Page 48 of Omission: Part 2

I find the asshole in question sitting directly in the middle of the courtiers’ section, a designated section containing three rows of seating for males of an upper rank. No faction representative is here, and there are no visitors or special guests—just them. They’d planned a coup while Anaya risked her left to save Alice, and putting two and two together isn’t leaving an understanding warlock in their midst.

He was a diversion while Silla used these aristocratic suckers as the means to finally take control of the throne. They did all the work, and Marsilla hoarded the reward.But where is she hiding?

It’s not far, though. To her detriment, the years spent taking care of me created a bond—a tie—that allows me to sense when she’s within a certain distance of me. It happens with my brothers-in-law and those closest to me, like Augusto—it’s nothing like what I share with my sisters and much less than with my Anaya—I know she’s within this building.

Signaling with my hand, I hold up three fingers and my guards spread out to protect every possible entryway. Some are carrying swords, while others choose to use nothing but magic or hand-to-hand combat.

A low murmur catches my attention, and it grows the longer my girl and her family are out on that balcony, the chant ofAmeliaandAnayarising in volume and shaking the ground we’re standing on. Their people are clamoring for help. To right the wrongs committed, but they have no idea that changes have already been implemented.

The city has been cleansed of black magic, and there are daily sweeps to keep it that way.

The kingdom has new laws coming into effect by the dawn of day tomorrow.

All the men seated inside this room will cease to breathe unless they bend their knees.

Amidst the screaming and jubilation, my mate walks back in and takes the head seat.

Not her grandfather or her mother, but her. It’s being done this way on purpose—this moment had already been in talks between the trio, but Anaya wanted her mother to be stronger before she walks these halls again. Not that it matters now; all these opportunistic worms did was anger my heart, and the time to end this has come.

Long live my queen.

19

ANAYA

They’re on their way, precious one. Just a few minutes.

Looking out across the room, I’m saddened by the lack of representation in attendance.

All men. All with money.

Not a single representative from a faction or a business owner—anyone other than this lot.

These men have lived the high life while others suffer. Males who do not care about the concerns or needs of their brethren because keeping the status quo is more important. Lining their pockets on the blood, sweat, and tears of those who do not have a voice, or if they do, it’s a limited one.

It’s disgusting. It’s something I grew up dealing with and internally fighting against—to not wake up one day and think this isacceptable. The norm.

“No more.” All eyes turn to me, waiting to see if I’ll say anything else, but I just look at them. At those who came here today to try and steal my maman’s throne—my birthright—to hand it over to the only woman they respect.Why her?

I’ve asked myself that question many times over the years.

Why doesshehave a seat at the table?

Why do they follow her word as if it were Larue’s?

What is she offering in exchange for this kind of loyalty?

“Princesse, what is going on here?” A man stands from his seat, his head held high and back straight. His eyes sweep the room, and when he reaches Leonardo, his top lip curls in abhorrence. “Why have you stormed our sacred grounds with this filth? Your father?—”

“Speak when spoken to, Jean.” His face turns red, eyes narrowing on me, but backs down when my mate takes his place behind my chair. Another sign of his respect and loyalty to me. “Now sit. Not another word until my guests arrive.”

“What guests! This is a—” Lightning strikes a large portrait of Larue, lighting it on fire. It cuts off the protest of another man. I’ve never seen him before, but I do catch an amulet tucked beneath his dress shirt. Like the others worn by the elders, it’s become dull in the days since the blood bank closed.

He’s also younger, maybe my age, and I’m wondering who brought him in.

I watch him while the picture burns bright, and I have no doubt in my mind that Leo is manipulating the contained flames. A theory proven a minute later when I swear a happy face appears within the fire.

Is that you?In response, I get a hand on my shoulder and an opal dagger placed on my lap. Another insult to these men; a woman with a weapon.

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