Page 64 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
The soft sound of running water echoed in the attached bathing chamber. “Looks like you’re finished. Get out,” he drawled, his tone a warning.
She curtsied hastily and darted from the room. Winter sifted through the papers scattered across his father’s desk. Correspondence, ciphers, all the usual things he’d expect to see. Including a map with tiny marks displaying all of the towns he and Sterling were meant to travel to.
They were supposed to begin in the north and circle back to the castle, visiting the smaller towns between them for a night or two of rest. But the red line trailing between two of those smaller settlements was new. It hadn’t been there when his father detailed the journey to him. He lifted the map and studied the marking closer. The area was one of the more hazardous parts of the road in the center of two mountains, full of jagged rocks and caves where outcast wolves lived.
He scowled and tucked the map back where he’d found it. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter because he and Sterling wouldn’t be partaking in this spectacle.
“Your Majesty,” greeted the guard outside the door.
Fuck.The king was back earlier than expected. Winter slinked into the bathing chamber where the water neared the top of the clawfoot tub. Before he had a chance to turn off the faucet, two voices filled the bedroom.
“Where did the little fucker go?” Valco demanded.
“That’s still being looked into,” said the second voice. Reve had been one of Caston’s assistants. And, since Caston was nowdead, Reve must’ve already replaced him. “Your spies say he returned alone.”
“Good.” The scratch of a quill on parchment filled the short silence. “Once Red Riding Hood dies in the valley, my son’s time will come. I should’ve killed him when he was still inside his mother’s womb.” Rage slammed into Winter at the confession, but he held his wolf back.
There was a pause. “You’re … going to have Prince Winter killed as well?”
“I have no use for offspring who don’t obey. Berriston will be of age soon, and he’s still an heir, bastard son or not. Once Winter’s death is confirmed, he’ll be brought here and do as he’s told. Now go.”
Berriston? He was barely sixteen. With all the women his father fucked, it was no surprise the prince had a few half-siblings, but none of them were ever going to be accepted by the pack. Their mothers were either human or common and no real threat to a true-born heir. His father had lost his mind if he expected anyone to allow thisinsignificant childto inherit the court.
The door opened and shut just as the water spilled over the edge of the tub. “Elvina,” the king growled and stomped into the bathing chamber, turning off the valve. “What the fuck, you little whore!”
“I sent her away,” the prince said, speaking slowly.
Valco straightened, his shoulders rigid. “Winter,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“Well, I’m certainly not yourbastard son.” He pushed away from the wall and prowled toward the king. “But don’t worry. I’ll pay him a visit on your behalf.”
The king moved fast, leaping at Winter, slamming him backward into the wall. His head cracked against the wood and his vision went black for a moment. The smell of eggs andsausage permeated from his father’s breath as he leaned in, pressing his forearm against the prince’s throat.
Winter’s wolf snarled and growled inside him before ripping free. His bones snapped and transformed, his skin giving way to a thick coat of black fur. The force of the transformation knocked his father back and his boot slipped in the water. He fell, twisting to try and catch himself, and cracked the side of his head against the edge of the tub. Winter’s wolf loomed over him, lips pulled back in a sneer, but the king didn’t move as his blood oozed into the spilled water.
The prince lowered his head tentatively until he could hear thethump thump thumpof Valco’s heart. If only killing him would’ve been so simple… The king was a stubborn prick.
A low, angry growl slipped from Winter’s lips as his wolf eyed the vulnerable prey before them.
“Your Majesty?” the guard called through the door. Two footfalls sounded from the bedroom. “Is everything all right?”
Nosy fuck.The guard had to die before he alerted anyone. Winter’s wolf’s nails clicked against the floor as he barreled from the bathing chamber and bounded straight at the guard.
“Gua—” he screamed and tried to bolt through the door, closing himself into the hallway. But Winter was faster. His teeth dug into the guard’s neck, and he dragged him inside. Tendons tore, flesh giving way. The guard writhed as Winter pinned him to the floor until he fell still.
Winter released the nuisance and shifted out of his wolf form, slamming the door. “Sorry about that,” he purred to the corpse, and stepped over him. He lifted the parchment his father had written on before the tub overflowed and scanned the lines.
Make it look like the prince killed her. Bring him back to me alive and in shackles.
That bastard planned to make it look as if Winter murderedhis mate. He clenched his jaw and balled the paper in his handwhile returning to the bathing chamber. His father was on his hands and knees, limbs shaking in his attempt to stand.
“You’re awake,” Winter cooed. He paused for a moment to revel in his struggle, then tossed the parchment at him. “Care to explain this?”
The king let out a laugh that sounded more like a croak. “You’ll hang in front of the bitch’s village for killing her. Cement my commitment to uniting the court.”
“Will I?” Winter said slowly as the king finally managed to sit upright on his heels. “Weak,” he snapped, then kicked Valco in the face.
The king fell sideways with a pained groan. “This is…” He wheezed. “Treason.”
