Page 55 of Exiled Heir

“Of course I would never question your loyalty to House Bartlett, my prince.” Leon bowed his head. “But even the most loyal can be tricked.”

“By their own consort?” Cade said, his voice sweet. “Are you suggesting that a consort might trick his master?”

Master. The word wasn’t Cade’s. I recognized it as Leon’s, even as I recoiled from the implication.

“There is only one way to settle this,” Jesaiah said, his voice low and half garbled from his shift.

I braced myself. I didn’t like the speculation in everyone’s gaze when they turned back to me. A challenge had been thrown, but I didn’t understand it.

“He’s telling the truth.”

The quiet voice cut through the tension, and all eyes swung to Jay.

Jay wilted, curling in on himself where he stood against the wall. His voice got even quieter, barely audible. “I saw it. Jesaiah attacked Miles, unprovoked. He drove him into the forest. He must have thought that he killed him.”

I felt the twitch of a frown between my brows before I relaxed my face, masking myself in a neutral expression.

“Everyone knows whosepetyou are,” Jesaiah said. “It is no surprise that you would lie for the prince’s consort when your own master—”

“You dare challenge my consort?” Isaac stood, his chair screeching across the floor. “You challenge the honesty of the prince’s consort and now my own?”

I narrowed my eyes, watching Leon’s expression. His face shuttered, brows drawing together, lips pursed. He stood, and Isaac swung his attention from Jesaiah to Leon.

“Leon, you dare let your consort challenge mine? You know how I should answer this.” Isaac bared his teeth, leaning forward to place both palms on the table.

“Jesaiah.” Leon spoke quietly, his voice controlled. “Kneel.”

Jesaiah’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open. “Master—”

“Kneel,” Leon repeated, his tone even harder.

Jesaiah dropped to his knees, the thud loud on the wooden floor. I winced internally. That had to hurt, especially with his older joints.

His eyes lifted, focused on Leon.

“Master, I only ever strived—” he started.

Leon cut him off. “Silence. Your lies have shamed me and shamed my name. For your offense, you will be punished.”

Jesaiah bowed his head. Frowning, I glanced at Cade. He looked at me coolly, everything in his expression showing bored disinterest. But I could see the glimmer in his eyes, a slight something. Fear? Interest? It was impossible for me to tell.

Leon extended out his hand, and something reflected in the air. It was almost translucent, but when it caught the light, it moved like shimmering liquid.

It wrapped itself around Jesaiah’s neck, winding over and over, then moving down his chest. Smoke began to rise from his skin, and through the clear magic, I could see the welts, the red bubbles of blisters.

I closed my fist tightly, letting my nails bite into my palm so that I wouldn’t reach out and try and stop what was happening. A true alpha would never allow this to happen to another wolf. Even an enemy. If I was half the wolf my mother had been, I would already be across the table, breaking whatever hold Leon had on Jesaiah.

Instead, I dug my nails deeper, until they almost pierced the skin. That was what an alpha would do, but I wasn’t an alpha. I was playing the part of a consort, and that was the only thing keeping me alive.

Jesaiah gritted his jaw tightly, but a trail of blood came out of the corner of his lips where he desperately clamped down on a scream. When it moved to his stomach, shredding the shirt entirely, leaving him half-naked, kneeling on the floor, surrounded by mages who looked on with curiosity, he finally shrieked.

The sound echoed in the room, torn from Jesaiah’s throat. I didn’t want to look away, but I turned, letting my eyes trail over the two dozen mages still seated. Most of them were staring, their expressions ranging from disturbed to intrigued. There were a couple dozen wolves along the walls. A few had covered their faces or looked away. Jay’s eyes were wide, his face pale and mouth open. He reached out but then pulled his hand back.

My eyes caught on Tyson. He was smiling, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing: that he might be enjoying Jesaiah’s pain or that he was looking at this as an opportunity to gain the upper hand in their power struggle.

The cry ended with a gasping keen. Jesaiah panted on the ground, curled on his side.

“Leave,” Leon said. Jesaiah crawled from the room, taking nearly three minutes to get to the door.