Page 187 of The Fallen Fae King

Fuck their plotting.

I have my scheme written in the blood of dragons who lived and died before their birth, and I’ll take my revenge on those who made me watch my lovers die.

I storm into the grand chamber, disguising myself as Aurelius, as I have many times over the years.

No one can tell, apart from the difference in our eyes.

My fae appears to be able to judge best when I am present.

A killer senses another killer.

The bedchamber stinks of myrrh, as well as sprigs of lavender and rosemary that are resting in large marble bowls perched on tripods around the room.

I stalk over the polished marble floor, which is pooled with sunlight that pours through the wide window. I shove aside the silk screen, which is laid with ivy picked out in gold leaf, to unveil Liviana.

The Omega looks up at me, startled.

She is dressed in a simple silver robe. Her long hair is parted into six braids. She appears small in the middle of her large bed.

She is sprawled relaxed in the middle of her bed of golden cushions, feather bedding, and thick pelts. She is surrounded by glittering jewels like constellations of stars: large pearl drop earrings, golden hairpins, a moonstone dragon pendant, emerald arm cuffs, and a silk sash fastened with an amethyst buckle.

My eyes narrow.

The bitch doesn’t look like someone who is being forced into a marriage, but rather someone who is gloating over their plot to seize political power.

Is Aurelius wrong to believe that fucker Aquila?

Liviana’s hand is hovering greedily over a serpent-shaped arm cuff with gleaming emeralds for eyes like she is about to pick it.

“Do you like that one?” I ask, silkily. “It suits you.”

Liviana grabs her hand back, flushing.

“You’re not meant to be here. It’s bad luck.” She glances around, nervously.

“I’ll risk it.”

“Where are my servants?”

“Resting.”

Unconscious.

Liviana studies me like she doesn’t believe my lie.

Then she pulls her act around herself again like a cloak.

“Could you simply not resist seeing me before the big ceremony?” She asks, coquettishly. “Or do you have something urgent to discuss with me, Your Majesty? Maybe about the flower arrangements or the food choices for the feast?”

Is she daring to mock me?

Maybe it’s not only my Omega.

All Omegas nowadays have no respect.

I hold back my growl with difficulty. “We both know that there is no love between us. I will not pretend that our bonding is something that it’s not. Perhaps, however, we can make the best of it.”

Liviana’s eyes light with surprise. “I would like that, Your Majesty.”