15. Chapter 13 Camus

Chapter fifteen

Chapter 13: Camus

E verything in me aches when Arden isn't near me. After returning her to her cell following our time at the bathhouse, I found it impossible to sleep. For the first time since my fangs were just little nubs, I'm not only concerned for myself. I'm also concerned for my mate.

It's exhausting.

I had gone for a hunt after I returned her to her cell and while it bordered on satisfying, nothing compares with being able to sink my teeth into her. And now that she's back on a full dose of suppressants, I can hardly feed from her. It's infuriating. It's torture.

"Where were you all night?" Gormon asks as I climb the stairs to the rear entrance of the castle.

"Hunting. Where are you going?"

"Hunting."

"Still afraid of the dark, little brother?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Shut up," he says as he strolls past me down the stairs.

I've just reached the door when he calls, "Camus..."

"Yes?"

"Watch yourself with that shifter. You're losing your edge."

"And you never had one to begin with, so it'll just level the playing field. Have a good hunt."

I don't let him respond. I've seen the way he looks at Dira. I've seen how much he yearns to complete the bond. But he's a coward. So concerned with what Grandmother will say, he won't do what is in his best interest.

I suck in a deep breath as I approach Grandmother's quarters. Hopefully she's in her room. I need to have a long conversation with her, but every single conversation with her is like a strategy game: shuffling the pieces around until one of us is forced to forfeit.

Knocking on her door, I glance down at my clothes. They're the ones I wore yesterday, and a bit disheveled from my hunt. It's too late now. Seconds tick by and she doesn't come to the door.

Eventually I give up and head to the throne room. There's no need to knock here. Not for me anyway. I push the doors open and find grandmother sitting on her throne and a handful of her subjects waiting to speak with her. Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a brief smile before giving her attention back to the man in front of her.

When he's finished whining, she says, "I'm sorry, Turpin. You know the procedure for this. If your neighbor is doing something you don't like, you have to challenge him."

"Your highness, his a hulkin' minotaur. He would eat me alive! We never should have allowed the shifters and shifter-kin into the damn city."

"The shifter folk bring gifts to the table that we do not possess. It would be foolish to leave them out of the city limits because they make us uncomfortable. He may be bigger than you, but I can promise you that you're faster. Use your own gifts. Win back your comfort. You'll feel better for it.

"Or just continue letting him disturb your sleep, and disrespect your property. It's up to you. But I would be disappointed if you didn't at least try. And I'll remind you since you've never had reason to do one before: challenges need to be sanctioned, and they are never to the death unless a grave offense has been committed. Even if you lose, the worst that will happen is some humiliation. You'll be fine."

While she sounds encouraging, she's essentially telling him to stop being a little bitch. She cuts far deeper with words than with magic; because Stars forbid she get blood on her perfectly manicured hands.

The next few subjects go before her, and it's more of the same. I press my back to the wall and watch, acting uninterested. But watching her handle the small things within the kingdom is always a learning experience for me since I hope to one day take the throne. Even though I have others ahead of me in line, I'm the strongest of the grandchildren.

None of my grandmother's children have any interest in the throne, so it'll be a battle between myself and my cousins. My father never showed a knack for it, and while he seeks power, he would be just as happy having one of his children take over. I hope that my fuckwit of an older cousin, Thallan , decides he wants it. After he stuck his mediocre cock in my mate, I want a reason to relieve him of his fucking head.

Iona of course wants to get her feral claws into the power it provides. But while she's got some cunning about her, she doesn't have the patience Grandmother does. That's how she ended up on trial for treason against Feldorn. And though she's my sister, I have no issues taking her out to make sure she doesn't take rule. She would be worse than the current matriarch, and that's saying something.

The last of the subjects leaves, and Grandmother dismisses her guards. She never leaves them in the room while talking with her family members. She trusts absolutely no one—including me.

"Camus. What a pleasant surprise. I heard you took your little pet to get a bath last night. She didn't run off. It seems you're doing good work with her."

"Well, she's feisty, and she's pissed, but she's not stupid."

"That's yet to be determined," Grandmother says.

She's baiting me. But I've been playing her games way too long to fall for it. It's best I get to the point, because she will lose interest and kick me out if I dance around it too long.

"I have a proposition for you. Arden is royalty. Ardeth is a powerful Ashylan and I believe that she will be—"

"It's highly unlikely that she'll show both traits. You know that."

"Well, I already know she's got a beast within her. I don't know what it is and neither does she. While it's unlikely she'll show any Ashylan traits, she does have a lot of powerful Ashylan blood. There's enough to make her a very powerful fae. Which means she would also be a worthy mate."

While her tells are few and far between, she does have them. She raises her eyebrow a fraction of an inch. Arden is suddenly of far greater interest to her. I was going to tell her about the vampire blood, but showing all of my cards now would be a grave mistake.

"What is your proposal?" she asks.

"Let me take her as a proper mate and—"

"You have never once wanted a mate before despite all of my arguing. Why do you want one now? Especially one who conspired to get your sister killed."

Fuck .

"Because I believe that with some training, she would be the closest thing to an equal I could find. Think about it. Even without access to her magic or her beast, she has gone up against Father and Iona and won both times."

"With the help of the dragon prince."

"And why would he help her?"

