Chapter 29 Rhys #2
“Fuck me. Orion?” He threw the girl off him, and a growl grew in my throat at his total-asshole treatment of her. “Alpha fucking Logan of Orion?”
Logan didn’t say a word, but stared as the bear shifter started to haul himself into his clothes. He was built like a small building, with shoulders and a muscle mass that probably required their own zip code.
“Bart! You promised me I’d be next!” a woman’s voice drifted from the hall’s chaos.
She approached, already nude, and started pleasuring herself.
Her iridescent hair gave her away as a siren.
A surprising sight in Dallas, someone must have brought her here intentionally.
And it seemed her evening plans had just been derailed.
“Can’t you see it’s fucking Orion pack?” he bellowed back, wrestling with his pants, which looked custom-made for someone whose thighs could crush small vehicles.
“Alpha fucking Logan is here.” Even though he sounded panicked, his voice had enough authority that I pegged him immediately—an alpha’s son.
Strong, but not Logan-strong. Not even close.
Well, I sent through the bond to Sable, this promises to be educational.
He puts on a good show but I can tell he’s about three seconds from pissing himself, she replied through our connection. What exactly is Orion’s history here?
I looked at her with an eyebrow raised. The north respected us. The south feared us. And their alphas hated us.
Bart approached Logan and gestured toward a side corridor. “We need to talk. Not here.”
He led us down several hallways until we reached a chamber. The magic humming in the walls would have been obvious to a dead man, let alone anyone with functioning supernatural senses.
The moment the door shut, Bart’s composure cracked. Logan’s presence in the confined space hit him visibly—his shoulders hunched in involuntary submission.
“Logan.” The name came out strained. “Goddess, you look exactly like your father.”
“Bart.” Logan’s tone was carefully neutral, but I could feel the alpha power coiling beneath the surface. “It’s been a long time.”
“Very long.” Bart was shifting weight like he couldn’t find comfortable footing. “Back when your father used to drag you to these things…”
“He never dragged me. It was always my destiny.”
Through the bond, I felt Sable’s interest spike. A childhood connection. This just got more interesting.
“You weren’t supposed to come back,” Bart continued, sweating despite the climate control. “The treaty specifically—”
“What is this treaty?” Logan asked.
“The Orion Accords.” The words tumbled out faster than Bart probably intended. “After your father’s death, the Council negotiated the terms. Autonomy in exchange for non-participation.”
Logan went still, and I could tell he was on the verge of bursting. “Explain.”
The single word hit Bart with enough alpha authority that his bear instincts capitulated entirely. He bowed his head.
He bowed his head. “They called it business. No one from the south would attack Orion. Everyone knew you were compromised. The fertility issues, the declining influence in Northern Council affairs… The Southern Council saw an opportunity to restructure certain agreements without… interference.”
Restructure agreements? Sable’s mental voice was full of sharp understanding. They carved up your political territory while you were bleeding out.
Vultures, I replied, my wolf bristling. They waited until we were down, then moved in for the feast.
“A temporary measure,” Bart continued. “Just until Orion recovered from the difficulties. When the situation deteriorated instead of improving—”
“And no one told us.” Logan’s voice could have etched glass.
Bart nodded. “The Council’s vote formalized the exclusion. Granted territorial autonomy, revoked all voting rights and political representation. It was…” He swallowed hard. “It was called an act of mercy.”
The silence that followed had weight. Logan’s power was building in the small space until I felt my spine wanting to straighten in automatic deference.
“Mercy,” Logan repeated, the word barely audible.
Bart looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. “I argued against it. My father and I both did. But the votes were there, and with Orion not participating anyway…”
“Who led the vote?”
The question emerged so quietly it almost disappeared, which made it roughly ten times more terrifying than if Logan had been roaring.
“Cassiopeia pack,” Bart whispered. “Alpha Emmanuel Vex, though everyone knew he had to have some vamp backup. He convinced the Council that Orion’s, um, condition made them a liability to supernatural stability. That exclusion served everyone’s interests.”
They’d expelled us from supernatural governance while we were being attacked, then had the audacity to frame it as charity.
Now I understand the orc’s reaction, Sable said through our bond. You’re not just unexpected guests. You’re supposed-to-be-dead royalty walking back into court.
Fire rose in my chest. And we’re getting our fucking crown back.