Chapter 17

Jaegar

BY THE TIME I HAULED myself up to the castle for a late supper, I was starving and aching from the physical work I’d put myself through all day. I missed Vanya terribly, but my mind was too dark to consider anything more. I knocked on the main door, surprised to find the king himself opening it for me. “King Damon,” I said, trying to sound neutral.

The king smiled and gestured for me to come in. “You’re just in time for dinner.”

“Oh?” I asked, surprised for the second time in as many moments. “I thought I’d missed it.” In fact, I’d deliberately waited until I knew it would be done. The housekeeper would keep a plate for me and let me eat in the kitchen.

“No, not at all,” he said. “We all just arrived, so the dining room is set up. Come.”

I begrudgingly let the king drag me into the dining hall, where everyone was already seated and waited. No one had started eating, so either my timing was strangely perfect, or they’d waited for me.

“Please, sit,” Damon said as he took his place at the head of the table.

Vanya was waiting, a seat next to her available for me.

“Hello, everyone,” I managed to say, nodding my head to the rest of the family as I took my seat. “I didn’t think you were arriving until tomorrow?”

Everyone was there, even Iain and Veronica.

Queen Cass answered my question, “We were anxious to come home.”

“Please, eat,” the king said.

Everyone began reaching for the platters and serving themselves.

A servant walked up and discreetly asked me if I’d like wine or whiskey.

I immediately requested whiskey, realizing I would need fortification to get through whatever conversation was coming.

“It’s so great to be home,” Veronica said appreciatively. “Though it’s so much colder than I remembered. We’ve been in the human world too long again.”

I smiled at her.

Veronica’s gaze zoomed in on me. “Have you ever crossed the Veil, Jaegar?”

“No,” I answered truthfully, reaching for the roasted potatoes slathered in melted herbed butter. “I’d never left the North... before a few days ago.”

“It must have been such a shock,” Vanya said quietly beside me. She was dressed in a beautiful, dark dress, her long hair piled on top of her head in an arrangement of elegant curls.

I shrugged. “Yes, it was, but I’m home now.”

A strange silence followed my answer before Theo spoke. “Jaegar, can I ask you something?”

I nodded. “Of course.” The creamy pasta dish I’d heaped on my plate was settling well into my cold belly, and as I took a long sip of whiskey, I sighed, finally relaxing.

“You love this kingdom, don’t you?” he pressed.

I frowned at the crown prince. “Of course. It’s my home.”

What an odd question.

I picked up my fork and speared a chunk of potato before putting it in my mouth.

“I don’t think that now is the time to talk about that,” the queen said carefully.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “About what?” Were they considering kicking me out of the kingdom or something? Had they finally decided they couldn’t deal with me being part of their world and wanted to be rid of me once and for all? “You’re not going to ask me leave, are you?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I’d survive being cast out of the only home I’d ever known.

Barry joined in on the conversation and laughed. “Oh, no. Not at all. You love this place even more than us.”

I glanced sidelong at Vanya.

She gave me a soft shrug, as if to say she didn’t know what they were talking about.

The king picked up his wine glass and took as sip before speaking. “My sons are trying to tell you, inelegantly I must say, that we’d all like you to take a more active role in the running of the kingdom.”

I glanced at the queen, then Vanya, then back at the king. “A more active role than what I’m currently doing? Building houses for my people?” I didn’t think anything was more important than that.

The queen smiled.

Veronica laughed out loud. “See! He’s just like you, Dad.”

I glanced at my half-sister and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes. “My dad, or... well, I should say our dad, shouldn’t I? But anyway... Dad’s the same as you. Mom’s always said that he never wanted to live in the castle. He would have much rather lived in a field with the farmers.”

I glanced at my father.

He smiled and swirled the wine in his glass. “Of course. I couldn’t have rebuilt my home without getting out in the kingdom and helping.”

The queen shook her head. “Sweetheart, there aren’t many kings who would have literally built those first homes with their own hands and spoken to farmers while planting crops.”

I looked at my father with renewed respect. I knew he’d done a lot, but I hadn’t realized quite how much. I’d never known he’d dealt with the land and its people so very directly, just as I did. A man who worked with his hands and cared for his subjects had to not only be respected but appreciated. It took strength of character to be that kind of person, especially with such a heavy mantle to carry.

“You did the right thing,” I said. “The North needs a king who will stand with his people from the ground up.”

“Exactly our point!” Barry said loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

I took a sip of whiskey, still unsure as to where this particular strain of conversation was heading.

Then Barry added, “That’s why Theo and I think you should be king instead of either of us.”

The whiskey burst out from between my lips and all over the platter of pasta in front of me. “Oh, my gods, I’m so sorry,” I gasped as the whiskey continued to burn in my throat, reaching out to wipe up the whiskey with my hand, though it was a pointless exercise.

The servants came forward instantly, whisking the food away and wiping everything clean.

“It’s perfectly all right, sire,” one of the servants assured me. “Would you like another whiskey?”

“Hell, yes.” I was going to need more than a little fortification if this was what the princes wanted to talk about. I could hardly believe my fucking ears. My brain felt like it was going to explode.

Is this really happening?

Cass smiled gently. “Well, that certainly answers the question of whether you were planning to take over for Damon.”

I leaned back to give the servants space to reset the table, my head spinning. “Take over... what?”

Cass gestured to the royal dining room. “The kingdom.”

My stomach dropped, but this wasn’t totally unexpected. I bore the tattoo, and I was the eldest son. It made sense they were worried about my intentions.

I shook my head. “No... not at all. Absolutely not. I never wanted anything from your family, and the idea of usurping my king never even occurred to me.”

