Page 45 of Cruelly Fated (Princes of Avari #1)

He tore his lips from mine and shoved me behind him.

An older man in a butler’s uniform knocked, then peeked inside.

“Sir, the king and queen request your presence in the queen’s west room.”

KYON

I waved the servants off and opened the door myself, ushering Allie in beside me. Her grip trembled, but she stood at my side, steadfast and proud.

“What is this?” Father sneered. “I didn’t call for you and your whore . I called for you.” He swirled the whiskey in his glass, still dressed in his royal jacket and full regalia. The party must have ended a short time ago.

“Say one more word about my mate, and I’ll abdicate my title, this family, all of it,” I growled.

A flush of crimson lit the king’s face, a rare crack in his polished mask. “How dare you!”

“Did you say… mate ?” Mother’s frail voice floated up from the settee as she rose. Her skin looked waxy, lips pale—early signs of withdrawal from her herbal regimen.

I softened my expression. “Yes, Mother. This is Allie. She bears my mating mark.”

“Oh.” She clasped her hands together, emotion coloring her face. “That’s wonderful. Oh, poor Catalina… She’ll understand—”

“NO.” Father’s voice snapped like a whip. “There’s nothing to understand. Our son is delusional, a trait he clearly inherited from your side of the family. Go to your room and stay there until you’re feeling better. You’re not fit to be seen.”

A low growl rumbled from my chest. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

He guffawed. “She’s my wife. You have yet to learn how to keep your women in line. Send her away. We have real family business to discuss.”

I tightened my grip on Allie’s hand.

“I have something to say first. Mother, you might want to sit down.”

The king puffed a slow stream of smoke, his eyes narrowing into slits. “You don’t give orders in this house, boy—”

“Torian’s dead.”

The glass slipped from his fingers and shattered against the hardwood. Mother collapsed onto the settee, curling into herself, a raw, keening cry tearing from her throat. Her personal maid burst through the door with a tray of tinctures and calming oils. The sharp, acrid scent clawed at my nose.

“Ugh. Get her, and that reeking mess, out of here,” the king bellowed.

Two male servants rushed in, lifting my mother carefully. I looked away as they carried her out, guilt gnawing at my gut. I hated that she’d lost a son. Hated that I was the one who had taken him from her.

The king poured himself another glass from the bar and dropped into a chair with a bitter scowl.

“Sit. We’ve got more family business to discuss.”

I rounded the couch and settled across from him, Allie still beside me. He glared at our joined hands. He’d always despised public displays of affection. I used to share his sentiment.

I met his gaze and began recounting everything—the blindsiding, the livestream, the hunt. The fight to the death. I had no desire to conceal anything from him. He deserved to know and to share the guilt I now carried.

“So you killed him…” he rasped.

“No, your damn political games did. He loved her. You raised him to be the next king and ripped everything from under him. What did you expect?”

“The club wasn’t my idea. Did he tell you that? Or the online auction? I don’t stoop to filth like that. Torian’s heart and mind warped long ago. Maybe I had a hand in poisoning both of you, but you turned out fine. Loyal to the last drop of our blood.” He took a large swig. “This is for the best.”

A rumble built in my chest. How could he dismiss his own son’s death like it was a footnote?

He caught my expression. “You forget he wasn’t mine,” he said, answering the question I hadn’t voiced. “If your mother hadn’t strayed, none of this would’ve happened. We vowed to stay faithful when we married. I never broke that vow, not once, and I had plenty of chances.”

I believed him. My father’s pride made his word unshakable. Once given in a sacred rite, it became law to him .

“Speak your demands or stay silent forever. I need an heir by my side to legitimize my claim to the throne. But I won’t be held hostage. Not by anyone, least of all my own son.”

I cast a sidelong glance at my girl. “Allie is my mate. That makes her family. She’s under your protection, and when the time comes, she’ll take her place as the next dragon queen.”

He scoffed but waved for me to continue, fingers curling in an impatient spiral. I knew the other clans would fight it. They’d balk at a low-fae queen. If that happened, I might abdicate. I’d always been a reluctant heir anyway. No great loss.

“You’ll find a new enforcer to take my place. From now on, I serve as one of your advisors, but, by all means, please forget to summon me on most occasions.”

A corner of his lips twitched into a rare smirk, the faint scar on his cheek catching the light. He’d once served as an enforcer for his father.

“Lastly,” I said, “the enchanted collars are banned, effective immediately. From now on, young boys will train with dragon whisperers, and our clans will adopt modern methods to calm and merge the dragon and human sides.”

A glint passed through his eyes. “The collar is an ancient tradition—”

“I know you’ve manipulated my mind and used my dragon like an obedience-trained dog,” I cut in. “My memories are returning.”

He dropped his leg from his knee and leaned forward, his tone tightening. “How? The hold that technique has on our minds is…unstoppable.” He sounded genuinely puzzled. But what caught my attention was his choice of words: our minds. Had his father enslaved Father’s dragon, too?

I’d never met my grandfather. Father had challenged him to a death match for the crown years before I was born.

That could’ve been his ending, too; if Torian had bested me, he’d have challenged Father for the throne next.

But Allie shattered that fate. She’d broken the curse and saved what fragments remained of our broken bloodline.

His gaze shifted to Allie. A flicker of something passed over his face—understanding, maybe even reluctant admiration.

I rose and drew Allie to her feet with me, then extended my hand.

He mirrored the gesture and gripped mine. “I now bind you with the sacred promise of the high flame. May the fae gods guide your path, and may the dragon’s fire fill your sails,” he intoned, reciting the ancient vow honored among dragonblooded rulers.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t mess this up,” he drawled, then turned on his heel and headed for the bar, pouring himself another drink—his back to us once more.

I stood there, dumbfounded. Did he mean Allie? Those four words were the closest thing to fatherly advice I’d ever received from him.

A gentle tug on my arm snapped me out of it. Allie, my beautiful mate, mouthed, Let’s go .

I couldn’t agree more.

Tempting fate twice felt like a crime.