Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Rhene put his hand on Erwan’s in a quiet signal for him to wait. Fergal seemed nice, but so had the Murphys in the beginning, and look how that had turned out. Rhene wasn’t telling the man anything until he knew for a fact he was a true ally and wasn’t gonna stab him in the back later on.

He quirked an eyebrow at Fergal. “No offense, but how do we know we can trust you? We don’t know the first thing about you.”

“Right. No offense taken.” He got up and stepped in front of Erwan. “You have my permission to scan me.”

Crap. Fallon had tried to teach Erwan how to scan people, but he still wasn’t very good at it. Did Fergal realize that? Or was this some test to see if Erwan had weaknesses?

Erwan stood, looking paler than usual, and with a shaky voice said, “Thank you for that privilege.”

His hands trembled a little as he held them alongside Fergal, then closed his eyes. He whispered something Rhene couldn’t make out as he slowly moved his hands downward. Fergal stood patiently, even when Erwan took longer than must’ve been normal. Finally, Erwan opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “You value truth and justice.”

Fergal nodded. “I do.”

“And you have…” Erwan looked at Gregor, then back at Fergal, whose cheeks grew red. “Never mind.”

Fergal raised his chin. “I trust that was enough proof of my intentions?”

“Aye, it was. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

A female omega entered, carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. “Tea, Your Majesty?” she meekly asked Erwan.

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

“And you, Your Highness?”

Your Highness? Why was the omega addressing Rhene like that?

Fergal chuckled. “I take it you’re not used to such formalities, eh? Shondra is addressing you the way one should the consort of a king.”

Right. He was Erwan’s consort here, not pack alpha. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He turned to the poor omega, whose cheeks had grown red. “I’d love some tea, please. Thank you. And sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you did anything wrong.”

She sought eye contact with Fergal, who smiled at her. “She’s not used to alphas apologizing. Yet.”

Yet? What did he mean by that? “You don’t apologize to others when you screw up?” Rhene asked.

“Oh, I do…but I’ve only been king for two months, so they’re not used to me yet.”

“Your father was different, then?”

Fergal’s smile faded. “My father was a complicated man with many terrible traits and weaknesses…and history will have to be the judge if his good sides were enough to redeem him. That’s not up to me to say.”

“You seem young to be king,” Erwan remarked.

“Twenty-six, so yes, I am. I wasn’t due to follow in my father’s footsteps for another hundred years at least, but an ambush had taken his life and that of my uncle. The dragon slayers murdered them.”

The dragon slayers? They hadn’t come across them since that night of the attack. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Erwan said. “We had a run-in with them as well last year. The Murphys came to our aid.”

“The Murphys helped you?”

“Aye, and no, we don’t understand their reasons either. And by the way, it was Cladhaire who tipped them off about my location.”

“You don’t refer to him as your father.”

“He doesn’t deserve that honor. He tried to kill me and have me killed, and I know he has blood on his hands from murdering others. That makes it hard to bestow any parental titles upon him.”

“Fair enough.” Fergal looked at them expectantly.

Rhene took a deep breath. “It all started when one of the omegas in my pack went missing.”

For the next hour, he and Erwan talked, explaining everything they’d experienced since the day they’d met. Fergal asked clarifying questions, and in the background, Gregor was listening too, but if Fergal trusted him, they had to do the same.

When they were done, Fergal whistled between his teeth. “Holy shit, that’s quite the story.”

“But you believe us?” Erwan asked.

“As the White Dragon, you’re incapable of deceit, but even without that, I would have. If only because it’s far too convoluted and fucked up to come up with on your own.”

Erwan chuckled. “Thank you?”

“I thought shit was bad in my clan, but this is taking things to a whole other level.”

“Trust me, we weren’t trying to make it a competition,” Erwan said dryly.

“No, I didn’t think you were.”

Rhene leaned forward. “Our biggest challenge is that we still feel like we’re flying blind. Because Erwan was kept away from any knowledge and we couldn’t trust the Murphys, we have big gaps in what we know.”

“I know the feeling. We have been trying to piece things together as well, but we still have a lot of questions.”

Rhene frowned. “We?”

Fergal waved with his hand. “Gregor and I. He’s the only person in the whole world I trust, and I mean that literally. No offense.”

“None taken. I like you and am willing to give trusting you a shot, but we’re still a long way from trusting you with our lives.”

“Exactly.”

Rhene sighed. “The problem is that we don’t know what we don’t know, if that makes sense. We’ve been trying to piece things together, but it’s hard to figure out what’s missing.”

