For the King to not only be socializing with two of them was a red flag in itself. Never mind the fact that he was entertaining selling his mate.
Maximus first appeared in his father’s personal study, and then the dining room. Those were the two places the man spent most of his time—the study, to drink and smoke on his pipe, and the dining room because his stomach was bottomless. But the king was nowhere to be found by his eldest son.
Max searched through every wing in the castle, his frustration growing with each empty room. His mind kept flashing to Sin, alone and vulnerable, the anxiety gnawing at him, making his chest tighten. What if something had already happened to her? What if he was too late? He pushed the thoughts aside, trying to focus, but the panic was rising, clawing at the edges of his mind.
His father’s absence—his deliberate absence—suddenly became clear. This was all on purpose, a calculated move, and Max’s fear turned to simmering rage. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he had left Sin alone for longer than he felt comfortable with. He spotted his brother in a hall just as he felt the pang of terror in his chest, and knew it could only be his mate.
Clutching his chest, Max looked back to his brother, who stared at him with smugness, his lips curling into an almost mocking smile that didn’t meet his eyes. Max’s eyes widened as he vanished, appearing within his room.
He could still feel her fear when he looked around and realized his barriers had somehow been broken. Shards of magic hung in the air, dissipating like fading embers, and the remnants of their protective glow flickered before vanishing entirely, leaving the room feeling hollow and exposed.
Digging his nails into his chest, he took in the scene: scratch marks on the floor, peeking out from beneath the bed where she likely hid. His breaths came quicker, each one more labored as the realization crashed over him. His mate had been taken from him, just as he promised her would never happen.
He could smell the scent of two others, his rage building until he roared in pain, his fear for her boiling over. Screams sounded from outside the room, followed by hurried footsteps.
His bedroom door was smashed off the hinges, and guards flooded inside, followed by his brothers. Gideon looked at him in horror, while Oliver smirked.
He was laughing when Max slammed him against the wall, making cracks web around him.
“WHERE IS SHE?!”
“The truth is, big brother, I don’t actually know.”
Max threw him across the room, but his brother scrambled to his feet, staggering as he tried to steady himself. He wiped bloodfrom his mouth, his eyes glinting with hatred. He lunged at Max, fists swinging wildly, and the two collided again, grappling for control. Max’s rage gave him an edge, but his brother fought with cunning, landing blows to Max’s ribs.
They crashed into a table, splintering wood and sending objects scattering. Max roared, finally catching Oliver by the throat, and slammed him back into the wall. Only then did his brother slump to the floor, unconscious. But before Maximus could leave, a sharp pain struck the back of his head, and everything went dark.
When Maximus awoke, his eyes opened to see familiar stone at his feet, covered in stains that could only come from someone’s insides. His arms were suspended, each one chained to opposing walls.
The stench was atrocious. Even with nothing on the floors, the smell clung to the walls of the dungeon, an unmistakable odor that refused to leave without proper airflow. He was in the cells where his father and brother brought villagers to torture.
Sin’s fear had abated, and he wondered if she was also unconscious.
Sin, he called, hoping she could hear him wherever she was.
Nothing.
The dungeon cell opened, and in came his father and a handful of guards, all of them looking at him like he was their next meal.
Max curled his lip as he stared at his father. “You disgust me.”
The King huffed a laugh. “I assure you, my son. The feeling is mutual. If only you had listened to me, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“And what situation is that?”
The guard beside Maximus punched him before his father could answer, a sharp pain fracturing his cheekbone. Max wondered how far his father would go.
“You think you’re the first heir in line for the throne who had a mate? Heavens, even I had one, son.”
Max frowned, worried where this was going.
“I allowed you to keep her as a pet, but then you had to go reveal your plans. You spoiled, ungrateful piece of shit,” the King snarled as another guard walked in, carrying a roll-up bag. He spread it open across the table, revealing all the tools he’d likely use on Max.
Max refused to linger. “Where did you take her?”
His father snorted. “Nowhere.”
Max growled.