I let the question float. I know she's been wondering the same things. There are only three reasons that he would allow a part-human female to dictate his actions, which according to my father is exactly what Zorvan has been doing.

"I know there's a reason, but I'm not sure what it is, and that is precisely why I don't think taking her as a proper mate is a good idea."

"I can train her. I can make her into the perfect royal. She can sit by my side as I take up my place on the council." As I take my place on the throne.

She stares at me, her mind working through the possibilities. Then... "No."

"I've already mated her—"

"Which was pure stupidity. She's causing you to act rashly."

"That was a calculated move. She has the attention of Zorvan, and Zorvan has Livarius under his thumb. By mating her, I've laid claim to her, and if Livarius wants her back, he'll have to challenge me for her. Which will force the Feldorites to come here. Away from their castle."

"It was careless, Camus. Something that I haven't been able to say about one of your decisions since you were a boy. She has you thinking with your cock, and that's not going to get you anywhere. The answer is 'no'. You've already claimed her, but you will be taking a proper mate who you can show to the rest of Solardin. That's the end of it."

"But Grandmother, I think you're missing a grand opportunity here."

I have to change tactics. But if I push too hard she'll know something else is up. When I don't immediately continue, she arches her eyebrow at me in impatience. The message is clear. I'm wasting her time.

I sigh and hold my hands out, palms up, in a placating gesture. "Zorvan brought that human-raised female to Sangaris and was unable to tame her. The girl has never even worn a ball gown.

"Pretty her up. Put her through the training you do with all the lovely young things who are lucky enough to be born of status in Solardin, and show him how it's done. Not only will you have stolen his most prized prisoner, but you'll have accomplished something he couldn't. You'll make her into the polite, obedient royal she was born to be.

"Whatever his reasons for keeping her around, he failed. Rub it in his face."

She considers me through narrowed eyes. "How do I know that this isn't just some scheme to get her out of the dungeon so you can do stars know what with her?"

"Me being able to use her body whenever I want and not have her reek of filth is just a bonus. Think of the humiliation when we bring a prim and proper lady back to his courts when he lost a crass, poorly mannered dog."

The words taste foul on my tongue. She may be crass, but Arden is anything but a dog. And while it started that way, the idea of just using her makes me ill. Arden is so much more than just a place to warm my cock when I'm horny.

I wait patiently for an answer. Dangling this tiny carrot in front of my grandmother is a dangerous game. At any second she could transform into a lion and bite off my hand, unable to be sated by a vegetable. So I allowed her to move the game pieces around in her mind, searching for any possible way this could blow up. She's teetering. Standing on the thin fence between 'yes' and 'no'. I push just a little harder.

"Look, even if she escapes, you have her blood and she's got no powers. She's hardly a threat. And if she acts up, you kill her," I say with a shrug. I have to act indifferent, but internally I'm seething at the mere thought of anyone laying a finger on her. "Once we're sure her spirit is good and broken, and that she's loyal to Solardin, only then we start training her to use her powers. I can't have a magicless mate raising my offspring."

I expect her to stand firm in her decision, but her response surprises me.

"You've always had a mind for subtle political moves, Camus. You behave in a way that tells me you'll do great things. Should I die anytime soon, the throne may just fall to you."

My eyes widen. "I'm third in line."

"But you excel in strategy. Something I cannot say about your cousins. But if you want to rule, you'll need a proper mate. One who isn't part human. Because you cannot show any weakness. And a weak mate does not inspire confidence."

I barely resist the urge to clench my fists. Grandmother knows how powerful Arden is. And I suspect she knows who her father is.

"The girl is your responsibility. You make sure she goes to her obedience classes, and gets to the seamstress. Ensure she takes her suppressant every day. Turn her into a proper Sangarian royal by the time Iona's trial rolls around in three weeks and you'll earn the right to keep her. She does not get her powers back until I say so."

I'm about to thank her but she cuts me off.

"Fail…and she goes back to the dungeon permanently. She won't even be permitted to take baths. She provides an heir. And then, you kill her in the town square and send her head to Ardeth on behalf of Prince Zorvan. I'll even borrow some stationary while we're in his castle to make it look official."

Keeping my face neutral is nearly impossible, but I somehow manage it. My grandmother is the one person who I never show my emotions to because I learned centuries ago that she'll exploit them; just like she does with everything else.

"One extreme deserves another. If I have to remove her permanently if I screw up, then I should get to have her permanently if I succeed. If she becomes court ready by Iona's trial, then I get to take her as a proper mate."

"Fine," Grandmother agrees.

From her tone, she expects me to fail. But it doesn't matter. This is just a ploy to buy us some time, and get her out of the dungeon so we can plan properly. Arden and I will be gone by Iona's trial. If Arden has her way, we'll be back in Feldorn. All she has to do is look up at me with those bright blue eyes and I'll crack like an egg.

I nod and give a shallow bow before turning on my heel to leave. Grandmother calls my name for me to stop, so I pause, and turn halfway to face her.

"Remember–when cornered, a feral animal will attack, and that girl is practically rabid. But if you give a wild animal too much freedom, they will run away. You'll probably never see them again. Be careful, and don't lose my prisoner or you'll find yourself in her place in the dungeons."

"Yes ma'am," I agree, and take my leave.