Page 82 of Saint

“How long are we going to wait here?” Nix broke the silence and asked, only for Juri to give a single shake of his head and say nothing in return. He sighed. This was stupid.

Honestly, he’d been hopeful that West or one of the others would have arrived by now to put a stop to this horror show production gone wrong. Nix had purposefully tipped him off when they’d been leaving, but now he worried West had stepped away from the cameras for a bit and had missed it.

Did they even know Nix was gone?

What if they merely thought he was spending a lot of time with Juri in the dorms?

Shit.

He should have come up with a more solid plan but he’d been working with what he had in the short amount of time he’d had to think.

The doors at the end of the room finally opened, and he tensed when several older men and women poured into theroom, each and every one of them settling a terse look his way before taking what he assumed were their usual seats at the massive table.

Demitrious walked in last, his head held high. He was the only one who looked at Nix smugly, even scoffing at him quietly before sitting in to a high-backed wooden chair. He crossed his legs and addressed Juri. “We’ve been told you have important information for us.”

“This better be the truth,” a woman Nix recognized from the Night of the Nightshade stated in a tight voice. Her mask had slipped off her face while she’d been fucked from behind beneath the main stairwell.

The two of them had made eye contact and Nix had been the first to look away.

If she recalled their encounter, she didn’t let on, sitting poised and graceful, as though she’d never done an indecent thing her entire life and had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“We’re very busy people,” another man, this one Nix didn’t know, drawled from nearby. “And not just anyone is allowed to call a meeting.”

“Yes,” another man agreed gruffly. “This best be important.”

“It is,” Juri said before someone else could speak up. “It’s about the line of succession.”

“What about it?”

“We’re here to prove that Lake Zyair is unfit for the throne,” Juri boldly declared.

“Surely you aren’t suggesting we recommend Beck Bardin to the High Council in his stead?” the woman asked. “His father is currently on the run from authorities. Even if he promises to be impartial and catch Hendrix, there’s no telling what the public—”

“Let’s hear them out, Sif,” Demitrious suggested. “They must have come here with a fully formed plan, didn’t you, boys? By the way, I didn’t realize how close the two of you were.” He stared Nix down. “I wonder what Lake will think when he discovers you’re here speaking against him.”

“It is very unbecoming of a mate,” one of the other men huffed.

“Not as unbecoming as forcing a claiming bite on someone who doesn’t want it.” Juri held Nix’s hand and brought it up to the table so that everyone could see as he offered false comfort. “Phoenix Monroe was taken advantage of by Lake, his choice was stolen and he was treated no better than a sex slave to be shared around with Lake’s friends. This is not the type of leader Tulnirians can look up to.”

“It’s unfortunate if true,” Sif replied, “but that doesn’t solve our problem. Right now, Lake is the only candidate for the throne. We’d be foolish to try and remove him from the running for any sort of reason short of murder of an Order member.”

“She’s right,” another member agreed. “There’s no one else—”

“There’s me.” Juri stared as they room went silent, waiting for his words to process. Then he stood and tapped the center of the table, bringing an imbedded holo-screen to life. Medical records appeared and he flicked his wrist, sending digital copies sliding toward every member. “Here are the documents proving my claim.”

“Good Light,” a man gasped. “He’s of Zyair blood!”

“This means he has a legitimate claim the throne,” another said.

“But he’s a bastard,” Sif argued. “Born out of wedlock. He was never even claimed by his father. This is hardly a good candidate. Demitrious, you must agree with me.”

Demitrious was the only one who hadn’t bothered to so much as glance at the document. Instead, he continued to stare Nix down, making him want to squirm under that intense, mocking scrutiny.

Nix knew what he was going to say before he opened his disloyal mouth.

“Actually,” he pretended to consider it, even though it was obvious to anyone with eyes he’d already made up his mind on the matter, “if it comes down between a bastard and a rapist, I believe the choice is obvious.”

Nix bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from speaking up and correcting him. If he did that, Juri would count that as breaking their agreement and Briant would be in danger.

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