“Krush, you are king, like it or not. Rath is to be your warlord because he has the ear and the respect of the nobles and the good korabi of Megaris. The two of you will make Megaris stronger than ever, or you will leave it in ruins.”
“Absolutely not,” Krush growls. “I will kill Rath, and I will assume the throne of Megaris, having destroyed this old palace you love so dearly.”
"Krush, there are millions of korabi and humans depending on you to not be absolutely useless. If we have to kill you, chaos will ensue.”
“Then let chaos ensue," Krush snarls. “I will not be a compliant puppet king for you, Tusk."
“Not for me. For the city. For those who need strong and consistent leadership. This is not about you. A king never exists for himself. I know that is a near impossible idea to get through your head, Krush, but your son will not be useful for another eighteen years at the very least. So, if you could get yourself together for a decade or two, I would be much obliged. If not, I will have you in chains as often as is necessary, and Rath will be your jailer.”
Margaret
God, he is sexy when he is disappointed. My emotions have rambled from fear to amusement, horror to desire, in a rollercoaster which seems to be terminating at the station of incredibly wet.
Tusk is the ultimate alpha. He handles these violent, desperate, aggressive warriors like schoolboys. He is more than the power behind the throne. He is Megaris itself.
“I have no desire to be his jailer,” Rath objects.
“I don't care what your desires are, boy. You have shamed me too many times to count.”
There is something personal about the way Tusk speaks to Rath. It is different from the way he lectures Krush. I start to tingle with the possibility of an idea. The ninth son. The one Tusk refused to talk about. Is he sitting across from me right now, with two augmented eyes and a body gleaming with similar mechanical adjustments?
Rath’s eyes might narrow, if they were capable of such expression. He spends a great deal of time emoting with razor sharp teeth and clenched jaw. Lyric notices me staring at him and moves closer, wrapping a possessive hand around his massive bicep. How interesting, to be considered a potential sexual competitor.
I must have changed a great deal in Tusk’s care to appear in such a way. My hair is no longer carefully set, and it has no tints or colors. It is plain Jane brown, curling softly. There are no rollers in this realm. It has been allowed to grow long and it brushes around my shoulders. I have not had access to my normal rouge and color, though I have found a few scraps of makeup which allow me to shadow my eyes and brighten my lips. I like to think I look natural.
“Margaret here, this little human, decided to allow your mate to escape. She is one in a very long line of rebellious whelps who turned on me for no good reason. You are all rebels in one way or another, and tonight, you will all be punished.”
I stare at him as he reaches for me with the apparent intention of punishing me publicly. That I will not allow. Humiliation is not something I will tolerate, at least, not anymore than I have already been humiliated. As his clawed hand comes down around me, I spin to the side, the chair going one way and me going another.
Before either one of us knows what is happening, I am at the other end of the table.
Rath and Krush laugh. I am not laughing. I now find myself facing Tusk, who intends on putting me through one of his punishments, which is sure to be painful and embarrassing. The table between us, festooned with food, and surrounded by korabi and humans of various levels of captivity, makes for a good obstacle, but I know I cannot avoid him forever.
I thought Tusk would be angry at my disobedience. He laughs. “You’re faster than you look, aren’t you, Margaret.”
“I suppose that depends how fast you think I look. I won't be punished. I have not done anything wrong."
Tusk raises a brow at me and folds his massive arms over his equally massive chest. “Do you think defying me in front of these korabi is a good idea?”
“I think whatever you have in store for me, it can be done privately.”
Krush laughs. “You have an upstart human who believes she is better than all other humans. Too good for a public whipping.”
"I saved YOUR son!” I gasp in his direction. “And YOUR wife. Both would be in his custody if not for me."
“Apologies. Mocking him was more important in the moment than considering your needs,” Krush replies with disarming honesty. “Tusk labors under the illusion he can control everything. But he cannot even control you, a human from Earth, as broken a thing as ever existed.”