Page 38 of Omission

Am I a horrible person for not caring about them? If they live or die?

“How can you accept her? Her father killed—”

“This coming from the offspring of a traitorous warlock?” Gabriella comes and stands to the other side of me, her support clear. “Or did you forget that I was best friends with Lilibeth? That I was her confidant before she betrayed our people—my family—for a few gold coins?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. My sister didn’t do anything.” Chiara looks around for support, and only one woman steps up beside her. Their family, it’s clear as day in the facial similarities. “We were framed and hunted by vampires. It’s all lies.”

“So you’re calling me a liar now,” Theodore’s voice thunders as he stares her down, his eyes burning bright red. “That I killed every one of those bastards because I needed to find amusement?”

She doesn’t answer the vampire king. Instead, she changes her expression from viper to demure and gives my mate a small smile. “My king, I did not come here to fight. Please, let’s all calm down and discuss our union—”

“Enough of your bullshit, Chiara. Leave.” If Theodore’s voice scared a few of the witches here, Leonardo’s command had them bowing their necks. Those two words held the command of their king to the fullest extent, and she buckled under the pressure. “You are no longer welcome at my home. On my lands.”

With a whimper caught in her throat, Chiara looked down and turned away from us, but not before glaring at me. The ill intent is there. Her dislike of me is blatant, but beneath it, there’s a woman who feels wronged somehow.

As if I stole from her.

“Who is she to you, Leonardo?”

12

LEONARDO

Five hours ago…

Anaya had been asleep for the last two days now, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion she’d been cat-napping through for goddess knows how long. She needs it, though.

Between healing my uncle, something she’s done often if the conditions we found him in are anything to go by—what happened in Canada—my mate’s been running on empty. We watched her feed a part of herself to save his life, something that left her unable to care for herself as she passed out in my arms. Gabriella changed her and washed her face, making me aware of bruising in a few areas of her body.

They’ve abused her. Hit her.

And yet, she’s proven twice that she’d jump into the fire to save someone else instead of protecting herself. Anaya didn’t have to expose her gift because of a few split knuckles on my hand, but she did. It wasn’t necessary, and I wanted to be angry at her, but it’s nearly impossible to do so when she looks at me with those warm, violet-doe eyes of hers.

When says my name in that sweet, breathy tone.

Not Leo. Not some nickname or Your Highness, nothing, but my goddess-given name.

Moreover, the irony lies in the fact I’ve never been a fan of it, the formality in which people say it, but on her lips, it sounds sexy. Sinful. More so after she admits it gives her butterflies each time.

“I’m in trouble with this one.”

“Did you say something, Your Highness?” Augusto asks from beside me, his mustache twitching. “Who’s in trouble?”

“Mind your business, old man.”

“I’m not old. The missus says I’m distinguished, there’s a difference.”

“She lied to you.” We’re a few feet from the jail and the two guards standing at the post bow their heads in greeting. They don’t move or blink, watching the perimeter for anyone—trespassers—more so since our newest addition entered the building.

There’s been no word on the fallout from the fae realm or the actions the court will take, something I know Anaya worries about. She mumbled about it last night during a fitful sleep, tossing and turning a few times while the words heir and war were on repeat.

I calmed her down as best I could, but the root of the issue would not go away that easily. Nor will I release their new king to wreak havoc on my people or that of my sisters.

The well-lit floor opens to a desk where a woman mans the station today. Her demeanor is serious as we walk closer until a large smile breaks out across her face.

“Your Highness.”

“Mrs. Augusto.” My greeting earns me a snort from her mate and an eye roll from her. It’s been the same since I was a kid, choosing to mess with her and she’d get me back by withholding my favorite pastries as retaliation. “Anything new to report?”

---