“This is your family too,” the king said, his voice strong and sure.

I blinked at him, then looked back at his sons. “Then what is this about?”

Theo and Barry glanced at each other.

“We don’t love the people the way you do,” Theo finally said. “And you have the tattoo. So...”

“So... what?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest like a war drum.

“So...” Theo tilted his head at me, frowning as though he was the one confused, rather than me. “Why don’t you assume the throne after Dad?”

I stared at him, shocked beyond belief.

The crown princes want me to usurp them?

“Instead of you?” I whispered, reaching for my poor head. “Are you serious?” My quiet words were at odds with the turmoil churning inside my mind. My heart was thundering like a jackhammer in my chest, and adrenaline zinged along my veins like white-hot lightning.

Every instinct in me wanted to run. Hell, I wanted to fight . But who was the enemy in this situation? It didn’t seem there was one. There was just the proposal of an insane notion—nothing more, nothing less.

Vanya’s hand slid over my thigh.

I jerked my head over to stare at her.

She was giving me an encouraging smile but there was worry in her eyes also, as well there should be.

This was the last thing I’d expected to hear tonight. The very last.

“Ahhh...” I said, at an utter loss for words for the moment.

Veronica snorted out a laugh. “You’re right, Mom. He definitely didn’t come here to steal the crown. It doesn’t even look like he wants it.”

“I don’t!” I immediately said without really thinking first.

My father’s face fell.

I regretted my thoughtless reply instantly. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I mean—”

“It’s all right,” Cass said, reaching over to take hold her husband’s hand. “We didn’t expect you to feel so strongly about it, but I guess you’ve had a lot longer to think about all of this than us.”

I nodded, gulping loudly, though they were way off the mark. I’d never thought about it. It wasn’t my place. I was the bastard son, the one raised in poverty, far beyond the privilege and airs of the royal family.

Theo leaned forward in his seat, gaining my attention. He had a big frown on his face. “But... why?” he pushed, a note of desperation in his voice. “You’re the oldest, by far. And you have the tattoo.”

“So do you,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

Doesn’t the kid want the crown he was born to? This makes no sense. He’s the legitimate heir.

Theo’s smile was lopsided. “Yeah... I do. And I love my family and my people, but I’ve never looked forward to being king. I’m not a natural-born leader like you. You’re a Northman in the truest sense.”

I scoffed at him, slugging back my whiskey. “Not a natural? Are you kidding me? I felt like a freak at the party the other night, whereas you fit in everywhere.”

“But that’s not what being king is about,” Damon interjected reasonably, his voice heavy.

I rounded on him, an irrational panic building in my chest. “But that’s part of it, isn’t it? The meetings and the royal family parties and gatherings. I grew up starving and angry at the world. I’m not meant to run a fucking kingdom!”

“Jaegar...”

I took note of the warning tone in Vanya’s voice but ignored it and decided to address the whole table. “I like building houses. I like looking after my neighbors. I like getting my hands dirty. I don’t want to sit on some fat pillow in a grand hall and dish out advice to people.”

Damon’s face flushed red.

Before he could speak, Cass sighed pointedly. “I wish Stavrok was here.”

“Why?” I demanded, wanting to know her reasoning. “So, I can feel even more inferior than I do already?”

“No!” she snapped back, unperturbed by my temper or abrasiveness. “Because my cousin would tell you that you’re much more like Damon than you can ever imagine!”

I stood up abruptly, Vanya’s hand falling from my lap and the chair making a loud, scraping noise on the polished floor. “I’m not you!” I practically yelled at my father. “And I never will be. So, just stop... all of you, okay? And leave me alone.”

The sound of soft footfalls following me out into the hallway had me turning around with clenched fists, a fire burning in my gut as I turned to confront whoever it was.

Vanya jumped back from my fury, her hands upraised in a calming gesture.

I forced myself to calm down. “Sorry,” I breathed, barely containing what so desperately wanted to erupt out of me now. “I had to get out of there.”

“It’s all right,” she soothed, reaching out to touch my arm. “But I need you to know that I think you’d be a great king, Jaegar. You’re strong and fearless, and you love your people so much.”

I stared at her as her words sank in. And when they finally reached my soul, I snatched my arm out of her grip in distrust and hurt. “Is that what you think?” I demanded, speaking through my teeth, which were already shifting. “That I’d do a good job sitting on a fucking throne all day? Of playing at being royal like you? That goes to show how well you know me, mate .” And with that final barb thrown, I turned and ran from a life that was being thrust upon me. A life I never wanted.

That’s not me!

I ran through the castle, back across the threshold and out into the cold. I was panting and couldn’t catch my breath, and my dragon was screaming at me to fly, to take to the skies. With a racing heart and more emotions roiling within me than I’d ever felt in my whole life, I chose not to fight him.

“Jaegar! Can I help, sire?” the butler called out from the front door, a concerned expression on his face.

I turned and threw my best coat at him. “Just take care of my clothes, please.” I ripped off my shirt and managed to throw it toward my coat before my dragon ripped through my body. My arms and legs shortened, and my body grew in size. My skin became gleaming scales, and my blood turned to liquid ice in my veins.

How could my own fated mate turn on me during such a pivotal moment? Was she so obsessed with marrying a royal that she’d forgotten who I really was? Where I’d come from? Because I certainly hadn’t. Memories of my mother and the years we’d spent scraping to get by assaulted my mind, yanking on my heartstrings. This wasn’t what she’d intended when she asked me to seek out my sire, I was sure of it.

It was time to fly, to escape, and to retreat from the suffocating glitz and glamor of the royal world to the only home I’d ever known—to the place that I belonged. My duty as a man of the North was to the people—not a throne.