Page 16 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

Unfortunately, you couldn’t teach common sense.

When the boy had gotten far enough away, Reva looked at Argos. “You know better than to come back here.”

“No kidding,” Argos said flatly.

“Does Boada know?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Reva sighed with a disapproving shake of her head. “I could have told you that would happen. I really don’t know what you were doing, accepting a claim from a Docile. You can’t possibly be that desperate.”

“She’s the queen,” he said, as if titles meant anything to either of them. But it was the only excuse he could give that made any sense. Warriors didn’t marry Dociles—they were too weak and fragile to ever make viable partners.

But he also couldn’t tell her the truth. That Boada had commanded it. That the entire thing was a disrespectful farce that was meant to end as quickly as it began…That part of why he’d accepted was because Theora’s voice made him feel sane. At home. Whole.

Reva approached, and Argos knew it was only because she was about to say something she didn’t want anyone else to hear. Something he’d rather not hear.

“No matter what the rituals demand,” she said quietly, “I know from experience that the first few months are hard—”

“I’m fine, Reva,” he snapped. He didn’t dare growl at his alpha, but they could both tell he was on the edge.

Reva kept his gaze, unwavering, and Argos did the honorable thing and dropped his gaze.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, his voice more level.

She nodded, stepping back from him. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

If he were smart, he would’ve accepted his alpha’s help while she was offering it. But he let her walk away, and now she would shun him, just like everyone else. Until he made things right with a woman who didn’t seem to have any intention of respecting him or his rituals.

He crouched down to gather his weapons—if he took them back to his room to work, he’d at least get a little bit of peace before the storm. Eventually, he’d have to face Boada, but he really didn’t want to have to explain to her why he was back so soon…not yet. Not until some of the shame had subsided.

Something hard hit his back, just missing his spine.

“Docile lover,” came a hushed jeer. Wound on top of wound—as if the woman who’d claimed him suddenly throwing him out hadn’t been shameful enough.

His nose wrinkled with an annoyed growl, and before the Warrior could take another step, Argos snatched up the ankle of the foot that had kicked him. He was met with active growls from a pack of three Warriors. As if they thought their numbers would intimidate him—they were all definitely younger and physically weaker. The boy whose ankle he held remained balanced on his other foot, but drew a large knife. Argos could’ve laughed. He only bothered using weapons with truly formidable foes.

They should have stuck to their petty glares and silence.

Before the boy could do anything with the weapon, Argos bit down on his calf with a quick release—no tearing, no mess, all fangs. Then he shoved the Warrior away from him, letting his venom do the work. Instantly, the boy fell to the ground, gripping his useless leg in pain.

He’d delivered just enough venom to elicit a few minutes of searing agony without the neurotoxic side effects—or, at least, without anything too permanent. He wasn’t interested in the headache Boada would give him for killing one of his fellow Warriors, though this did occasionally happen. Besides, he needed that venom to hunt, and if he used too much it would take another day for his body to manufacture more.

None of his peers were worth that sort of effort.

Anyway, if the bitten Warrior didn’t stop writhing on the ground soon, he might just trigger the prey drive of the Warriors around him, and then it would be them dealing with Boada instead of him.

The other two in his pack stepped forward with active growls to challenge Argos.

“Cease!” came the command over the ruckus. Argos halted, his muscles twitching with the urge to disobey, even if he knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

A few seconds more and he could have released his pent-up magic, instead of swallowing it back. He needed to kill something, badly…but not at the expense of disrespecting Boada.

“Yield,” she said before she’d even reached them, and they and all the Warriors around them dropped to their knees. “Reva,” she added, “take that tiresome boy to his sleeping quarters.”

Her second obeyed without question, dragging the boy Argos had bitten to his feet.

Boada halted before Argos and his two remaining opponents, a picture of power and grace.