My grin doesn’t falter, but something inside me goes cold and sharp.
Weak?
She thinksourBrylee is weak? The omega who just took on an entire warehouse of alphas after she was kidnapped? The omega who managed to escape without any help whatsoever? The omega who managed to tame me and my brothers?
The rage is a hot, metallic taste in the back of my throat. I picture the queen’s head on a spike. It’s a pleasant image.
Bad, Kylian.
No murdering royalty.
I’m pretty sure that’s, like, treason or something
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear your opinion on her base instincts,” I say, my voice light and breezy. “Mothers always know best, right?”
She ignores my sarcasm. “This entire…situation…is a disappointment. I had a perfectly suitable alpha team selected for her. A strategic alliance. Powerful, pedigreed alphas who would have elevated this kingdom. Instead, she chooses…this.” She gestures vaguely at me, then at the door. “A pack of mongrels.”
Mongrels.The word hangs in the air.
In my head, I’m not just imagining her head on a spike anymore. I’m imagining those “perfectly suitable alphas,” their throats torn out, their fancy uniforms soaked in blood. I see their faces, contorted in fear as I show them what a real mongrel can do. It’s a beautiful, violent symphony.
Sorry, Brock. You were a good friend, but now you have to die.
Outwardly, I just keep smiling. “Well, you can’t help who you scent match with, can you? The heart—and the knot—wants what it wants.”
The queen’s face is a mask of cold fury. “Tell my daughter she is to report to my study the second she is…finished.” She says the word “finished” like it leaves a foul taste in her mouth. “We will be discussing her future. And it will not involve you.”
“She won’t be finished until this heat has broken, Majesty. And I’m going to make sure I make her come so many times that she’ll never be finished with me.”
Her nostrils flare, and her alpha scent explodes.
But if I were scared of alphas, I wouldn’t make a career out of killing them.
I step forward into her space, pleased to find I loom several inches taller than her. I lean down until we’re almost nose to nose and I can taste just how delicious her fury is. “Brylee is our mate. Not your pawn.”
She turns on her heel and storms down the hallway, her back as stiff as a board. I watch her go, the pleasant fantasy of bloodshed fading slightly. I wait until the click of her shoes disappears completely before I turn and slip back into the nesting room.
The tension has eased, but only slightly. Brylee is still tucked against Colter, but she’s looking at the door with wide, worried eyes. The moment I’m inside, her gaze snaps to mine.
I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, my body sinking into the soft mattress. I reach out and cup her cheek, my thumb stroking her soft skin. The rage from my encounter with her mother is still simmering, but it’s transforming into something else, something fierce and protective and overwhelmingly tender.
“Don’t you worry about her,” I say softly, my voice losing its manic edge. It’s just for her. “She’s gone.”
Luka and Ridge are watching me, their expressions questioning. I ignore them. My entire world narrows down to the omega in front of me.
“She doesn’t deserve you,” I murmur, my gaze tracing every line of her face. The curve of her lips, the sweep of her lashes, the little furrow of worry between her brows. “Not even a little bit.Your parents, the other omegas, the academies, none of them. They don’t get to have you. You’re ours.”
Colter, still locked inside her, shifts slightly. He places one of his massive hands on her stomach, a silent, grounding weight. He agrees. We all agree.
Brylee’s worried expression softens, and a small, watery smile touches her lips. She leans into my touch.
“Yours,” she whispers, the word a vow.
And in that moment, with Colter’s knot still tying her to us, with Ridge and Luka watching over her, and with my hand on her cheek, I know. I would burn this whole kingdom to the ground for her.
She’s perfect. And she’s ours.
26
