Kings & Queens
MORGANA
T racer leads us up to this ridiculous tent set-up on what must be a spell to make a sandy beachside.
There are a fuck ton of fish folk milling around in the offensively themed home base for the Sons MC gang.
I have no idea why this douchebag decorated their territory like something out of the Arabian Nights , but it’s weird as hell.
As we get closer, I notice that the scantily dressed shifters serving the leadership aren’t only females, but males and non-binary as well.
At least they’re equal opportunity in their bullshit subjugation roles.
“Chill, Lady M. We can’t stomp on their stupid aqua shoes the minute we arrive,” Lucas says as he moves to my side. “I know this is pissing you off; hell, it’s pissing off the ancient grumpy balls back there, but we have to play it cool.”
Kaspar snorts, muttering, “Smarter than he looks every time.”
Glaring at him, I keep Slade in between the tall hockey player and I while the Prince and Iggy follow.
The dragon can stay in the back, watching for shenanigans and keep his yap shut, as far as I’m concerned.
He’s much more likely to piss these assholes off before I am. “Axel is the one on the throne, yes?”
“Yeah, that’s my dad,” the siren says glumly. “He’s insane, I swear to hell.”
The huge man sitting on the gilded throne in a leather cut and board shorts with flip flops hasn’t even looked our way.
I know he saw Tracer come in ahead of us, but his eyes haven’t moved from the nymphs belly dancing to the music played by the surfer-style acoustic band in the corner.
I don’t see Slade’s mom—though I have no idea what the hell she looks like.
She could be any of the Peg Bundy looking women flitting around the opposite end of the circus-sized tent and I wouldn’t know.
“Why the hell are the male presenting bikers dressed like surfers that bred with biker gangs?” Liam asks as we cross the last bit of distance to the throne area. “And the female presenting shifters are like in… bouffants and heels? This is so fucking strange.”
Iggy chuckles softly. “The Sons are a Cali gang through and through, though I’m not sure that’s to blame for their egregious fashion sense.
Notice how much seaweed and shells are in their hair and beards?
They’re Poseidon acolytes, and everyone knows some of their hold on their territory is from his boons. ”
Fuuuuuuck. A deity worshipping gang of fashion-challenged gill-lickers—just what I needed.
“I wish you’d mentioned that before we got here.”
Slade looks up at me, his beautiful eyes concerned. “Why?”
“Because Poseidon and Helios are historically big fans of dragons—along with some other deities that have Society ties—and I killed a very old, very powerful fucking dragon in a publicly covered trial?” I grit out as the muscled shark finally cuts his gaze to our group.
He sneers immediately, and I keep my features neutral until we stop a respectable distance from their royal dais.
I can feel the unease of the men behind me, but they’ll have to wait until later.
Iggy and Slade weren’t hiding the gang’s affiliation, I know.
However, it changes how they’ll feel about me and how we’ll respond to whatever bullshit they fling at us.
I’m not eager to piss off any other gods or goddesses for a bit; I’m already on a leash because of how the Society trial went.
“Son.”
Slade steps forward a little bit, his shoulders squared as he looks at his dad.
The hammerhead shifter is tall like my siren, but that’s where the similarities end.
Where Axel is broad and muscled with a ZZ Top-esque platinum beard and deeply tanned skin, Slade looks like he could be part Fae rather than an aquatic shifter.
The Prez is decorated with shells, seaweed, scars, and hemp jewelry adorned by shark teeth where Slade looks handsome and elegant in the suit Liam had delivered.
It makes me wonder even more what his mother looks like, especially since my musical man told us she only gave birth to him and the twins.
Speaking of which, where the fuck are all these siblings?
“Good evening, Father,” Slade says as he looks from the leader to the various people sitting on each side of him. “Thank you for seeing us.”
A chorus of loud, derisive laughter sounds out from the peanut gallery and my eyes narrow.
I open my mouth to snarl at the lazy, weed-scented fucker, but Lucas grabs my arm surreptitiously.
His expression tells me to wait, so I press my lips together as I watch the idiot minions snicker and clink beer bottles.
“Good evening, Father,” Axel mimics in a child-like voice as he thumps his fist on the arm of the throne. “How the fuck did I contribute to such a spineless little shit? My first born should be my right hand, my righteous fist of glory, but instead, he’s a singing school teacher.”
What a dick.
“Lay off him, Axel.” Iggy comes forward, his posture deceptively casual as he smirks at the array of motorcycle club members.
“Slade is going to have his doctorate in two years, and you’re not getting your slimy hands on him.
Tracer and all the rest of your progeny are eager to compete for the seat you’ll never give up until they throw your rotting fins into the deep blue. ”
“I thought you said?—”
Lucas cuts off my irritated whisper with a sharp shake of his head and I roll my eyes to the ceiling of the stupid tent.
I hate these kinds of games, and I’d rather just rip one of Axel’s stupid lieutenants to pieces with my bare hands to prove my point.
When Slade moves to Iggy’s side, Liam takes his spot between the polar bear and me with a tiny smirk.
