Chapter 27 #2
Chase crouched beside his pathetic beta and clutched his shoulders, palming them. “She’s fine. Saphi will take care of her. Saphi will bring her home.”
“On that matter, I passed a message back to her—a meeting point. I am sure she will find her way there. My little wolf is so very clever and resourceful.” I smiled the worst sort of smile I could manage when Morden looked at me, enjoying that hard edge to his eyes that betrayed him once again.
A smile that warned the male that she was mine, and would never be his, and that I knew he harboured feelings for her beyond friendship.
“Malachi will bring them home… and if he does not, Neve has seen me in the Summer Court. I will bring them home safely.”
“Thank you.” Chase answered for his beta, but I kept my eyes on Morden.
Waiting.
The dark-haired male roughly pushed to his feet, his eyes as bright as the silver of mine, and for a heartbeat he looked as if he might say something that would end with him strung up in the courtyard, but instead he grunted, “Thanks.”
I watched him go, not taking my eyes off his retreating back as he stomped towards the centre of the encampment.
“You know, you could try being a little friendlier to him.” Chase did not look at me as I scowled at him.
“It is my court. I will treat him as I see fit.”
“Because you think he wants Saphi.” Chase turned his back on his beta and jammed his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, his expression serious as he said, “Maybe he entertained thoughts about it once, even though she was fated to Lucas, and maybe he got a little drunk and admitted she was the reason he left the pack, but that was a long time ago.”
“He has not had a change of heart, if that is what you are insinuating. You did not see him when he came to my court.” I narrowed my eyes on Morden’s back.
I should have killed him then, while I had the chance.
I shut down that line of thought, because Saphira would be angry with me if I harmed her friend.
“You did not hear how he spoke to me… or how he looked at her. I am no fool, Chase. Do not think to make me out to be one.”
He heaved a long, somewhat exasperated sigh.
“I’m not trying to deceive you. I had a talk with him, and he took a good look at Saphi when she’s with you and—look, he might have sworn me to silence, so don’t ever let him hear about this—he admitted she was better off with you.
She loves you. That’s pretty clear. And you love her too…
and it’s good that she has that, has you, in her life, even if you do talk about using a peeler to remove the skin from people and I know you would do it.
” He held his index finger up when I began to smirk.
“Not a word. Not even to prod and poke at him. Be the graceful winner.”
“But where is the fun in that?” My grin emerged as I watched Morden, the buzz of victory a delicious and potent drug coursing through my veins.
“Not a word.” Chase waggled his finger at me, a dark edge to his expression.
Pushy little alpha.
“Very well.” I nodded and stepped backwards, into my shadows, letting them curl around me as I added, “But if he tries anything, I am going to see if I can peel the skin from his body in one continuous strip.”
Darkness swallowed me.
I stepped out of it in my quarters, gaze landing on the peeler where I had set it on a sideboard among the weapons in my armoury.
A chuckle tumbled from my lips as I crossed the room to it and set my dented pauldron down beside it, enjoying the scene playing out in my mind, letting my imagination run wild with it.
I took the matching pauldron from my other set of armour and affixed it to my shoulder, and then neatened my appearance in the mirror.
My gaze lingered on that thin red line on the front of my throat—a wound that was healed now.
I lifted my fingers and brushed them over it, swearing I could still feel the blade against it and how she had trembled while holding me hostage, and how her cheeks had heated so beautifully when I had teased her.
I had missed making her blush.
It would become my daily task for the rest of our lives when she was back with me.
I teleported again, landing in the great hall this time, on the dais before the seated highborn males who filled the wooden pews set between the towering columns and the walls.
I sank onto my recently repaired black throne and curled my fingers over the arms of it, surveying them all, putting a name to every face and charting their positions, so I would know who to kill.
Lifting my left hand, I signalled Jenavyr where she stood near the side door. She came to me and bent her head, and I whispered a command into her ear, one that had her nodding and exiting through that door only those among my inner circle could use.
The finely dressed males remained hushed, obediently waiting for me to speak, revealing they knew their places in at least some regards.
They were beneath me, and I had long endured their antiquated opinions and attempts to wrest control over aspects of my court from my hands.
Including my sister’s role as my commander.
I singled out those among the highborn I had chosen to sit on my council, and those who were only on it because of their bloodline. It was time for a reformation, a change of the traditional rules regarding who got to influence my court.
I looked down on them all as they began to whisper to each other, aware from the looks on some of their faces that word of Saphira had spread through my court as expected.
When I lifted my left hand again, they fell silent.
That casual action drew their attention to me, and really gripped it when the side door opened again, only it was not my sister who walked through it.
Oberon strode into the room, up the steps of the dais, and halted beside me, twisting to face the males, his fine black tunic jacket stretching across his chest as he linked his hands behind his back.
He silently watched the council.
This meeting was a test.
And some of them were about to fail it.
“I am appointing this male as my advisor and he will take the position immediately.” My voice rang out through the enormous hall, echoing back at me from the vaulted ceiling.
The whispers began again, fiercer this time. Exactly as I had expected since Oberon was not of my court.
I held my hand out towards my old friend. “Prince Oberon of the Stygian Isles now serves this court.”
Those whispers became a roar.
I noted the looks on all their faces, and the most surprised and confused were those from Belkarthen and Wraith Wood, which made sense given that they only visited Falkyr when summoned and had probably never seen me with Oberon when he visited me.
“Is he a Forgotten Prince?” A lord from Wraith Wood pushed to his feet and when Oberon nodded, he continued, “Why should he be allowed to act as your advisor, my king, a position that has remained vacant since you took the throne?”
I leaned back in my throne and tapped the claws of my gauntlets against the carved arms. “Oberon has acted as my advisor for many decades now. We are merely formalising his role.”
That gained Oberon curious looks from several males, and I watched them closely, trying to discern which of them would report this to the high king.
I had withdrawn many of my spies from the other courts in preparation for this moment, so I knew who within my own court was corrupt.
I glanced at Oberon, who nodded, understanding my silent command to have some of those spies assigned to each male to track their movements.
Both of us wanted to know who among my court was speaking to Ereborne, reporting on us.
Elduin was too well informed not to have spies within my court, and I suspected it was not only the Ereborne warlocks who had reported about Saphira to their high king and had prompted Elduin to host the ball that had blatantly been about my little wolf.
I calmly surveyed the males gathered before me, tipping my chin up as I did so, and my voice rang out through the great hall as I spoke, my tone controlled and unchallengeable.
My word law.
“I believe rumours are spreading in my court and I do not condone such things, and therefore I will confirm them as true so my council might get on with their work rather than gossiping to one another.” I eased onto my feet and looked down at them all as they fell silent and still, trembling in my presence as I released the constant hold I had on my magic and allowed the power of it to wash through the room.
The shadows in every crevice and crack darkened, and where they pooled beneath the pews, they began to writhe with restless hunger, ready to spill blood.
I tipped my chin up and straightened my back, holding my head high as I said, “Saphira Harper is born of fae blood, daughter of the former Summer King through his deception, a half-breed whose roots run deepest on her wolven side.”
Oberon shifted foot-to-foot beside me, as restless as my shadows as they hungered to strike down anyone who dared to say a word against my little wolf.
I drew down a deep breath, seeking calm in it as I reined my shadows in just enough that they would not strike if anyone moved, if anyone spoke, if anyone dared to even look as if they were disgusted by what I said next.
Because I wanted to draw out their pain for my pleasure.