Page 10 of The Last Strike

“I am much younger than you,” Asher said scathingly, “but you’re the fool to think that makes me stupid. My father taught me well, and my father never submitted to you. Never.” He would not allow the king to insult him or his beloved late father.

“Watch your back, Asher,” the king said before hanging up.

Asher blew out a shaky exhale. James nodded, encouragingly.

“Good job. Now let’s formulate a plan to get Reed,” James said, getting straight back to business.

Asher prayed for some of the calm, levelheaded thinking that seemed to possess James, because right now his mind was reeling. Asher wanted to leave, to take a moment to shake off the king’s words—words of doubt that bubbled below the surface every day, which only made it harder to hear them from Khalil.

King Luang

Luang kept his phone close, checking it periodically even though it was in his hand and he’d hear it if Asher contacted him. The minutes passed like hours, and he supposed no news was good news, but he’d prefer to have that confirmed.

He sat in an armchair in his living room, starting at the television. His favorite football team was playing, but he couldn’t concentrate on the match tonight. He sighed, opening his phone. He noted the time again, surprised Asher hadn’t called with an update. He was just about to call him when his phone started ringing—and it wasn’t Asher.

“Hello,” Luang said, answering the unexpected call.

“Your Majesty, I’m receiving reports of a chemical attack on the city. All teams are responding and victims are being taken to the closest hospital,” his commander said quickly.

Luang sucked in a breath. “Chemical attack? How many?” He couldn’t ask the questions fast enough. He pushed to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him, but he couldn’t sit and do nothing.

“It appears to have been targeted on the eastern side of the city. We don’t know how many yet—maybe a million. The hospitals will be full. We have never seen anything like this before,” he said.

That wasn’t true, but it had been a long time since there had been such a brazen attack on Valencia.

“We will need to set up field hospitals. Coordinate with the emergency response people to get stretchers and tents set up until we can coordinate further efforts. Find out what chemical agent has been used, but deal with the sick first—saving as many victims as possible is our first priority,” Luang said so firmly there could be no mistaking it.

Luang wanted to know what chemical was used, but his gut feeling told him it was sarin, because no one else but Adani would have launched an attack on Valencia. No one else had both the means and the motive.

Luang dragged a palm over his face. He’d known a retaliation attack was a risk, but he’d taken the chance anyway because he feared the future consequences would be worse if Adani gained control of Santina and then additional kingdoms. He’d sided with Asher because of his past relationship with his father, but also because Asher proposed something Luang wished they’d done years ago. If they had—when Adani had been less powerful—they could’ve saved themselves this exact fate.

Luang changed the television channel to the news, not surprised to see the attack was already being covered. Ambulances lined the streets and bodies were filling the stretchers. Luang felt cold and sweaty at the same time.

God help us.

His first thought was to go to the hospital, but that might be exactly what Khalil wanted him to do. The chemical attack might only be the first phase of the plan—and Luang didn’t know how long the chemical remained potent. He would not be able to fight for Valencia if he was ill himself, or worse.

The cameraman changed angles and Luang saw bodies on the ground. Lifeless.

His throat made some kind of gurgling, choking noise and his chest tightened.

He second-guessed everything—every decision he’d made.

Why had Khalil targeted Valencia and not Arinia or Santina?

Luang thought it was either because he feared Luang and his army more—which he should—or they were simply next in line to be attacked. He questioned if any loyalties had been swayed, though. If Queen Victoria withdrew her support for Santina and advised Khalil how strong the allegiance was, there would be hell to pay for all of them.

But if the kingdoms saw this as retaliation—and they would—there might not be an alliance at all. If Adani could do this to Valencia, they could destroy the other kingdoms completely. This wasn’t just an attack on Valencia, but a lesson for everyone watching.

Luang exhaled heavily. He’d expected retaliation on the military at the borders. Hitting civilian cities with chemical gas was horrific, even for Khalil.

But what did Luang do now? If he withdrew support for Santina, it was likely the other kingdoms would too, and then Asher and Santina would surely fall. This was not a fight they could win on their own. Luang thought of King Martin and the moments they’d shared bonding over their responsibilities. They had been more than neighbors; they had been friends. Now Luang felt a sense of obligation to protect Martin’s son and his kingdom.

But at what cost?

Luang couldn’t do it at the cost of Valencia.

His phone rang again and he answered it immediately.

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