Page 84 of The Omega Thief

“Now I have no idea if that’s true,” Grandmother continued. “But it's also said that a rare white wolf has a connection with the horde and can even speak to them somehow.”

Attiker met Grandmother’s gaze, and she nodded once in satisfaction.

“Of course it could all be nonsense, but you appearing as a white wolf saved by a dragon no one thought existed makes people sit up and take notice.”

“Do we have a target on our backs?” Attiker said quietly.

Grandmother snorted. “Are you serious? There were enough witnesses to see your enemy roasted alive to deter anyone from laying so much as their little finger on you.”

She looked up when a very resplendent new page knocked and entered the room carrying a flask of wine and some tarts, followed by Carter, who stopped and bowed his head. “Your Highnesses, the tailor has finished with the children and would like to see you to fit your coronation robes. I would like the ceremony and guest list approved.”

Attiker groaned, but deciding he might as well start as he meant to go on, he wanted a say in what he was wearing, and there better not be so much as an eleven-hundred-year-old crown in sight.

Razgazedatthetwo prisoners he’d had removed from their cells. Emperor Johannas, who still seemed convinced Raz was going to let him live. And Viscount Harcourt, who knew better but was looking hopeful for a reprieve.

Contrary to popular belief, Raz hated killing anyone, but he knew that according to one of the pieces of advice his dad had shared with him that running a kingdom was fifty percent appearances. He’d read the research on the penalties imposed, including death, and was convinced that the penalty wasn’t a deterrent. It was just a way of avoiding having to feed and clothe an individual in perpetuity.

Raz had a better idea. He knew Attiker would hate it, which was why he was doing it now. He also knew he had an army to win over, and while feeding them and making sure he was less cruel than their previous masters didn’t engender loyalty, he had to set an example.

He’d lost count of the number of times he’d seen his father face an army whose own commander was safe behind the front lines. His soldiers loved his father because they knew he would stand with them. Raz hoped to be half as good.

Thakeray joined him, as did Benta, much to Raz’s disapproval, but the man simply squinted through the eye not too swollen to see through and stood in silent support.

Raz knew that while Johannas was a spoiled noble, he still had a Fenrir. Harcourt was a soldier with twenty years of experience. If he was doing this, it had to be visible. “Bring them both to the palace courtyard.”

He turned on his heel, ignoring Johannas’s protests and Harcourt’s pleas, then strode ahead, flanked by Thakeray and Benta.

He walked to the far corner, took off his shirt, then faced them both. “I, Raz’mar Kinsharae, Crown Prince of Cadmeera, challenge Emperor Johannas of Abergenny and Viscount Harcourt also of Abergenny—” Raz paused, making Harcourt’s change in loyalties known and acknowledged, “to mortal combat.”

Raz waited as both men exhausted their objections, then looked at Johannas. “You have a wolf. I will allow you to shift and at the same time, give my solemn promise not to do so.” He felt Thakeray stiffen beside him, but he stayed quiet. He looked at Harcourt. You don’t have a wolf, but you have more than twenty years of combat experience.” He turned to the quickly gathering crowd. “And to make it doubly fair, I’m allowing you both to fight me at the same time.”

He ignored the scoff—maybe—from Benta and the look of panic on both his prisoners that was rapidly turning to calculation.

“And we don’t have to fight each other?” Harcourt asked.

“No,” Raz agreed. “Once I’m dead, the match is won.”

Raz caught the scent of his bonded and knew Attiker had been told what was happening, but he didn’t look. Keeping these men prisoners for their lifetime was pointless, and execution by another was the same. He’d spent months…years in his father’s shadow, and it was time he stood in his own light.

It was time.

Chapter thirty-five

AttikerwasshowingFlynnand Candy around the parts of the palace he thought they might be interested in after the tailor had made them all stand incredibly still for over an hour. Yesterday, Ash had sent soldiers to rescue the pony he’d left tied up when he had to catch the Neerals, and they’d taken both cats and released them back into the dunes as well so they could go back to their nests.

Laronne had stored some of the antidote he needed and was working on a long-term solution. Apparently, the Emir had visited him while Raz had been sick and told him there was a community of healers in Rajpur that mixed some of the antidote to give youngsters to prevent the sickness in the first place should they be bitten, which was a fascinating idea and Laronne was very excited about it.

Flynn loved the pony, and Ash showed him his own horse, which didn’t scare the little boy at all, and he was thrilled when Ash offered to teach him to ride. After a few minutes, Attiker was carrying Candy because she said her legs were too small, and barely a few minutes after that, she was asleep, so Attiker took her back to Grandmother, who promised she would stay with her while she napped. He knew Grandmother loved having babies to spoil.

Attiker went in search of Raz, only to realize with the guards heading that way, something was going on in the courtyard.

He arrived just in time to hear Raz’s declaration and challenge and wanted to march over there and wring his stupid neck. Two? And one was a Fenrir? When was Raz going to learn he wasn’t indestructible. He pushed past some guards, ready to interfere, when a hand snagged him, and he turned in surprise to see the princess stood hiding under her cloak.

“He has to do this,” she said.

“He—”

“Needs to establish his authority,” a second gruffer voice said, and Attiker rolled his eyes so hard at Draul Eryken he could practically hear them.

---