Three Alpha Princes for an Unwanted Omega

"You have confirmed the routes?" Ares asked without turning.

"Twice, Alpha. All the men are in place. The rogue king has crossed the border. His party numbers near forty"

Ares’ jaw tightened.

Forty was not a number he should be afraid of but it was the rogue king and he did not want to leave anything to chance.

"Keep eyes on them until they reach the gates," he said. "I want to know every stop they make and where it leads but make sure you are hidden. The last thing I want them to be is guarded."

"Yes, Alpha." the guard bowed his head, turning away.

The door closed behind him.

Ares remained standing by the window of what was now his study, gazing down below. His father had decided to not be in the meeting. In his words, he was going to immerse himself more in the people’s business whilst undercover.

It was an admirable feat for his father and Ares could not have been prouder.

He was nervous.

It was one thing to watch so you could learn and another to be actively an Alpha. He guessed he would have to see for himself if his father’s teachings had yielded results soon.

The announcement that the rogue king, Lucius Veyr was already at the gates and being led inside, came mid-afternoon.

Ares thanked the guard, smoothed the front of his tunic, and walked out of his study.

The meeting room sat at the heart of the palace and Ares took his place at the head of it, empty chairs stretching down either side of him as he waited for them.

The doors opened and Lucius Veyr was ushered in by the guards.

Ares managed to keep his face from showing the surprise he was feeling because he had not expected that the man who was standing in front of him now was someone he knew all so well.

Alistair. He had been hiding right under their noses all along.

And beside him stood Soren, the fucking traitor.

Ares felt his blood heat in his veins. Every instinct in him screamed to reach for the knife at his waist and drive it through Soren’s throat.

But he couldn’t, not anymore.

He was Alpha.

He could not afford to act like an angry son when the lives of an entire territory rested on his decisions.

So he smiled and nodded as Lucius’ stopped in front of him.

"I hope your journey was not difficult," he said, his voice smooth as oil on water.

Lucius’ lips widened too in a measured smile.

"Not at all." He said. "I must thank you also for the provision that has been offered my companions. It is true what they say about the Northern pack hospitality"

"It was no bother at all" Ares nodded.

He did not look in Soren’s direction. In fact, he was going to pretend the man was not even there if he wanted to get through the meeting.

Lucius looked around the hall before his eyes settled back on Ares.

"Where is Alpha Kieran?" he asked. "I assumed he would be here to treat with him."

"I am afraid, my father will not be joining us," Ares said. "I am Alpha now."

He let that sink in, relishing in the surprise that flickered across Lucius’ features which he managed to mask a second too late.

Ares put a hand out for a handshake. "You must be Lucius Veyr."

Lucius took his hand after a moment.

"Indeed I am."

"Shall we sit then?" Ares gestured to the table.

...

"Anything?"

"Nothing." Damon straightened from the wall he had been examining and dusted his palms on his trousers. "The eastern routes are clean. He did not send anyone ahead."

Cassian grunted. They stood in a servants’ corridor at the back of the palace, the distant noise of the arriving party muffled by stone. Between them they had walked every hall, every door, every corner where a spy might hide. They had also taken the routes the rogue king had traveled from the gates to the meeting room, and every place a man might slip away from them.

"Maybe he came in good faith," Cassian said. "A real peace treaty."

"Men like him do not come in good faith," Damon said. "They bring their knives where you cannot see them."

Cassian was quiet a moment.

"I am going to check the kitchens. If he planted anyone, it will be there... ears in every pot."

"Meet me at the center corridor when you are done."

Cassian nodded and left while Damon turned and walked the other way, down the passage that opened onto the gardens.

Damon walked the gravel path slowly, his eyes moving over the hedges, the walls, the shadowed corners where a man might hide.

Then he saw her.

A woman stood at the far end of the garden, her back to him, a flower held beneath her nose and her eyes closed. She breathed it in like a woman tasting air for the first time in years.

Both hands were wrapped around the stem as if she were afraid it would be taken from her. The afternoon light caught her hair which fell in loose strands past her shoulders, and her dress was a fine, deep blue that made her look ethereal.

Damon’s heart stopped.

It could not be.

He began walking toward her immediately.

She spun around when she heard his footsteps behind her, her hands flying to her chest in surprise.

"Ayla," he breathed.

His arms went around her, pulling her into his chest. He inhaled the scent of her hair, burying his face in the curve of her neck.

She was alive. She was here...in his arms.

"Ayla," he said again, and his voice broke on the word. "Goddess. How are you here?"

He released her slowly when he felt her squirm in his arms.

She took a step back, tilting her head as she regarded him with a measured stare.

"I am so sorry," she said. "Do I know you?"