Chapter 11 #2
He believed that he was taking his mates into his nest, only to realize that he’d been played from the start.
It must have hurt his Alpha pride.
I may have promised not to kill my enemy, but Freya doesn’t understand my friend in the way that I do. We were two lonely boys, clinging to each other because we had no one else.
My Wolf Goddess makes me feel like I am worthy of love when I was taught that I was a wicked beast who didn’t deserve to bond.
Can I become more than death on shadowed wings? More than a destroyer of kingdoms? She makes me believe it.
She has awoken feelings inside me that I had thought long beaten out of me. I can barely breathe when we are apart.
For Lanlin, who was even lonelier and more touch starved than I was, to have been given a taste of what that feels like, then to let him discover on the night of his greatest joy that it was all a lie, will hurt him more than the greatest torture meted out in the Guild of Assassins.
If I lock him up away from his Omega, I won’t be granting him mercy. I will be condemning him to a slow death.
Does Freya understand that?
I shift, suddenly uncomfortable.
Inside me, Hadrian stirs darkly.
Instantly, I slam down, suppressing my emotions.
Feel nothing. Be nothing. Feel nothing…
When the doors to the banquet room slam open, my heart stutters.
Maximinus, my uncle, marches into the banquet chamber. Shadows swirl around him like wings. His magic is a heavy pall.
The laughter and chatter die down.
I sit like a statue, watching Maximinus’ approach.
I notice Ignatius push Aquila away with difficulty, sliding his hand to his sword.
War and Lucius both straighten behind my throne, on the alert.
Maximinus is an Alpha in his fifties with a thin mouth and jutting jaw. The moonlight dyes his silver tunic and cloak like he is stained in the blood of the enemies who he has slaughtered for decades. It shines off his bald head, glinting in his cruel amber eyes.
Maximinus, the creator of magical nightmares. Horror of Bael. Pet-hater.
Although I am the one who is sitting on the raised dais, by the way he approaches, most people would think that Maximinus was the king.
He doesn’t bow or drop to his knees.
Instead, he spins away, gesturing impatiently like I am his servant. “Where are they?”
“Where are they, Your Majesty?” I correct.
Maximinus stops, clasping his hands behind him in a military pose, as if that will intimidate me. “This is the end of a campaign to conquer our final enemy and create our empire. I have been fighting this war since before you were born, boy.”
“And yet,” my eyes begin to swirl, “I am still your King.”
A hushed silence falls over the room.
War edges her sword out of its sheath.
I meet Maximinus’ gaze, quirking my brow in challenge.
Maximinus studies me like he expected me to be shaking with nerves tonight. His spies are everywhere in the palace. He must know how hard I have found being apart from Freya. It will turn any dragon feral to be torn away from their bonded Omega.
My uncle was betting on that; I can see it in his eyes.
My pheromones are wildly fluctuating. Pain tremors through my scent glands. It is a struggle to think or speak.
What serves Maximinus fucking right, however, is that by banishing me to the academy when I was six years old and ensuring that I was trained with military discipline and whippings, I have survived pain now that would have wrecked most dragons.
I can function in the most brutal conditions.
Fuck. You. Uncle.
Maximinus’ eyes blaze, before he forces himself to smile. “Are you quite well, Your Majesty? You look tired.”
“He stayed up last night preparing for the return of the brave wolf spy,” Lucius replies with a cloying sweetness. I glance at the Alphas in the court, noticing that as usual, Lucius’ act is working on them. “What Alpha wouldn’t be preparing a nest for their Omega?”
I note which Alphas nod. Ignatius is keenly memorizing the same thing.
We exchange a glance.
“Control your Omega’s tongue, or I will gag him myself.” Maximinus lifts his hand.
Magic starts to shimmer, as if he’s about to summon metal from the walls to create a gag.
“Touch my Omega,” War steps in front of Lucius, “and I’ll cut off your knot and feed it to you.”
I stand before either of them can go through with their threats. “My mates are about to return in triumph. This is a night for celebration, Uncle.”
“Is it?” Maximinus turns his gaze from War to me.
He stalks onto the raised dais like it’s his and he has the right.
I stiffen.
When War raises her sword, attempting to stand in front of me, I gesture at her to back off.
Reluctantly, she does but she remains in a fighting stance.
“What if your mates do not return? Look outside that window. It’s almost dawn.
” Maximinus pauses, glancing around at the council members, who are hanging on his words — fuckers.
“Then we must presume that they are traitors who have joined with Lanlin Sin. This plan was yours from the start after all, wasn’t it? ”
I stare at him.
What’s he trying now?
Then it hits me, and I sprawl back onto the couch to gain myself a few more moments to think.
Why didn’t I see this coming?
This is his attempt at a coup.
I force myself to sit up straight, leaning my elbow on my knee and propping up my chin. “I didn’t have many good choices. You were going to make me execute my own bonded Omega.”
“It was justice.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”