“Let them handle it until we’re needed, Salaadir ,” Liam murmurs as he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “They know the players better than us and watching will help us learn who is who.”
Lucas grabs his other hand, giving the Prince a happy grin. “That’s why he’s gonna be a King, you know.”
Damn, he’s so adorable now that he’s all in with Liam.
“Ignatius.” The disdain dripping from the single word is palpable.
Now I know Axel and the mage have tangled before.
Axel’s lip hitches as he looks over at my men with a studied expression, his head barely cocking a bit when he gets to Liam and Kaspar.
“I see you’ve brought reinforcements this time.
Hoping to avoid getting schooled by my children again? ”
Iggy snorts, standing firm as he looks at the jackass with zero fucks to give about our dangerous surroundings.
“Finn, I could run all of your kiddos to the bottom of the ocean before they even got a lick in and you know it. Slade’s the most powerful one and it’s why you keep badgering him to return.
Otherwise, you would have written him off long ago. ”
“He is mine ,” the goofy biker seethes as he thumps his fist on the arm of the throne again. “I will do what I wish with those that come from my seed.”
Oh, ew. Fucking disgusting terminology, no matter how accurate.
“I beg to differ.”
A gasp sounds out and I feel every eye on the room turn to us.
The groupies, old ladies, minions, and sycophants were pretending not to watch until now, but my single declaration has them all ears.
Axel’s gaze lands on me as I join Iggy and Slade at the front, crossing my arms over my chest in my power pose.
My exterior is calm and icy, but internally, I beg Des and my gargoyle to keep their shit in check so I can negotiate.
“Just who the fuck are you to question my authority on my land?”
I have to suppress the urge to roll my eyes at this Game of Thrones meets Sons of Anarchy horseshit.
This ‘land’ is no more his than anyone else’s; the pocket dimension created by whatever indentured magicals they used to create this place for the meeting is simply divvied between the gangs.
Axel might control the docks and all the waters around Bay City through agreements with other organizations, but he’s no feudal lord.
Liam’s family controls a quarter of Faerie, for fuck’s sake— that ’s a kingdom.
What a deluded asshole.
So I grin, then let out a soft, derisive chuckle. My eyes roam from the ground to his face slowly, purposefully smirking as I take him in, then I shrug. “My name is Morgana LeCiel, and Slade is mine .”
The tent buzzes with the sound of people whispering immediately as I knew it would.
My infamy is useful for something in this situation and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to make it work for me.
Axel’s brow quirks for a moment, and Tracer nods at him subtly.
I think the kraken truly likes his brother, but his loyalty is with the gang he wants to lead.
I won’t forget that as we go along, even if I wish Slade had siblings who actually cared enough to support him.
“The Dragon Slayer, huh?” Axel strokes his beard as if he’s thinking about it. It’s a calculated move, I know, because the dumbasses who are trying for his seat in the big chair move slightly closer. It must be a signal, but unfortunately for them, I’m smarter than that and so are my men.
Lucas and Liam step into the weird Care Bear stare line we have going, and I nod. “I haven’t heard that moniker yet, but I’m loath to decry it because it’s true. I sliced off Magnus Corona’s head like a slab of cheddar and they never found where I put it.”
That detail was never released, so I know what dropping it is going to do.
My admission makes the buzz turn to a veritable roar of gossip and gasps rippling through his shitty little court.
The idiotic children move closer again, and now I’ve got eyes on all the Finn progeny, even the ones who might not be acknowledged.
I pegged the hulking twins early on, and the triplets weren’t hard to spot even though they aren’t identical.
But it took my last brash statement to draw out three shifters who have enough of Axel’s features to tell me they’re likely also his bastards, but no one has pushed the issue given the size of his heir pool.
But I still haven’t identified his mother or any of the other possible bio moms, so we’re not safe yet.
Axel claps slowly, his expression sardonic as he continues lazing in the gilded chair. “Very nice. I suppose the Society forced you to keep that little detail under wraps? Won’t you have jailers to answer to after this visit?”
I shrug, reaching down to take my siren’s hand as I stare back at the oaf.
“Possibly. But I’ve never been one to play by the rules and they know it.
They can try to spank me for it, but bigger men have tried that and failed many times.
I don’t bow to mediocrity, no matter what gender or species it comes from. ”
“You will in this tent.” His eyes gleam and shark teeth grow in his mouth as the known children gather on either side of his stupid chair. “I don’t allow commoners to come to my land and not pay penance.”
Before I can retort, Kaspar is half-shifted and standing in front of my family line-up. “I suggest you rethink your words, or you’ll be the next catch of the day.”
“Who is this lizard?” Finn laughs as he looks at his sons in amusement. “Doesn’t he know where he stands?”
Liam grins, a swirl of magic surrounding him as the crown he cloaked before coming in appears on his head. “He is the royal guard of the Prince of the Daybreak Court, and as the only non -commoner in the room, I take exception to your claim.”
That’s when the room damn near implodes with activity and I stop caring about diplomacy.