Loriun tried to speak, but his vocal chords were paralyzed. He stepped back to let the pair into the darkened house and gestured at the sleeping man on the couch.
“He didn’t know, did he?” Jaime whispered. “Oh, Beau…”
The older man moved quietly to the sofa and perched himself by Beau’s head, stroking the damp curls. Vuos, on the other hand, turned his dark gaze on Loriun.
“What are you going to do?” His voice was pitched low, so that it wouldn’t carry to the living room.
Loriun shook his head mutely. His thoughts were a snarled wreck of grief, rage, horror, and pain.
“You cannot let him do this.” Vuos’s words felt harsher in Loaish. “You are Beau’s Alpha. You are Mer. We live in the human world and play by human rules, but there are circumstances in which we cannot allow these alien tethers to bind us from doing what must be done. Do you understand me?”
Loriun stared back at the other Alpha. It was permission—no, it was approval.
Vuos glanced over at their mates. “We will stay with Beau. You have until dawn. Go.”
The tide of war in Loriun’s mind was shifting—the rage was burning through any other feeling that attempted to stake its claim. He gave a short nod, but did not immediately charge into the sea. Instead, he leaned around Vuos and pulled open a drawer filled with a mess of paper. Facing off with a man like Ashford Montgomery could not be done with a mere show of force. It was a game of chess, not a street fight.
His fingers closed on an old file, one that had been tossed inside and forgotten for over nine months. Jaime looked up to see Loriun reaching for the front door.
“Where are you—”
“Shh,luae,” Vuos whispered. “We’re going to stay with Beau for now. Loriun has something he must do.”
Jaime’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get the words out, Loriun pulled the door shut behind him. The file fell open in his hands, lit by the porch light.
Jonathan Montgomery.
∞∞∞
The jolt of pain that sailed through Loriun’s knuckles was viciously pleasurable. He felt more grounded as he struck again, nerves reconnecting him to his body.
Just as he was lifting his fist to knock a third time, Jonathan opened his apartment door.
“Mr. Kolhn?” he said, bewildered. “It’s like 11 o’clock, what are you—”
“Do you not pay attention to the news?” Loriun snarled.
The man took a step back, alarm flooding his face. “Uh. No, actually, I don’t.”
“Your cousin.” Loriun pushed past him and stalked inside. “Get your phone and search his name.”
Jonathan fumbled for his phone, trembling fingers tapping the screen. Loriun decided to allow him one minute. No more.
Ashford’s cousin had the same dark eyes, though his were neither cold like Ashford’s, nor warm like Beau’s. They reminded Loriun of an animal—somewhat vacant, yet nervous. As he watched, those eyes widened and the brows above rose in shock.
“Ileana is… And Ashford… What is he thinking?” Jonathan’s face snapped up to Loriun’s, blood draining from his complexion. “Mr. Kolhn, I have nothing to do with my cousin’s politics, you can’t fire me for this, please! I’ve been a loyal employee, and I helped you meet Beaumont, and—”
“Yes,” Loriun interrupted. “Let’s talk about Beau. You told me that Ashford was collecting the profiles of many candidates for Beau to choose from. I’ll give you one chance to tell me the truth.”
Panic flared higher in those big, dull eyes. “Okay, maybe I knew he wasn’t going to show all of them to Beau, and maybe I exaggerated how many Alphas there were, but most of what I said was the truth, I swear. Ashford said he had about four or five candidates, but wasn’t that happy with them, so he didn’t want to show them to Beau and—”
Loriun cut through his employee’s babbling once again. “You believe that? That Ashford wanted to find the best partner for his son?”
“I… Well, why wouldn’t he want…” Jonathan looked back down at the news article on his phone screen. “What else could he have been doing?” His voice was uncertain now, brain almost audible in its whirring.
“Does that look like a man who wanted the best for his Omega son?” Loriun spat, jabbing a claw at the screen.
Jonathan was silent for a few seconds. “No,” he answered.