“Yup, sounds familiar.”

“If I may make a suggestion?” Gregor took a step forward.

Fergal rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, sit down with us. I don’t know why you insist on hovering like some servant when I’ve told you repeatedly I want you to have a seat at the table.”

A muscle in Gregor’s jaw ticked. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And stop calling me that.”

Rhene pressed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing.

“As you wish, Fergal.” Gregor’s eyes were spewing fire, and he looked like he wanted to put Fergal over his knee and spank that attitude right out of him, but the man kept his composure. Kudos to him.

“What was your suggestion?” Rhene asked when Gregor had taken his seat.

“When unraveling a knot, I always start at the beginning, and I would recommend doing the same here.”

“The beginning…” Rhene scratched his chin. “But where did it all begin?”

“With the alliance between the dragons and the wolves,” Erwan said softly. “It all started with the pact between King Laoch and Olaf in 840.”

Gregor nodded. “I think you’re right, Your Majesty.”

“Could I persuade you to call me Erwan? Please? My mate and I despise these formalities.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Gregor said.

Fergal harrumphed. “But when I ask, you make an issue out of it?”

“He asked nicely and said please. You may want to consider that next time, see if the result is different.”

Fergal pouted. “I’m always nice to you.”

“That depends on your definition of nice, I suppose,” Gregor said and turned back to Erwan. “I agree. It all started there. Something was set in motion then that has repercussions to this day. Breaking the sanctity of that pact is what got us here, I fear.”

“The Great Shame,” Rhene said slowly. “That’s one thing we were never able to figure out. Why on earth did the Doyles break ranks? And why didn’t the other clans stop them?”

“Have you heard of the vision Seamus the Librarian had back in 1776?” Gregor asked. When they shook their heads, he continued. “He was called into a meeting between King Niall and his advisers, which also included his two sons, Cladhaire and Baoth.”

That he referred to them as that and not as Erwan’s father and uncle made Rhene like him even more.

“The American Revolution was in full swing, and they wanted his opinion. King Niall’s brother, Prince Erroll, was aiding the revolutionaries fighting to throw off the yoke of British oppression.”

“He was a white dragon, correct?” Erwan asked.

“He was, and he helped them gain victory. But during that meeting, a vision took hold of Seamus, one he shared with those present.” Gregor cleared his throat. “To quote him, ‘The dragons will be faced with the choice between honor and betrayal, and they must choose wisely. Old alliances will be reconsidered, with implications that will impact generations to come. But when the White Dragon and the True Alpha join forces, peace will reign.’”

The words echoed in Rhene’s head, especially that last line. The first part made sense, but what was that last sentence about?

“Those present didn’t want peace with the British. They wanted the war because they craved independence. And thus, the Great Shame began. They wanted to prevent that alliance between the White Dragon and the True Alpha. And your grandfather, King Niall, approved it, though in hindsight, he must’ve been under the influence of his sons’ dark magic already.”

“Baoth killed him two years later,” Erwan said with bitterness in his voice. “They killed their own father.”

“Gregor says once you break the Code, it becomes easier and easier,” Fergal said softly. “At first, your honor puts up a fight, but when you keep shushing it, it fades until there’s nothing left.”

Rhene could easily see that. “Over time, the wolves lost a lot of their powers because we abandoned the old ways. We turned our back on honor too, and it cost us.”

“Dishonor has a price,” Gregor said somberly. “But most people don’t realize it until it comes to collect.”

“If we can get back to the timeline, I have a question. The war was won. They got their wish for independence. Why still go through with the Great Shame, even many years later when their independence was no longer at risk?” Rhene asked.

“Because my father discovered I was a white dragon, would be my guess,” Erwan said. “And he must’ve remembered this prophecy, fearing I would join forces with the wolves.”

“Yes. But there was more. When you were born, your mom’s maid had a vision.”

Erwan frowned. “Lucia? Don’t you mean my aunt Fiona, Baoth’s wife?”

“No, Lucia. She had a vision on the day you were born.”

Another vision? They’d learned about Fiona’s prophetic words from Emma, but she’d never mentioned anything about Lucia.

Erwan blindly sought Rhene’s hand, and he laced their fingers together, squeezing his mate’s hand in quiet comfort. “What was her vision?”

“She said that over time, the king would regret the day you were born.” Gregor’s voice changed, growing deeper. “‘One day, he’ll stand up against his father and make right what was wrong. When the True Alpha rises, so will your son, and he will bring justice and honor and peace, but it will come at a price.’”

