Page 12 of The Omega Thief

Attiker closed his eyes briefly in frustration. It was a year to the day since he’d paid two women to sit with her while he tried to work the fever out of her body. It hadn’t worked. She’d screamed, fought, cried, and then somehow broke off a piece of the wooden bedframe and used it to stab one of the women guarding her when Attiker had gone to get food. She’d run straight back to Gilbertson, and Attiker had paid up another three times since then.

“Ma, don’t you recognize me?”

“Of course.” His ma had giggled again. “You’re the pretty boy I had so much fun with last week.” She’d put a hand on his belly, and her fingers had tried to slide down before he caught it and felt the dry heat in her skin and knew it was too late.

“No, Ma,” he’d whispered, and just then, three drunks came out of the inn, and his ma had turned toward them. He didn’t stay to watch.

“You’re cold,” the prince murmured and took his own woolen coat off, draping it around Attiker’s shoulders. Attiker drew in a breath. The coat had the same scent that he’d smelled all day, and somehow, taking a little more into his lungs eased the tightness in his chest. He didn’t protest when he was bundled into a waiting carriage and held close. He wanted to question why, but he didn’t seem to have the energy to ask, or maybe he was frightened of the answer. He might love this a little too much. It would hurt impossibly when he had to leave tomorrow. When he had to go back to the inn. When the strong arms currently holding him so close would let him go.

Would have to let him go.

Chapter six

RazsentguardswithDavey anyway, wanting proof of Attiker’s mother’s death. He didn’t trust Davey’s word even though the fury from Gilbertson when Davey told him they knew Attiker’s mother was dead was too stark to be faked.

Raz was worried about his bonded. Attiker had barely said one word, but at least he’d gotten him in the carriage without any protest.

“I tried to get her to move in with me,” Attiker whispered, breaking the silence. “But she was addicted to the fever white, and she wouldn’t leave Gilbertson.”

Raz took Attiker’s cold hands in his. “I’m so sorry.” Fever white was the bane of the kingdom. It had originally come from the east plains, and the sailors had brought it in as a strong pain relief. It was expensive, and the plants that were ground to be used didn’t bloom anywhere else. And by the time Raz’s grandfather had realized how addictive to his people it was and ultimately deadly, he tried to ban it, and it simply went underground. They couldn’t stop it being smuggled in, and for every supplier they arrested, another two sprang up.

Its real name was something unpronounceable, but colloquially, it was called fever white because long-term users developed almost chalky white skin around their nose and lips, and the last stage of addiction before death was a fever. Once the fever was on someone, there was nothing any healer could do. He understood what Davey had meant now when he’d said Attiker’s mother had died of a fever.

“She worked so hard after Dad died, but we had nowhere to live, and no big houses would take her with a child. So she went on the streets. Gilbertson runs a lot of girls down by the docks, and he soon had her addicted, as well.”

Raz dipped his head in shame. The wars with Rajpur had taken too much time and money, but the Emir of Rajpur had his eye on Cadmeera as Rajpur had no coastline or easy access for trade. The only pass-through was the Dijan Mountains, which came straight into Cadmeera. The wars had been fought for seven years in his grandfather’s time, and then his father had spent another nine in conflicts before they came to a truce, but it had taken the death of the Emir to make it happen, even then. His son immediately negotiated a truce, but the conflict lasting sixteen years took some recovering from.

Raz had plans, lots of them, to make his people safe and prosperous. He never wanted anyone to have to resort to selling their bodies because they had nothing else to barter with, and poverty gave rebels such as the anti-shifters fodder to spread their hatred.

It was a vicious cycle, and Raz had to make it stop.

The carriage took them straight around the side to the private entrance as Raz had requested, and he got out under Thakeray’s watchful eye and helped Attiker down from the carriage.

“Why am I here?” Attiker said, seeming to shake himself from his memories.

“Let’s get inside, and I’ll explain,” Raz soothed, and he soon had Attiker in his suite. He ordered food and wine and bundled Attiker into a comfy chair. When the servants and finally Thakeray had gone, leaving them alone, Raz took Attiker’s too-cold hands in his.

“What do you remember of this afternoon after you requested a royal hearing?”

Attiker frowned, but he didn’t pull his hands away. “I remember…seeing you.” He looked up. “What happened?”

“Do you understand that I’m looking for my bond mate?”

Attiker swallowed hard. Raz noticed his nostrils flaring a little. His mind might not be certain of what happened, but his body would still remember. Raz reached out slowly so as not to startle him and stroked gently down Attiker’s cheek. Attiker leaned into Raz’s hand, seeming unable to stop himself. Raz knew that bonded pairs needed to touch more than anything, and it was only that Attiker had been so confused and then upset that he’d managed to override his own instincts.

“I get that it’s been a stressful time,” Attiker said quietly. “And I understand why you wanted some relief. What I don’t understand is why you want to see me a second time.”

Raz battened down his anger at the casual way Attiker thought so little of himself. “Becauseyouare my bond mate.”

Attiker laughed. A short, sharp sound that spoke of disbelief. “I think you’re mistaken, Highness.”

Raz smiled at the polite words Attiker had found. He supposed calling a prince an imbecile was a bad idea. “Call me Raz. The rest of my name is an annoying mouthful, and only my grandmother calls me Raz’mar.”

“I like Raz’mar,” Attiker said seemingly without thinking and then flushed. “I mean—”

Raz slid a finger under Attiker’s chin and lifted it until they could see in each other’s eyes. “I’m not mistaken. Youaremy bonded, and I marked you.”

“What?” Attiker’s hand flew to his neck. Raz nodded to the large looking glass in the bathing room, and Attiker rushed over. Raz followed him. He was staring at the mark on his neck. “What is it?”

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