Eight

KELVON'S POV

The captain of the guards returned a few moments later and I could not help but notice that the man trembled before me, his face pale and sweaty. I could smell the fear rolling off him in waves. My presence alone seemed to crush him, making him smaller with each passing second.

That concerned me in more ways than one. Was the girl not alright?

"My Prince," he stammered, his eyes fixed on the ground. "I checked and I… I apologize for my oversight. There were indeed some humans we missed. But those humans were... detained. For their offenses."

"Offenses?" I kept my voice low, the threat in it unmistakable. "What offenses?"

He swallowed hard. "Disobedience, Your Highness. Refusal to follow orders."

I stepped closer, watching him flinch. "Were there any casualties? You know… Knowing that today was coming?"

"No!" The word burst from him too quickly. "No casualties, Your Highness. I swear it."

The tension in my muscles eased slightly, but the beast inside me remained alert, wary. Something wasn't right. The captain's eyes darted too much, his breathing too shallow.

My father moved to stand beside me, his presence a shadow I could never escape. His gaze slid over the captain, calculating and cold.

"You seem nervous, Captain," he said, his voice deceptively gentle. "I wonder why that would be."

The captain's throat bobbed. "The... the honor of your visit, Your Majesty."

My father smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "Bring out the prisoners," he ordered, his tone lazy but laced with cruelty. "Let's see these disobedient humans."

I clenched my fists behind my back, grateful for the cover of my formal cloak. Every muscle in my body tensed, but I kept my face blank. Years of court politics had taught me well. Never show weakness. Never let them see what matters to you. And most especially:

Never let him see what you care about.

The guards moved quickly, eager to please their king. The sound of chains dragging across stone filled the yard. The other generals paused in their selections, turning to watch the spectacle.

I forced myself to breathe evenly, to stand tall and indifferent like the prince I was meant to be. The beast within me paced and growled, sensing what I feared most.

A line of shackled humans was marched into the yard. Five of them, heads bowed, bodies thin and broken. Their feet shuffled against the dirt, kicking up small clouds of dust. The chains between their ankles clinked with each painful step.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared everyone could hear it. My eyes scanned the prisoners, counting, searching.

And then I saw her.

The human girl that made my blood hot. I remembered her face and her name like it was yesterday. Lilith.

She stood third in line, her eyes tightly shut against the brutal sunlight. Her body trembled visibly, so much thinner than when I'd last seen her and that spoke volumes. Her skin had lost its glow, now ghost-pale and sickly. Her hair, once vibrant despite the filth of captivity, hung tangled and dull around her face. I didn’t miss the pungent smell of dried blood that hovered over her.

My beast thrashed wildly, demanding I go to her, take her, protect what was mine. I dug my nails into my palms until I felt blood well up, using the pain to center myself.

Then my gaze dropped lower, and the world around me seemed to stop.

Carved into the delicate skin of her collarbone were bloodied, broken letters.

"Owned."

Rage ignited within me, so fierce it clouded my vision with red. My beast howled, the sound echoing inside my skull, demanding blood, demanding vengeance. I could feel my control slipping, my teeth lengthening, my nails sharpening to claws.

It took every scrap of willpower I possessed not to transform right there, not to tear apart everyone who had touched her, hurt her, marked her.

"Interesting." My father's voice cut through the haze of my fury. "These are the troublemakers?"

The captain nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty. The worst of them."

My father walked closer to the line, inspecting each prisoner with cold interest. When he reached Lilith, he paused.

"This one," he said, tilting his head. "Open your eyes, girl."

Lilith's eyelids fluttered, then opened. Those cornflower blue eyes that haunted my dreams stared straight ahead, vacant and dull.

"Look at me when I speak to you," my father commanded.

Slowly, so slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his. Something flickered in those blue depths—not fear, but defiance, quickly masked.

My father smiled. "Ah. I see why she's here." He turned to the captain. "Who marked her?"

"I did, Your Majesty." A guard stepped forward, chest puffed with pride. "She was rude to a Gamma of the kingdom and needed to be taught her place."

My vision tunneled, focusing on this guard's smug face. I memorized every feature, every line. He would pay for this. Not now, not here. But he would pay.

"Creative punishment," my father said, nodding with approval. "Though a waste of good skin because she is quite pretty."

The guard preened under the king's attention.

"My son," my father called, turning to me. "Come look at this one. She has spirit, even now."

I moved forward, each step carefully measured. I couldn't walk too eagerly. Couldn't show too much interest. But I also couldn't refuse.

I stopped before Lilith, looking down at her with what I hoped was detached curiosity. This close, I could smell the infection setting into the wounds on her collarbone, could see the fever glazing her eyes and worse, the mate bond clicked and I felt what she felt ten-folds.

"Interesting," I echoed my father's word, keeping my voice flat. "She does have a pretty face and an ideal body but I don’t think I can get past the scarring on her body. She is damaged goods now."

