse, it would be at least five days or more.
Amos had wanted to put his father’s head on a spike tonight, but he couldn’t publicly announce his father’s death until the Hydra was in place to handle any riots.
Amos cut the connection and stepped into his bedroom. “Doing a little light reading?”
His father set down the letter in his hands and slowly turned to face Amos. He flicked his hand over the papers littering the desk. “I don’t even know what to make of this except that you’ve committed treason by lying to me.”
Amos feigned exhaustion as he removed his hat and walked to his closet, gesturing inside.
“Let me unload before you start.” Once inside the closet, he quickly grabbed a bottle of the illegal sleeping tonic and soaked a cloth with it, careful not to inhale the fumes, and quickly removed his vest and belt for show.
“Now, what exactly have I lied about, Your Grace?” he drawled, sauntering back into the room with the cloth hidden in his hand.
“Do not play coy with me,” his father snarled. “You’ve lied about Jennifer being your mate.” The king’s chest heaved. “But the most interesting fact is that Clover,” he spat her name like poison, “thinks you’ll be king on your birthday.”
Amos walked back into his bedroom and right up to his father. With a sigh, he looked from his letters to his father. “You misunderstood.”
“Paul told me he thought you were plotting to overthrow me, but I didn’t believe him,” Phillip sneered. “He was insistent that you were hiding something.” That explains the meeting with Paul. It was a distraction.
His father knocked everything off of Amos’ desk with a roar.
Amos glanced at the mess his father made, then back to him with a reproachful look. “Hiding a mate is a far cry from treason,” he said conversationally. “And I won’t be taking over as king on my birthday.” It will be tonight when you die.
His father’s nostrils flared. “What the fuck are you playing at? Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe your lies?” He stepped closer and got in Amos’ face.
Amos smirked. “Yes.” He tackled his father to the ground, pinning the king’s arms with his knees, and held the cloth over his face.
The tonic was made from a seaweed plant found off the coast of the Tropical fae lands and worked instantaneously.
Flipping his father to his back, he laid the cloth over his face for good measure.
After washing his hands, Amos took his time gathering what he needed to get rid of his father once and for all.
Amos stood over his father’s body, panting from the effort of carrying him to the safe house. He had carefully put away his letters from Clover, slung his father over his shoulder, and glamoured them as he carried the heavy body all the way here.
He dropped his father’s body in the secluded area behind the house and exhaled with relief.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Amos dropped his bag and dug through the contents for water.
He might be one of the strongest men in Eden, but the safe house was a long walk from the palace. After drinking his fill, he got to work binding his father’s hands and feet, and trapping a cloth in his mouth with a gag.
Sasha’s powerful wings kicked up dirt like a wind storm as she landed close by, and his heart ached for her. No matter how evil the king was, he was still Sasha’s bonded, and that had to stand for something.
She’d been there for Amos in times when no one stepped in to stop his father, and the knowledge that killing his father might hurt her, made him hesitate.
Amos stood and approached the dragon. “I have to stop him.” Sasha nodded and nudged his stomach. Why hadn’t he thought about how this would affect her? He had been a selfish bastard.
“If this is too hard for you, I can try to amputate his arms and legs, and lock him away with the Hydra somewhere.” He doubted the Hydra would agree, but he owed it to Sasha to try.
Sasha shook her head sharply and stomped all four of her feet, kicking up more dust.
“You want me to kill him?” Sasha nodded.
The tension in Amos’ shoulders released. Even the thought of locking his father away somewhere made him uneasy, but he’d owed it to the dragon to ask her opinion. He felt like an asshole for not doing that before now.
Amos rubbed her scaled nose. “It’s okay to be sad for who he should have been.” Sasha stepped closer and nuzzled him. “I love you, Sasha. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
The dragon stepped back and sat. “I’m not going to make it quick,” he warned. “You might not want to watch.” She didn’t move.
Amos walked to her side and lowered himself to the ground beside her. “I won’t start until he wakes up.”
He didn’t know how long they waited, but eventually, Phillip rolled over and started jerking against the ropes. He realized his father might be strong enough to break the ropes. It might have to be quick after all.
Jumping to his feet, he walked into his father’s line of sight and squatted down. “Paul was right.”
His father’s eyes widened, and he tried yelling around the cloth in his mouth, struggling to free himself. Amos ignored him and went to his bag to retrieve a whip. The king saw the weapon and struggled harder, trying to drag himself away.
Amos could have given a speech, told his father how vile he was and how much he deserved this, but he didn’t need to explain himself. They both knew. Instead, Amos drew a whip from his pack and brought it down across Phillip’s face and body until the king nearly passed out.
Tossing the whip aside, Amos removed the dagger at his belt and grabbed his father’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “Have you ever heard of death by a thousand cuts?”
His father groaned through labored breaths, and Amos held up the dagger. “I’ll give you a demonstration.”
He sliced his father’s body in strategic places that wouldn’t kill him right away. A slow painful death in the dirt, tied up like a dangerous beast was exactly how the king deserved to die.
Amos spent time working on his father’s body until Sasha stumbled and crumpled to the ground. He shot to his feet and sheathed his dagger, running to her side. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Her responding huff was weak, and Amos smoothed his hand down her neck.
She wouldn’t have told him to kill his father if it would hurt her… would she? Amos connected to Roland. “What happens to a familiar when their bonded dies?”