“I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or the Imposter King,” I mutter, not at all amused by his commentary.
“A bit of both, I imagine,” he drawls before stealing one of the tomato bombs.
Except he doesn’t eat it.
He puts it between his teeth and feeds it to Ailsa via his mouth. She moans in response, not too dissimilar to how she was moaning earlier in our bed.
Craze grabs her hips and holds her against him, his shoulders seeming to loosen in the process as his personalities visibly switch to someone softer, gentler, more nurturing.
By the time they’re done sharing the tomato bomb, he seems much less aggravated, which is good because his irritable side was starting to grate on my nerves.
If anyone has a right to be upset about not knotting Ailsa, it’s Catum. Yet other than the obvious erection beneath his towel, he seems fine.
“You said Crimson is hiding his identity,” Ailsa murmurs. “Pretending to be the Silver King.”
“Yes. His wolf is white, so he only ever shows himself in wolf form while Heart translates his edicts for the masses,” I elaborate. “Everyone assumes it’s a sister supporting her brother.”
“And there’s speculation that the king never shifts into his human form because he lost his mate-circle,” Catum adds. “The kingdom thinks Craze and I are dead.”
“Hence, I’m the Mad Hatter,” Craze muses, his eyebrows dancing as he plucks another tomato bomb from the tray and eats it.
I take a cheese ball to give to Ailsa, but she doesn’t immediately accept it. “So what changes if he takes a mate?” she asks. “Why would that make him reveal himself? And won’t that just piss everyone off?”
“The kingdom fell to me as the strongest Alpha,” I say, trying to explain how hierarchy works in our world. “However, thatrole isn’t official until a king takes a mate. Continuing bloodlines is very important in this world, but with the lack of Omegas…” I trail off, swallowing.
The disappearance of Omegas started with my mother’s death. Then no new Omegas were born, making it impossible for me to officially claim my title.
Thus, we began hunting the way a mate-circle should.
And it took centuries for us to find Ailsa.
If she refuses us…
I can’t even finish the thought. It’ll always be her choice. But our circle won’t move on from her. She’s it for us. And not just because Omegas appear to be on the verge of extinction. It’sher. She’s been our choice since the moment I first scented her.
Our strong-willed, adventurous Omega. The female who never shied away from my beast, even when she thought I meant to eat her.
She’s always been strong. Forward. Confident in her own right.
Perhaps shy externally with Catum, but bold inside her mind and in her dreams.
The perfect mate.
“Omegas have always been rare,” Catum continues for me as he leans against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. “And Omegas only mate strong Alphas.”
I nod. “If the Imposter King takes a mate under these current conditions, he’ll be visibly seen as the strongest Alpha among us. And no one will care how it was done. Unless, of course, they are made to realize that he’s ignoring the rituals.”
“Right. Otherwise, he can spin it that the Omega came directly to him and declined the ritual, as proven by the heir in her belly.” Craze utters the words with a hint of malice, his dislike palpable. “That was the reason we presented youto Monsterland—to provide proof that you are not denying the ritual.”
“To give you a choice,” I rephrase. Because that was the point of all this—we want her to willingly choose her mates.
And, of course, we hope that choice will be us.
We are the strongest Alphas in Monsterland. Deep down, her Omega soul knows that.
It’s the human part of her that needs to understand all this, to accept it.
“So with the ritual, I… I run. And you chase?” She voices it in a breathy tone that goes straight to my knot.
