Page 79 of Bonds of Hate

Logan tenses, the movement so subtle that I only sense it through the line of his body pressed against mine. I risk a glance at his face. If the idea of his father’s censure makes him nervous, his expression gives no evidence of it away.

Leopold continues, his keen gaze missing nothing as he surveys his son. “It’s the eyes, I think. Not the color, of course, but perhaps the shape or the flare of the brow. Yes, there is something of a similarity there. Quite remarkable.”

Logan’s jaw works, but his voice is smooth when he speaks. “Maya is her own woman.”

Maybe he is slightly more of a political animal than I gave him credit for.

“I suppose that remains to be seen.” Leopold reaches out, catching a loose curl of my hair between his fingers. “She still smells ripe. I suppose there isn’t a claiming mark I’ve missed hidden under your mother’s dress?”

Logan draws me closer against him, subtly shifting me out of the king’s reach. “Our mating contract is currently provisional. Given your sterling example, I want to be sure that I choose an Omega truly worthy of standing beside me as a princess of Melilla, much less the queen.”

The smallest eye twitch of his eye is the only reaction the king gives in acknowledgement to the fact that he hasn’t officially named an heir.

“Don’t take too long,” Leopold chides with a cool smile. “It would be a shame if your own inaction allowed another Alpha to claim your Omega out from under you. Despite my best efforts, there simply aren’t enough of them to go around.”

Logan gives his father another bare nod. “As always, I take your council under the most considerable advisement.”

Leopold turns back to the dais with a chuckle. Once settled back on his throne, he makes a gesture of dismissal. “And that is all I can ask of my favorite son. Away with you now and enjoy my party. Music!”

His favorite son.

I expect to see satisfaction in his expression, but Logan’s face is frozen.

The band plays and the surrounding conversation slowly resumes.Logan bows slightly lower than the lasttime, now that his father is out of reach. His grip on my arm is near to bruising as he spins me around.

“Ouch,” I gripe, trying and failing to pull out of his grasp. “That went well. You had better not be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” he bites out, so obviously mad that it would be funny if he wasn’t so downright annoying.

“Oh, really? Is that why you’re about to yank my arm off?”

“Be quiet.” He motions for Poe and Ares to fall in closer, while Cillian sullenly follows behind them. “Not another word until we get to our table.”

I let him practically drag me through the crowd toward the outer ring of tables designated for each prince and their pack, my annoyance growing.

But I hold my tongue like he commanded, if just because we’re in public. No reason to undo the good work I just put in by openly defying him where someone else might see it.

Our assigned table is the only empty one left. Logan practically shoves me toward a chair nearest the wall. He and the others take strategic seats around the table, so they’re between me and anyone who might approach. All their chairs are angled to face the crowd.

“What is going on?”

Ares shoots me a small smile before Poe slaps him on the back and he turns away with a grumble. Poe’s hand rests on his hip at an odd angle, which likely means he is touching a weapon hidden under his clothes.

Logan sits closest to me, so I direct my question at him. “Why are you all acting like we’re about to be attacked?”

“Maybe we are,” Ares drawls and Poe shushes him.

I shove Logan hard enough in the shoulder that he finally turns to glare at me.

“The dress was a good idea,” I insist, confused at their reactions. “The king liked me.”

“Yes, I know the king liked you,” he snaps, looking away again with a deepening scowl on his face. “That’s exactly the fucking problem.”

I follow his gaze to a group of nearby Alphas. I recognize one of them as a lesser prince, who did not get an Omega, but don’t recognize the others. The entire group stares at us.

No, they’re staring at me.

Logan growls and a few of them look away, but not all of them. “The king liked you so much that he put a fucking target on your back.”

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