Page 7 of Impaled By His Omega Prince
Askara huffed. “I’m satisfied he’s half troll. Did you smell his breath?”
Lumic frowned. “I think I must have blocked that memory out. Everything smells of unwashed ripe ass and spent sorvin scale.”
The drugs of choice in the keep were disgusting, cheap, and abundant.
“I envy you.” Askara laughed, but the sound was dry and weak.
“But sounds like you didn’t throw your fight, either.” Lumic sank against his bars, watching Askara squirm and attempt toright himself. With no visible injuries, Lumic had a hard time assessing the damage.
“Nope. Cilan wasn’t around to give me the sign, so I pushed forward, and he called my sigil for it.” Askara raised a limp, weak hand to tap at his chest, where the start of a few sigils marked into his flesh began.
“What did you do to earn a slaver’s etching like that?” Lumic squinted over and frowned when Askara lifted his shirt. The sigils were strained and stretched in an odd way.
“Had them since I was born,” Askara said.
At the admission, it made sense why the markings were stretched. They’d grown with him, the scars tugging in specific ways. It made even more sense why his reaction to the bastard accusation bit him so hard.
He was no bastard but marked as one. He was moonborne, sun fae, and— “You really aren’t a bastard… Who are your parents? Are they of importance?”
“Aye, yer askin’ tha real questions now, maggie,” Fiskin’s gravelly voice spoke up and his suggestive laugh made Lumic’s skin crawl—as did his audible masturbatory sessions.
“King Alluin of Liaberos and the late Queen Lyrica.” The words came free of his lips, small and weak. The admission weighed heavily on him, Lumic could see by his posture alone.
“No princes down here…” Lumic mouthed the words in a gasp. “So, they took the castle from you?”
“My beta keepers left me in their care.” Askara, as if gathering the energy he needed to sit up, did so with a ragged groan. “How did you end up here?”
“Underestimated a matron tree on the verge of seed casting.” Lumic scoffed and Askara nodded.
“What were you doing near a matron?” Askara’s face morphed into something scrutinous.
“Croatens maintains an active agreement with the surrounding nations that we are entitled to the harvesting of invasive flashpine when not under conscription. We keep the trade routes free and in exchange, they buy the lumber and don’t charge us tariffs. Likely because taking money from us is seen as filthy business.” Lumic rolled his eyes.
“Why were you out harvesting flashpine alone? At night, no less.” Askara shifted his body and groaned.
“Wanted to take a flight and clear my head. Check out Alluin’s keep and see how bad things had gotten here.” Lumic turned his gaze away from Askara as he forced himself to breathe slowly, the heaving of his chest a little labored. Guilt rose in Lumic’s throat.
“And you decided to cast your death on a matron flashpine?” Askara gave half a laugh that ended in a cough.
“I was trying to kill the matron before it seeded.” Lumic cleared his throat and lay back on his cot, pawing around for the threadbare blanket.
“Oh.” The quiet way he said it made Lumic turn over to look again. “That’s really kind of you. Brave, too. What kind of death magic do you use to kill it?”
“The kind that’s banned everywhere else.” Lumic scoffed and Askara hummed in thought.
“Well, not like I mind pissing on Alluin’s laws.”
The admission made Lumic chuckle, but too soon made him lower his head in guilt again as Askara rose to his feet to shed his shackles.
“I apologize for what my actions have caused you. Cilan wouldn’t have needed to do that if I—”
“Think nothing of it. He was inebriated and missed his chance to give me the cue. I’m merely happy they didn’t put me against you again. I’d take this pain happily not to slay you.” Askara smiled.
“Flirt.”
“Truly. There’s something about you. And you’re thoughtful in a strange sort of way. I like our banter, at least.” Askara offered a half grin before standing straight and stretching.
“Lookat ye! Puttin moooooves on tha maggie!” Fiskin grunted suggestively, and Askara gave the male a withering look.
