The Warrior King's Mate

Chapter 5

Fallon P.O.V.

“You’re seven minutes late!” Milo snaps at Dax as he joins us, half marching, half jogging along the long bridge joining the business and residential buildings of Selinis Castle.

“Can’t just kick a lady out of bed, Milo, what kind of manners are those?!” Dax grins cheekily back, his hair fairly dishevelled but otherwise looking like the perfectly turned-out soldier boy he was.

“s**t has really, really hit the fan, I don’t have time for Girlfriend Number Five right now,” Milo shoots back. Unlike Dax, he looks like he slept in his suit, which his crumpled shirt and dark eyes tell me is likely. Milo works too hard, I think. Maybe I need to delegate some of his work down to Dax.

And watch Milo’s head explode? My wolf, Kane, laughs lowly in my head. He’s right. Removing any of Milo’s precious spreadsheets or invoices from him was tantamount to cutting his fingers off.

“Just walk ladies,” I grumbled. I refuse to be any later for this meeting due to their bickering. An emergency council meeting can never be good, but it looks bad when I, as King of Lunar Kingdom, am late to a meeting held in my own f*****g war room. “Milo, get Romeo up to speed,”

“King Evenard called the council to meet urgently half an hour ago. He’s landing in our private airport. Apparently, there wasn’t time to use the main one – he’s bringing his sons with him and, from what I could tell over the phone, he is incredibly harassed. He is bringing some elder council members with him and asked us to do the same. I’ve invited Elders John, Thomas and Walter to come and sit in on the meeting with us. Dax, I need you to -”

“No,” I cut him off, shoving the ornate double doors to the main castle open with such force, the boom rumbled around in the domed atrium like oncoming thunder.

“No, Your Highness?” Milo’s voice pitches, his various folders nearly slipping from his arms as he pushes his round framed glasses back up his nose.

“No, not those three. Evenard is a sexist bastard, he barely allows women on to his council. If he brings his own Elders, I’d bet Dax’s whole ballsack they won’t be women, so ours have to be. John, yes, he’s the most experienced at dealing with war room meetings, but swap the other two out for women,” I command, the three of us never breaking stride.

“Done. I’ve mind-linked Elders Rhona and Jennifer, they’re on their way,” Milo nods, pushing his glasses to the top of his head and giving his eyes a vigorous rub.

“Please, be so kind as to leave my ball sack out of this,” Milo c***s his head in my direction, rounding the blue-carpeted corner slightly ahead of us to that he is the first to reach the door to my office, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, you Highness,” he smirks, turning the handle and waving Milo and I inside.

“I don’t think either of us would be intimidated a couple of peanuts, do you, Fallon?” Milo shoots back, striding into the office and opening the hidden paneled door behind the sofa to reveal the thick, steel door to the war room. Dax jokingly snarls as he walks forward to type in the code to make the door swing open, bouncing inside to turn on the lights, cameras and recording equipment, while Milo places a folder at each place, following himself with drinking glasses, jugs of water and, off to the side, a large crystal decanter of our best whisky.

“Milo, how many minutes?” I ask, taking my seat at the head of the table, facing the door, considering if waiting for Evenard her is too confrontational. Perhaps the main office would be best for the initial greeting.

“Ten,” he replies, his eyes on his watch. “Rhona and Jennifer are here in two and John is on his way, he is walking with Evenard and his men. No word from your father – should I try him again?”

I nod curtly and take my own phone out of my pocket. No messages, and no returned calls. I tried to mind-link him several times before leaving my suite, as I had every week since he left, but was met with nothing but empty mind-space. Father still isn’t finished with our little quarrel, it seems.

“The old man still not talking to you?” Dax asks, sitting in the seat on my left while Milo takes my right. “You only dethroned him, for goddess’ sake, it’s not as if you took the last slice of pizza!”

“Third time hearing that one, buddy,” Milo shuffles through the papers in his folder, triple checking everything is in there. “Starting to feel a bit worn out.”

“You being the expert on worn out, yeah?” Dax laughs, but it’s tinged with annoyance. “Seriously Milo, are you ill, or are the bags some sort of fashion statement?”

“They’re here,” I growl as voices creep along the corridor towards us. Dax and Milo stand, and I check my phone one last time. No notifications. Sighing, I also get to my feet to greet our guests.