Erwan paled, and Rhene pulled him onto his lap. If Gregor and Fergal had an issue with that, fuck them. His mate needed him, and the way Erwan all but crawled into Rhene’s arms proved it.

“Those are powerful words,” Fergal whispered. “And she said them about Erwan?”

“Yes. Queen Grian placed a spell on Lucia’s lips to protect her from saying a word, but in her haste, she only made the spell valid until you were of age, so when you were sixteen and showed your color, the spell was broken, and your father found out.”

“His mother protected him with spells all his life,” Rhene said, holding Erwan tightly. “Cladhaire would’ve killed him otherwise.”

Gregor nodded. “That or he would’ve infected him with his dark magic. Your mom is a powerful dragon, Erwan. Much more powerful than her husband ever realized, or he would’ve stopped her.”

Rhene’s heart filled with love and gratitude for Erwan’s mom. She had sacrificed everything for him and his brothers.

“What Gregor and I have been trying to figure out is why the other clans, including us, didn’t banish the Doyles after the Great Shame. Why did we keep in touch with them when we should’ve taken a stand against their flagrant violation of the Code?” Fergal said. “After 1822, it makes sense because that’s when they all learned about Erwan being a white dragon. But the years before that, the time between 1778 and 1822, that’s the period that raises questions.”

Erwan let go of Rhene, though he stayed on his lap and leaned backward against Rhene’s chest. “I’d think you’d be old enough to remember, Gregor, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Fergal grinned. “I keep telling him he’s a silver fox, but he always shushes me.”

Gregor shot a dark look at Fergal, who gave him a saucy smile back. If the whole situation weren’t so grim, Rhene would’ve been more than entertained.

“I do have the age,” Gregor said. “However, I’m from the Murphy clan and, as such, was kept out of everything.”

The Murphy clan? “Whoa, that’s something you could’ve said before.” Rhene wasn’t able to keep the venom out of his voice. “We told you what the Murphys did to us, how they tried to abduct Erwan, probably with the intention of killing him.”

“The whole reason he left that clan was that he despised everything they did and stood for,” Fergal snapped. “So don’t hold his former clan against him. It’s not like we’re blaming Erwan for the things his father and uncle did.”

“Fergal!” Gregor seemed appalled. “You can’t speak to them like that.”

Okay. With sudden clarity, Rhene understood. That had to have been what Erwan had seen when he’d scanned Fergal. He held up his hands. “No harm done, and message received. I won’t question your loyalty again, Gregor, and I apologize for doing so.”

“No apology needed.” Gregor frowned at Fergal, then focused on Rhene and Erwan again. “I would like to confirm what Fergal said, though he could’ve expressed himself better and certainly with a less confrontational approach. I left the Murphy clan once I was old enough to see the truth of what was going on there. Fergal’s father was willing to take me in as a tutor for Fergal’s older brother and then Fergal, and that’s how I ended up with the Fitzgeralds.”

His older brother? If he wasn’t the crown prince, how had Fergal become the king? Rhene filed that question away for later.

“He’s no longer my tutor,” Fergal said as if that hadn’t been crystal clear already. “I’ve appointed him the commander of our clan, in charge of our defense, but he rarely leaves my side because we don’t know who betrayed my father and uncle and handed them to the dragon slayers on a silver platter.”

Gregor nodded tersely. “And until we do, I don’t trust anyone else with Fergal’s safety.”

They had some serious problems of their own, then.

“What can we expect from the Dragon Council? What will they do tomorrow?” Rhene asked.

“This is the first Council I’m attending,” Gregor said. “Fergal attended the previous one, but his father was still alive at the time and saw no reason for me to accompany them. So I have no clue.”

Fergal scratched his beard. “I have a hunch the Murphys are going to come for you first thing, and they’re going to hit hard. My gut says they want you out of here as soon as possible, and in this case, Cladhaire’s words have no weight, since your claim is against him. The Murphys will have to take the lead. So have your claims at the ready, with the receipts to prove you’re not lying. The one advantage we have is that it’s our turn to chair the Council, so at least there’s that.”

“And what will the O’Connors do?” Erwan asked.

Fergal’s expression hardened. “They will do what they do best—abstain and stick their heads in the sand. As long as it’s not something that directly affects them, they want nothing to do with it.”

That left them with two clans against them: one who wouldn’t lift a finger and one willing to defend them. Not the best odds, but for now, Rhene would take it.

In the meantime, all he could do was hope and pray the rescue mission had been successful and Erwan’s mom had been freed.