Page 15 of Bonds of Hate

I clear my throat to speak, but have nothing to say.

Then he speaks the words that send a chill of genuine fear down my spine.

“You could be my heir.”

Lightning flashes in my vision. The sound of rushing water fills my ears.

There isn’t an Alpha in existence who doesn’t crave power. We’re biologically programmed to seek control, to battle for dominance until the pecking order is firmly established.

As a child, I’d technically been seventh in line for the throne by birth order alone. But the biggest dominoes have the greatest tendency to fall in the royal capital. One of my older brothers had been struck on the head as a child, addling him in a way that left him no more advanced than the average toddler. Two others had died mysteriously. Another joined the priesthood and took a vow of abstinence.

Being crowned king isn’t something I’d ever realistically considered for myself, especially not when Ander was still alive.

Birth order is important, but the king’s favor always waxes and wanes. He has announced and then renounced heirs to suit his moods. Before this very moment, I would have insisted on having no particular desire for the throne. Openly stating otherwise would have put a targeton my back, daring too many of my brothers to strike at it.

Leopold didn’t even inherit his throne. He took it. Too many have forgotten that the crown was drenched in blood when placed on his head. Technically, my father could name any of my brothers as his heir without accusations of breaking tradition.

I want this, even though I know damn well I can’t have it.

The knowledge is a weight on my chest, crushing the life out of me.

Heirs don’t last long in Melilla. More than one of the former harem betas might consider stabbing me in my sleep if it meant bringing their own spawn one step closer to the throne.

Leopold continues to speak. I force myself to focus on his words rather than the spiral of my own thoughts.

“I know you’ve had your own struggles with finding the right Omega. The Enclave only sent the one for your approval before you told them to stop bothering. I can only assume their training methods are not to your liking. I’ll admit they do put out the most prim and proper of specimens, don’t they? A desperate beta with something to prove presents a much worthier distraction than a simpering Omega who has been taught that her cunt drips liquid gold.” He doesn’t wait for confirmation that I agree with him, but gives me a knowing smile. He takes a careful of his drink and leans back in the chair. “I’ve come to a decision. Only a prince who has mated an Omega and continued our line with a worthy male offspring will be namedmy heir.”

A burning sensation settles in my chest. Fire in the blood. Desire. Craving. Knowing that I can’t give into it makes the feeling even more dangerous. “Go on.”

“Unfortunately, the Enclave’s ranks have thinned as of late. Their enrollment has been at record lows for years. Most of their upcoming graduates are already under contract, so I’ve come up with a novel solution.” Leopold spread his arms wide, as if making some grand pronouncement. “I plan to put out a call, not just in the capital, but in every part of the country. I know there are unbonded Omegas who have never officially registered or attended the Enclave. Any Omega who presents to the palace will be welcomed into the harem for the selection of my sons. She, or her family, will be gifted her weight in credits from the treasury if she is chosen for a mating contract.”

Desperate families would hogtie their daughters and toss them on the palace steps like suckling pigs ready to roast.

Even with the reward, there still won’t be enough Omegas to go around to all of us. Sure, the chance to become queen is attractive enough to bring them out of the woodwork, but the genetic mutation gets rarer with every generation. There simply aren’t enough of them for every one of my brothers to have one. Joining a pack and sharing is the only option for most of us, even princes.

Few Omegas actually enjoy being shared. Their natural resistance leads to forced submission, which is a turn-on for the nastier Alphas out there. Luckily, there are always betas around to scratch the itch if you can’t bring yourself to share.

Personally, I’ve found betas easier to deal with in almostevery way. Less needy, no pesky scent-matching to confuse what should be a purely sexual relationship and if you get sick of one, you can always easily find another.

The last thing I fucking want is a needy little Omega female skulking around, especially now.

“Have you already talked to any of my brothers about this?” I ask.

“Not yet, but I will.” A knowing smile before the king abruptly rose from his seat. “Let’s call this a little head-start. Just for you.”

He waves a hand in dismissal, granting me a mocking smile when I give him a low bow and back out of the room.

Cillian vibrates with barely coiled energy as he follows me out into the hallway. He’s smart enough to wait until we’ve left the king’s wing to speak, though nowhere in the palace is entirely safe from prying eyes.

“Omegas hold the keys to the crown. I never thought I’d see the day.” His voice is pitched low, lips barely moving. “And all of it, thanks to Prince Ander.”

My gaze flicks over the guards at attention as we pass through the door to the antechamber. “May there be some good to come from this tragedy.”

Cillian makes a strangled noise in his throat and I resist the urge to punch him squarely in the throat. Guards at attention line the hallways and any of them could be a spy for the king.

The investigation into Ander’s death is going to be a problem. I did a decent job with my father of balancing genuine surprise and appropriate grief, but one conversation is easy. Ander and I interacted publicly on only a handful of occasions over the years. It wouldn’t have madesense to fall on my knees and scream my protests to the heavens.

I reacted in exactly the way my father should have expected. I sincerely hope that I imagined the sly knowledge in his expression. If he’d brought up the investigation for ulterior motives, I would have seen suspicion in his eyes.

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