86: The Twisted Triangle

Quincy St. Martin

“This is private. It’s a family discussion,” says King Alexandros while we’re standing just outside the doors of his office.

His golden brown eyes, which, I realize now, are so similar to Æmilius’s, are trained on me.

I hang on to Caspian’s arm and sense that he needs me as much as I need him, and I’m not going anywhere unless he tells me to.

“She’s his mate,” says Queen Sophia haughtily before anybody can say anything. “She has the right to be where he is. She should know how twisted and depraved this family is,” she continues as she walks breezily past him into the office.

The king clearly doesn’t like her remarks or to have me as an audience to the family discussion, but he swallows a retort and follows his mate into the privacy of the office. The heavily ornate doors are firmly closed behind us as we move to a group of chairs and a sofa by the windows and the fireplace.

Queen Sophia sits regally on a wingback chair near the window. King Alexandros takes another chair next to her. Caspian chooses a loveseat directly facing his father, pulling me to sit next to him.

For a while, everybody just sits there. Nobody says anything. I clasp my hands together in my lap, trying not to fidget. Caspian is the only one who seems to make himself comfortable. His body posture seems relaxed, lazy even, as he leans back in the seat with his feet apart.

His need to be touching me has one arm resting on the back of the loveseat with his fingers lightly touching my shoulder. He seems so relaxed that it’s bordering on insolence.

I know enough about Caspian to know that what you see on the outside doesn’t always reveal what he truly feels inside.

At times, he seems most relaxed when he’s angry or looks bored when he’s poised for a fight.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks quietly. His voice is very measured.

“I don’t have to answer to anybody. Not to my son,” announces King Alexandros. “What happened was between your mother and me. It had nothing to do with you.”

Caspian’s body tenses. “Nothing to do with—” He can’t even finish the sentence. He grinds his teeth, and his hand curls around my shoulder. His voice is very low but menacing when he says, “You claim that it has nothing to do with me after tonight? Is it not my life that’s on the line tomorrow? Is it not my mate that I stand to lose?”

Queen Sophia gets up from where she’s sitting to stand by the window. Her face is impassive, which reminds me of Caspian. She’s a concrete wall, an impenetrable barricade. She’s impossible to read when she chooses to not show any emotion.

The king sits tall and proud, but he remains silent. The tension in the room is tangible and suffocating, and I remind myself that I’m here for my mate.

“I met her after I marked your mother. Surely you understand the bond of a mate and the pull of an erasthai?” says King Alexandros. “It’s my burden to bear, not yours.”

Caspian nods. It’s strange how that tiny movement is laced with pain. He straightens and removes his arm from around me as if he’s afraid he’s going to hurt me.

“So you kept me in the dark? I have a half brother I didn’t know about, who despises me so much that he’s very eager to destroy me. Still, that’s not even half of it, is it, Father? All these years, you knew that he and Katya had something to do with the rising rebellion. They were destroying packs and killing innocents, yet you did nothing. Nothing! You were protecting them, weren’t you!?”

“I know no such thing,” growls the king. “I’m your king and your father. Watch your tone.”

“You must have suspected that it was them,” continues my mate, undeterred. His voice is rising. Hurt, anger, and a thousand other emotions are swirling inside him. “You were warned by one of the commanders about a possible royal betrayal. He told you that it was an inside job, yet you ignored it. You ignored the deaths of innocents, your subjects, for them!”

“Enough!” Alexandros booms.

I grip Caspian’s tight fist to remind him to calm down, but he continues.

“Are you even aware of how many of our good men and women died because of the action of those two? Do you even care?”

“I said enough!” roars King Alexandros. His eyes are shiny black onyx when he stares at his son. “If you weren’t my son, I would have you killed for your insolence,” he snarls before he storms out.

My heart clenches and burns. Something inside me hates his words and wants to come out.

Caspian pulls me to stand up with him before he gathers me into his arms. He presses his nose to the side of my head and takes a deep breath.

“Don’t go after the king, my love,” he whispers

Now that he mentions it, it does sound ridiculous. Immediately, I imagine a puny little me going after King Alexandros, the lord of all werewolves and lycans. Ughh! I bury my face in Caspian’s chest.

He pushes me back and cradles my face in his hands. “Only you, my love,” he says.

I can’t read his feelings. They’re all jumbled with mine, creating confusion at this very moment, but the way he’s looking at me shows how much he adores me.

“Let’s go, ~moya printsessa~.”