Page 39 of Omission

Her mate walks past me and around the desk, she mans, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiles at him before dropping the amusement and typing a few things into her computer.

Over the years I’ve updated our systems. From adding solar to aid our power grid to installing internet access for everyone who lives here. We’ve adapted, as have all other beings, learning to navigate this new world that humans have created.

For money, I’ve invested over the years in hotels and large resorts along the Italian coast. That, and a few Michelin-star restaurants located at the epicenter of our major tourist destinations.

I’ve also partnered with Xadiel in a few infrastructure projects the government has ordained. Years of success have brought in more than enough money to take care of those who call our royal lands home.

To pay them well for the jobs they hold, which are invaluable to keep this place running. From this jail to the on-site hospital and a school, my people have everything within reach they could need.

It’s something I watched my father do, but Xadiel perfected it. You encourage those under your aegis to grow and open stores—to become self-reliant business owners while catering to the growing needs of newer generations.

I’ve expanded our territory.

A full city is hidden within the depths of a charmed forest with protection spells against outside visitors. Unless you are welcomed onto our lands, you’ll never find our home.

Annett and Augusto are two of those people. She’s incredibly smart, a quick-witted and skilled fighter. He’s my right hand, someone I trust completely.

Annett turns her monitor around so I can see the video coming from Ruben’s cell. He’s yelling and trying to use his magic, the initial attempts of conjuring a portal are there but to his failure, he begins to destroy the little we’d allow to be kept in the room.

The toilet attached to the wall had been kicked until it broke, creating a water problem for the floor. The small water fountains for each room were turned off and so was the septic system. Maintenance was called in to fix the issue, and he tried to fight my employee and escape but was tasered and subdued instead.

“He was transferred to the lower levels?”

“Yes, my king.”

“And the other one?” I’d spent time with him yesterday, taking out my aggression on the man who thought it right to try and force my mate into a bond she didn’t want. “Is he awake?”

“He is.” Annett smirks. “He’s angry at being moved from his cell, and into the same one as Prince Ruben of the fae court.”

“Thank you, Annett. I’ll be heading down now.”

“Happy interrogation, Your Highness.”

Tapping my knuckles on her desk, I turn and head for the stairwell leading into the lower levels. While the top floors are sophisticated and run with modern touches to give dignity to those serving a sentence, the underground dungeon is primitive by comparison. These floors are lit by torches and magic, the rooms are held by barriers that stop prisoners from escaping in painful ways, and for these two we’ve treated them to a healthy dose of iron.

The bars. The bed frame. The bowls in which water is provided.

This specific metal is harmful to their kind and the bloodshot eyes that greet me say they’re feeling the full extent.

“Good after, gentlemen,” I greet and Brice rushes toward us, only to be thrown back by the doors ward. His body slams into the rock wall, grunting in pain as he lands on his side. He’s slow to get up, too, limping a bit from his left leg. “That looked painful. I don’t suggest you do that again.”

“Fuck you.” His hiss is followed by a scream; he touches a solid iron pipe on the floor. Almost tripped again from the sharp jolt of pain. Like silver hurts werewolves, this metal kills the fae in a very painful way. “Let me out and fight me like a man.”

“Or I can always come to you.” Stepping through, I crane my head from side to side while motioning with my hand for him to attack. “Let’s continue where we left off.”

The last word hasn’t left my lips when the brute rushes me with everything he has left in him. I won’t deny he’s a skilled fighter, but it’s all brawn and very little brains. There’s not much strategy he uses, throwing his body weight against me and I use the momentum to flip our positions and land on top of him. He bucks beneath me and tries hard to throw me off, but the elbow to his neck causes him to choke.

I add pressure to his windpipe, nearly crushing it, but then pull back and stand. I’m looking down at him as he tries to desperately get air in, rubbing the area with a large and nearly all-black, bruised hand.

Yesterday, I’d beaten both with a hammer after Gabriella described the splotches of purples and green on Anaya’s hips from when she’d changed her.

It looks like someone purposely dug their fingers in and burned her.

And I’d bet my crown he did that. Hurt an innocent woman for his sick perversion.

“Get up.” A solid kick to the midsection has him choking again, a coughing/hacking fit following. My head turned toward his prince. “Is this who leads your military?”

“You cannot continue to hold us prisoner, witch. This is an act of war.”

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