It has been six months. Six long, excruciating months of silence from my father. Shortly before the attack on the boarding school, the rumblings of war had started at our borders with Crimson Kingdom. They began to send more and more warriors to make camp along the entire border, from the mountains in the north to the island packs in the south, and Father did nothing. Scouts were found further and further in our lands with no intel on how they’d breached our borders, nor how long they’d been there. Money wasn’t being appropriated to the front line, the unrest of bordering packs growing every day. The outcry for support was massive and father allowed it to reach breaking point. Apha’s began to meet in secret, a coup was threatened, and I was besieged by the elder councils to act. Father was blindsided, angry that I had betrayed him. Hasn’t spoken to me since. He left the kingdom, taking with him an unfortunate number of loyal supporters, and the castle had felt their absence deeply. It was one of the reasons Milo was so strained, as he and I split the governing of the kingdom between us, while Dax maintained security, our warriors and handled all his own budget. This works well when you’re only looking after one pack as Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. Less so when it’s several hundred packs. In many ways, my share of the workload was lighter, as the endless meetings, conference calls, budgetary work and legal work were physically maintained by me, whereas Milo seemed to work at least forty jobs as the administrative and researcher for all of them. Before anything reached my desk, Milo had done most of the work for me, and it was killing him. Traditionally, the Queen would work this with him alongside a team of secretaries and personal assistants - even my father had nearly forty members of staff doing the work Milo and I were currently fighting. It wasn’t sustainable. Looking over at the man, my childhood best friend, I felt immensely more guilt at his thinning frame and bloodshot eyes than I did about my father’s silent tantrum at having his son take his throne from him.

The three of us left the war room, securely closing the door behind us to allow the meeting a soft start in the dark oak-panelled office. The door opened to admit the King of Onyx Kingdom, our smallest Kingdom in this area of the world, tucked away like the star of a Christmas tree high in the mountains between Lunar Kingdom and Crimson Kingdom. The people there largely kept themselves to themselves, enjoying a type of wildness the rest of us had lost after living for so long in such close proximity with humans. My training as a young Prince taught me the family trees and the traits of all the Royals in the world, although Onyx Kingdom and – at one time – Crimson Kingdom were the only ones we socialised with. I know from my studies that at one time, the Kingdoms were ruled by three brothers, although Onyx Kingdom is the only one to have not expanded their kingdom or wealth in the last two hundred years or so. They kept their traditions – and their wealth – private.

“King Evenard to what do I owe the -” I stopped short, noticing not just the old man and his sons, but his wife, Queen Alexandria, their young daughter Sophie and two omegas enter my office, all of them carrying small suitcases. They were ushered in by three stone-faced male elders. One I recognised as our Elder Thomas’ brother, James – I was right; they were all males. John was the last to enter, closing the office door behind him.

I took in their dark, heavy furs, their long noses, dark – almost black – eyes, and their intensely curly blonde-white hair. The family of King Evenard were pale as snow and looked thoroughly uncomfortable to be standing in my office. Sophie in particular looked exhausted and near tears. Where Evenard looked intensely agitated, Queen Alexandria stood tall and still, any discomfort she felt well hidden under a mask of total calm.

“Er – Queen Alexandria, Princes Kendrick and Kamal, Princess Sophie and their omegas Lorna and Hanna – they have all come a long way, my King.” Elder John looks at me pointedly and I mind-link the only omegas expected to be awake at this hour.

“Good morning, your Highnesses,” I inclined my head in their direction. “Please, leave your cases here in the office. My omegas are on their way to take you to the dining hall where a light breakfast is being prepared for you. After you’ve eaten, they will lead you to your suites, and please, allow them to fetch anything you require to make your stay more comfortable. Evenard,” I turned to the older man in front of me, noting how his brow was beaded with sweat and that he breathed too heavily through his nose. “Are your sons joining our meeting or would you prefer they accompany the Queen and Princess to their suites also?”

“They are to stay with their mother,” he rasped, eyes twitching towards his sons and giving them both a hard look, which they noted and nodded at their father, glowering darkly.

Well, this is...interesting. Kane’s voice slid into my mind. They were expecting to be included in this little chat, I think.

Agreed, it’s odd, I replied. Why is his whole f*****g family here, with a couple of cases and servants?

Maybe he’s moving in Kane chuckled darkly.

There was a knock at the office door which Milo answered. A young woman with curly hair waiting on the other side in uniform, smiled brightly at Milo and then the stone-faced Alexandria.

“Good morning, your Highness! My name is Hera, I’m here to escort you to breakfast” she beamed. When Alexandria made no response, Hera’s eyes flickered over to me, and I nodded subtly at her. Her smile faltering slightly, she turned to the fur-clad queen once more and said, “right this way, your Highness,” her tone more subdued but impeccably polite. Milo closed the door on Evenard’s eldest son, still glaring at his father as he left.

“Gentleman, please, let’s take our seats while we wait for our other elders to join us,” I invited them to sit down on the leather chairs opposite my desk while Milo offered coffees. Evenard does not sit. The man fluffs about, twitching his head this way and that, flapping his arms awkwardly inside the fur coat he still wore as if deciding whether or not to run flat out from the room.

This is a bird-man, not a wolf, Kane growls distastefully, and I admit I’m becoming inpatient with Evenard myself, as his face sours childishly when elders Rhona and Jennifer enter the room, immaculately dressed and ready for business.