My father laughed. "Sometimes damaged is more entertaining." He reached out, grabbing Lilith's chin roughly. "They fight harder when they think they have nothing left to lose."

I watched his fingers dig into her skin and fought the urge to break every bone in his hand. Lilith didn't flinch, didn't struggle. She must have learned that resistance only brought more pain. Though the mate bond she was currently fighting tooth and nail against told me she just did not have much of a fight left in her anymore.

"What do you think, son?" My father released her, turning to me. "Does that interest you?"

The question was a trap. I could feel it, sense it in the way he watched me, in the calculating gleam of his eyes. I couldn’t tell whan. But I had gave it away and he wanted to confirm if whatever he had made up in his head was true.

"She's nothing special," I said with a dismissive shrug. "I prefer my slaves healthy." I turned to the captain. "Is this all of them? The troublemakers?"

The captain nodded too quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."

"You're lying." I stepped closer to him. "I can smell it."

Fear bloomed fresh in his eyes. "I—"

"Where are the others?" I demanded, letting a growl enter my voice.

"There are no others," he insisted, but sweat beaded on his forehead.

My father watched the exchange with interest, his head tilted slightly.

"Search the cells," I ordered the nearest guards. "All of them."

"Now, now," my father interjected smoothly. "Let's not get carried away. Because it sounds like there is someone else you want to see. The good captain here says there are no others, and I believe him." His smile was all teeth. "Because he knows the penalty for lying to his king."

The captain nodded vigorously. "Yes, Your Majesty. No lies."

That deemed to do it. It felt like that was going to keep my father off my back for the time being.

"Of course, Father."

My father turned his attention back to the line of prisoners. "Well, since they've been such trouble, perhaps they should provide entertainment for our visit."

My blood ran cold. I knew what his idea of entertainment entailed.

"A fight to the death?" General Torran suggested eagerly.

My father considered this, then shook his head. "No. Some of them are simply women. I believe something more... immediate and less violent is adequate." He smiled that terrible smile again while looking at me. I was wrong. The man was not off my back. If anything, he was now standing ten toes down. "Have them flogged. Twenty lashes each. Here, now."

The guards jumped to obey, eager to please their king. They dragged the first prisoner forward, forcing him to his knees, ripping the shirt from his back.

I stood frozen, mind racing for a way to intervene without showing my hand. Before I could think of anything, a guard grabbed Lilith, pulling her forward for the second position.

"Wait," I heard myself say.

All eyes turned to me.

"Yes, son?" My father's voice was deceptively soft.

I forced a cruel smile I didn't feel. "Give me that one. The marked girl." I gestured to Lilith. "I want to see if she screams."

Murmurs rippled through the gathered men. My father's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I thought you preferred your slaves healthy," he said.

"For bedding, yes." I shrugged, affecting boredom. "For punishment? I'm curious about this one's spirit you mentioned."

A long moment passed while my father studied my face. I kept my expression neutral, meeting his gaze without flinching.

Finally, he nodded. "I did not see you as the masochist type but very well. She's yours to punish."

The guard holding Lilith looked disappointed but released her to me. I grabbed her arm roughly, dragging her away from the line.

“Take her to my carriage,” I said to the omega servant waiting near the steps. “Chain her inside. I’ll deal with her myself.”

The omega bowed and reached for her, but before the handoff could happen, my father’s voice cut through the courtyard.

“Hold.”

The air tightened.

I stopped.

So did everyone else.

“Kelvon,” he said, standing slowly. “Let’s not leave anything to the imagination. A preamble, perhaps?”

He stepped forward, all smiles and shadows. “Show us the strength of your discipline.”

My grip on Lilith’s arm faltered.

No.

He turned his head, motioned to a nearby guard.

The man hesitated, then unhooked a whip from his belt. My father took it without ceremony and ran his fingers down its length, admiring the leather like it was a lover. Then he held it out to me.

“Make her bleed.”

The silence rang like bells in my skull.

Lilith said nothing, but I felt her shift beside me. She knew what this was. So did I. A test. A performance. A reminder that I wasn’t untouchable, that I belonged to him before I ever belonged to myself.

I didn’t move.

His eyes narrowed. “Do I need to do it myself, Kelvon?”

Every instinct inside me screamed. My beast tore at my insides, howling to protect her. I could feel my fangs threatening to break skin, my claws ready to shred the whip in half.

But I was being watched.

By my father. By his court. By the guards and nobles and commanders. By Lilith.

And Lilith—gods, she was looking at me. Not begging. Not pleading. Watching.

She wanted to know who I really was.

So I took the whip.

My fingers closed around it like I was grabbing a sword.

I didn’t look at her.

“On your knees,” my father said, voice smooth. “Show the prince your obedience.”

She didn’t move.

I wanted to scream at her not to fight. To just go along with it.

But she stood tall, her spine rigid, her eyes locked on me like she dared me to follow through.

“He is not my Prince.” She retorted. “And you are not my King.”