Page 15 of Impaled By His Omega Prince
“King Alluin’s messengers have been pestering me over business and Ingred hasn’t done his duties. I cannot trust him to do right by the crown if he cannot deal with his menial tasks now.”
“I cannot be king, Father.” Lumic shook his head. He wasn’t trained to be king. Sure, he had the education, but he preferred the sword. He was no more bookish than Stamel ever thought about being.
“You can and will be. Come home, heal, and let the search for your consort begin.” His father opened the carriage door when a soldier knocked, offering Lumic the nightflower and a dram vial of the honeythistle water.
But Lumic didn’t want a consort. Part of his fading heat told him that he wanted Askara. “I think we should see to this agreement with King Alluin first.”
Chapter Eleven
Askara
No sweeter sound had Askara heard since he’d bedded Lumic last as the clang of gates and shouts of soldiers over the rabble rang out.
Askara’s opponent, a drunken fae alpha bearing a broken horn, seized the moment of distraction to flee, leaving Askara bolted in place, sword gripped tight. His orders were to best his opponent and not to leave the arena until he’d done so.
The haze of smoke and body odor over the rank scent of piss turned steely as blood spilled, and sunderleaf pipes fell, crushed beneath boots.
“Drop the sword, dusk blood!” A soldier shouted out, alpha from the look of his build and armor. From Croatens, Askara recognized by his sign.
“I would if I could, sir.” Askara turned, keeping his blade down, loose hand reaching for his chest to expose his binding sigils. It was of no consequence, though. The movement attracted hostility and with no opponent or orders, Askara wouldn’t fight back. What use was it when he’d rise again come dawn?
The sting of a blade under his arm burned through him and he choked. “Listen.”
Across the room, others shouted, distracting his foe.
Askara had moments before he bled out, and he held them with immense frustration.
“Lumic upstairs. West wing,” Askara said, his lungs pooling with fluid. He didn’t think the sword penetrated that deep, but the impact was enough. “Take him home.”
The soldier, alarmed by Askara’s words, shouted to the others to guard the upstairs west wing for him. And to Askara’sdisappointment, the soldier gave him only a spare glance before running off without even a thanks.
To the moon, he whispered, mouthing beneath his breath,Mother Goddess, moon above. Thank you for saving him.
***
Come morning, Askara inhaled the breath of dawn with a sharp gasp and retched when he spied the bodies around him. Patrons and prostitutes, he’d known for a long time, lay slain in a pile. Arlyth, or what was left of her, spilled out at the side.
He rose with a soft breath, eyes turned up to his other mother. “Mother matron, sun that shines. Thank you for another morning.”
Unlike the moon, she didn’t speak to him as often, but her warm rays kissed his cheeks in a sweet way that he imagined a real mother would have, featherlight and lingering.
“Who goes there?” a soldier shouted as Askara rose, lifting his hands high. His bare feet slipped over limbs as he climbed free and went to his knees. He made a note to ask for his boots back, if they didn’t mind it.
“I am Askara of Liaberos, bastard son of Lyrica, late queen, ward of King Alluin.” His raspy voice cracked over the words as swears and mutters came from nearby, breaking into his field of vision. A gaggle of Croatens soldiers eyed him suspiciously.
“We put the sword to everyone in this pile. How are you unmarked?” The beta soldier, one he’d not seen before, narrowed his gaze.
“I am a prince of Liaberos. My blood is true, and vitalis blesses me.” He coughed and rubbed at his throat, verifying they had indeed at least attempted to ensure he was dead. “I cannot die by the hands of mortals.”
“I wish to test this.” The beta stared him down and drew his sword.
“Feel free to. It is not as if King Alluin has any love lost for me, but Lumic may. Is he alright? Did he make it out safe? Please, that’s all I want to know.” Askara lifted his chin and dropped his arms, staying on his knees to be less of a threat.
The beta approached, sword out, as he pressed the blade tip against Askara’s throat. The cold steel bit, blade stinging. Askara swallowed and took a slow breath. “I will warn you that the angle you’re going for may soil your garments.”
The beta narrowed his eyes and sheathed his sword in a fluid gesture. “You weren’t lying. That was not the face of a male about to die.”
Askara nodded. “All I say is true. If you send letter to King Alluin, he will vouch for my identity. I am prisoner here.”
