Chapter 188: A Motherfucking Dragon, Actually
The throne room doors swung open, and Tyler Draven walked into the absolute worst thing he’d ever seen.
CRACK.
The whip hit. Guinevere Lunaris was convulsing on the ground.
Cassian stood over her. "You will cooperate or you will get ten more. Do I make myself clear?"
Tyler stormed across the throne room to them. "Cassian, she’s soaking wet, bleeding, and crying. What the hell are you doing?"
"What did I tell you about defending her?" Cassian moved at Alpha speed. His fist connected with Tyler’s gut.
Tyler took the hit with a grunt, but stayed exactly where he was.
"Punching Tyler," Guinevere hiccuped from the floor. "That’s what you’ve stooped to."
Cassian’s eyes dropped to the floor where she was bleeding.
"Tell me, Cassian, do you think Father punches Beta Draven every time Draven disagrees with him?" Another hiccup. "That is the entire point of having a Beta. To advise you. To provide checks and balances. Because no Alpha is correct one hundred percent of the time."
The words landed. For two seconds, the look on Cassian’s face suggested he had never considered that until now. Then his expression turned into a thundercloud.
He mindlinked. Guinevere could tell by the way his eyes unfocused.
He turned to the guards. "Both of them up. I want the room to see her face when they walk in. The man too."
Two guards grabbed her arms and hauled her upright.
Tyler looked at the guards holding her up. Then at Cassian. "You called the whole pack so they could watch you do this? You’re staging this."
"Justice done in the dark is not justice, Tyler. It’s a secret. I don’t keep secrets from my pack," Cassian replied. "Or would you prefer I handle treason quietly, like a coward?"
"Treason," Tyler repeated flatly.
The word hung in the air for exactly three seconds before the throne room doors opened and every key member of the Lunaris pack began pouring in, summoned from their beds by an Alpha command that left zero room for negotiation.
Elders in robes. Warriors in unlaced boots. Advisors with coats thrown over sleep clothes. Maria, the woman Guinevere had saved from Stonehowl, her father’s new wife, entered last. Her eyes found Guinevere, and her hand flew to her mouth.
The doors sealed and two hundred people became an audience whether they wanted to be or not. Every pair of eyes flicked between Guinevere and Kael.
Cassian paced in the front of the room slowly like a man who believed he was moments away from delivering the most brilliant speech in history.
"You are here because loyalty demands it. What you see on the floor are two traitors. The first is my sister. Sold to a dragon house for seven hundred and fifty million gold, a dragon fleet, and a military alliance. She was found tonight on the lakefront."
He paused, letting the room absorb it.
"The Alpha sailed to Velkaris three days ago and has failed to return. The most likely explanation is that he is either dead or being held against his will, managing a collapse of an alliance my sister destroyed by running."
Murmurs moved through the room. Maria’s hand was still over her mouth, and above it, her eyes were filling.
Cassian turned to Guinevere, his eyes cold. "You put your own desires above your pack, and for that I am profoundly disappointed in you. Not only that, it was an act of treason, plain and simple." He spread his arms to the silent crowd. "Tell the pack, Guinevere, where is our father? They would all like to know. As would I."
"I don’t know."
"Ten more lashes then."
The room collectively inhaled as the guard with the whip stepped forward.
CRACK.
The first lash reopened the wounds from the prior round. Guinevere let out a cough. She refused to scream in a room full of people who had known her since childhood.
CRACK.
Tyler Draven stepped forward. "That’s enough. Give me the last eight. I’ll take them."
Cassian’s head turned slowly. "You don’t get to play hero, Tyler."
"This is wrong and you know it. She’s hypothermic, she’s lost blood, and if you finish this she might die on this floor. I will take the remaining lashes. Put it on my record. I don’t care."
"Get back in line."
"Cassian—"
"GET. BACK."
The Alpha command slammed into Tyler. His legs moved backwards but his face was a war zone of rage and helplessness.
CRACK.
They kept coming.
On seven, Guinevere turned her head, and saw the grey man’s eyes were now fully open. She wanted to tell him thank you for saving her. Instead, he wound up in a throne room with a peacocking-prince who was going to kill them both anyways.
The man blinked twice, the daze beginning to clear.
CRACK.
Ten.
Cassian stepped forward, jerking her head up by her hair, forcing her to face him.
"Where. Is. Father."
He shook her with every word.
She looked at him through blood and tears and the swollen mess of her own face, and felt the last of her fear leave. What replaced it was older and colder.
Then she spoke a proverb carved into the foundation stones of every wolf Keep on Nyros, taught in Setharii, the warrior tongue.
"Strike another king’s wife, and you strike the king himself. His answer will come in fire, and it will come for your house."
3
The elder nearest the wall closed his eyes. Two warriors dropped their gazes to the floor.
SMACK.
Cassian backhanded her, still holding her head by her hair.
She was getting the shit beaten out of her in front of her pack, accused of treason she couldn’t remember by a prince who had not earned the throne he was standing in front of. Her emotions had officially floated off into the distance and she did not give a flying fuck.
He let go of her hair and dusted off his hands in an exaggerated motion, performing for the pack like she was dirty.
She looked up at him and switched back to the common tongue.
"You say I am married to a dragon lord. Then you are striking a dragon lord’s wife. You say I committed treason, yet Lunaris law requires a formal charge before punishment for treason. That makes you a regent who just committed an act of war against a dragon kingdom while violating his own laws in front of two hundred witnesses."
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Cassian’s eyes darted to the elders along the wall. Guinevere didn’t need to turn her head to know what they were thinking.
Her brother let out a dark laugh. "The wolf who holds the law holds the kingdom. And right now, Father isn’t here. I am the law."
He crouched down and yanked her chin up so their faces were two inches apart. It was weird. Uncomfortable, sexually charged weird. No thanks. She didn’t know if he meant for that or if he was just overdoing it like a fucking idiot. Either way, she jerked her face out of his grip.
His boot found her ribs in response.
The impact folded her sideways. She hit the stone floor, cuffed hands pinned beneath her, and the breath left her body with a sound that the entire throne room heard and flinched at.
Elder Morath stepped forward. "Prince Cassian—"
"SIT DOWN."
Maria moved towards Guinevere. "Please, Cassian, your father—"
"NOBODY TOUCHES HER." Cassian’s voice cracked across the room. "She has brainwashed every single one of you. The innocent face. The stutter. The tears. It’s all an act." He turned to the guards. "On her knees."
Hands grabbed her arms, pulling her off the ground to her knees. She lifted her head to look at her brother, who then did the most Cassian thing he’d done all night.
He spit in her face. It landed on her cheek and she couldn’t wipe it.
"Fifty."
The guard looked at the whip. Looked at the woman on the floor. Looked at the elders. Looked at Cassian.
He raised it.
CRACK.
Mistake.
Cuffs popped off Kael’s wrists like cheap toys. The room had one second to understand that the man restrained in silver was, in fact, not a wolf.
He was a goddamn dragon and the wrong motherfucker to piss off.
Dragon speed.
SNAP.
Three necks. Same second. One sound.