Page 11

Chapter

Six

Argus

T he announcement that Freslik was in Merchant Baxia’s house cracked through the parlor, alarming everyone.

Within seconds, half the men and women who had been in the middle of pledging their loyalty to Lord Osric scrambled and scampered for the room’s other doors, and one man even jumped out through a window.

“Stand your ground,” Osric called over the sudden chaos. “If we stand together now, we could avert the war entirely.”

“Hide!” Prince Selle called out to his brothers, dashing to conceal himself behind one of the long, heavy curtains beside the window that the merchant had just jumped through.

“None of this is necessary,” Osric continued to try to rally and calm the disturbed room. “Are we certain Freslik is truly here? Has be brought an army or guards with him?”

I was inclined to agree with Osric’s bid for calm, but those of us who kept our wits about us were definitely outnumbered.

“Quick! Under the table!” Obi called out.

It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t talking to me, but rather to his brother, Misha, who stood paralyzed with fear. Obi grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him under the table, concealing the two of them with the tablecloth, before Azurus could rush to help his mate.

In the end, it might have been a good thing that the omega princes hurried to conceal themselves and that more than half of the merchants and noblemen who had been so quick to support Osric moments before had fled.

When Freslik strode into the room with a look of fury, there were fewer men there to incur his wrath.

“What is the meaning of this?” Freslik demanded, gazing around at everyone as if his look alone could smite them to dust. “What sort of treason do I see before me?”

To his credit, Osric didn’t back down from the accusation, nor did he attempt to run and hide. He stepped forward, drawing Freslik’s attention.

“There is no treason here, uncle,” he said, standing at his full height and looking like a far better leader than Freslik. “There are only men who care about the fate and health of this kingdom and a tyrant who wishes to destroy the very thing he claims to rule.”

“How dare you?” Freslik shouted, so tight with anger that he shook. “Guards!”

I tensed, but quickly realized there was no contingent of guards. Freslik had arrived at Baxia’s house with two guards only. Those men stood close behind Freslik, gripping the swords that were still sheathed in their belts and looking around. They knew they were outnumbered.

A moment later, Freslik sensed he was outnumbered as well.

He dropped into a ready crouch, as if every remaining man in the room would charge at him, knives drawn.

He had no weapon, though. Neither did any of the merchants or noblemen left in the room.

None of us had expected a confrontation, so no one was ready for it.

I glanced to Emmerich, who stood off to the side of the room with most of our other brothers.

Freslik didn’t have a weapon, but unbeknownst to him, there were six dragons in the room with him who could have blasted him out of existence with a single flick of our wrists.

To do so would have been a gross violation of our mother’s rules against causing death and violence, even to our enemies, however.

Whether any of the others understood the nature of the stalemate we found ourselves in or not, I knew something had to be done. Even Emmerich glanced to me to take control of the situation.

I did the only thing I could think of that might help. With an intake of breath and a burst of magic, I transformed myself into my familiar disguise of wizened old Councilor Dormas and took a step toward the king.

As I did, I heard a high-pitched gasp from underneath the table.

Along with it, I felt a rush of shock and anger, along with a fair bit of awe, from my beloved through our bond as he witnessed my transformation.

Knowing the truth was one thing, but seeing it with his own eyes must have affected my mate.

But it was too late for me to regret not making certain Obi knew everything about my disguise before the moment of proof arrived.

“Your Majesty,” I said, approaching Freslik as calmly as I could, all while racking my brain to come up with a likely excuse for my presence in a meeting of traitors that the king would accept.

Freslik whipped around and faced me with wide eyes. “You!” he shouted, balling his hands into fists. “What are you doing here? I should have known you were a traitor.”

“Traitor is a strong word, my liege,” I said, raising a hand as if I could calm the man.

“What else do you call your presence in the same house as the bastard who is trying to usurp my throne?” Freslik demanded, thrusting an arm out violently to Osric.

I was unprepared for the confrontation. More than that, the intensity of Obi’s feelings of betrayal and fear wreaked havoc with my ability to concentrate.

Bonding was supposed to strengthen and benefit both the alpha and the omega in a fated pair, but the sheer volume of unresolved conflict between me and Obi was more of a strain than a blessing.

“This is merely a social gathering,” I said, attempting to influence Freslik’s mind with my magic. “We were merely hearing Lord Osric out and perhaps attempting to cool his ambition.”

Freslik twitched and hissed as my magic wrapped itself around his brain. It was deeply disturbing to watch, particularly when Freslik grunted, “You…will…not…sway me.”

My gut twisted. I should have known after all this time that Freslik would begin to notice his thoughts were being controlled. I should have guessed that he would begin to fight it at some point.

I braced myself for the accusations I knew would follow, but before Freslik could turn on me and call me out for using magic on him, Prince Tovey stepped out from behind Rufus’s tall, broad form.

“Are you a traitor?” he asked me, aghast. “Are you really trying to stop Cousin Osric from overthrowing Father?”

The last thing we needed in that moment was for any of the omega princes to fall into doubt. I was confident Rufus would set his mate straight, but there wasn’t time. Freslik took one look at his missing son and roared with rage.

“Miscreant omega!” he cried out, starting across the room toward Tovey like he intended to wring the poor young man’s neck. “I’ll kill you for your disobedience! Have you been hiding right under my nose this entire time?”

Pandemonium broke out within seconds. The other omega princes leapt out of their hiding places, charging to Tovey’s rescue, even Misha.

All except Obi, that is.

“You’ve been on Father’s side all this time,” Obi shouted at me, storming closer until he stood toe-to-toe with me, glaring up at me. “You should have been protecting us, rescuing us, but you were working for Father all this time, keeping us miserable. Admit it!”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, Prince Rumi stepped toward his father, saying, “You will not lay a hand on any of us! You have made our lives a living hell for long enough, keeping us prisoner, parading us in front of your disgusting friends, giving away our heats to the highest bidder. You are a monster, Father. It is you who will be the one to pay for your crimes.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?” Freslik fired back. “I am the king! I am all-powerful.”

“You could have spared us from everything he inflicted on us with a snap of your fingers, but you didn’t,” Obi shouted at me, dragging my attention back to him instead of the confrontation happening at the other end of the room.

More of the merchants and noblemen who had stayed behind in the parlor began to sneak out as two arguments happened on either side of the room.

More worrying, one of Freslik’s guards rushed out as well, but there was nothing I could do to stop him with Obi venting years’ worth of anger and frustration at me.

“You could have struck Father down whenever you wanted to, but you cozied up to his side and supported his reign of terror instead,” Obi flung the accusation at me, anguish radiating through our bond.

“I did more than you can possibly imagine, Obi,” I told him, fighting not to shout in return. The trouble was that Obi’s anger boiled so hot that it enraged me as well. We were feeding the worst in each other at the most inconvenient moment possible.

I needed to be a part of the other argument happening in the room.

From the sound of things, Osric was attempting to persuade Freslik to step down immediately and hand his crown over, suggesting he would be allowed to live as long as he left the kingdom forever.

Emmerich and Gildur in particular were supporting that argument, but Freslik was being stubborn.

And I was stuck quarreling with a rabid mate.

“What were you doing all this time?” Obi demanded, emotion pinching his face, his eyes glassy with frustrated tears. “How could you leave me and my brothers at the mercy of a man who hates us and who killed my papa before I was old enough to truly know him?”

Grief and misery filled me, leaving me unable to separate Obi’s emotions from my own. Enchanted chains couldn’t have done more to restrain me and keep me from offering any helpful contribution to the mess happening all around us.

“I did the best I could,” I said, hurt that my mate had so little faith in me. “I kept your father from doing far worse things to you than those that you had to endure.”

“Worse than my papa’s death?” Obi asked. “Worse than watching my brothers being dragged off when they went into heat, then picking up the pieces when they were returned, bruised and heartbroken, days later?”