Page 12

“Yes, sir,” the man who was holding me a moment before glances at the pool nervously. “But we should sacrifice something, seeing as how the incantation—”

“Augustus!” A threatening, chillingly jovial voice booms across the platform. “I see you’ve discovered my sacrifice. I’ll admit—an omega isn’t quite worth my son, but it’s far better than throwing a chicken in the pool, don’t you think?”

Those on the platform—other than Augustus—freeze at the sound of that voice. From my spot on the hard, freezing wood, I can just barely crane my neck enough to see him.

Tall, pale, with ice-blue veins snaking up his arms and neck. A bald head and no hat, even in these low temperatures. Wearing a long trench coat that flaps open around his shins, revealing stark black pants and white ankles.

Gavyn.

“Where is my son?” he growls, taking a menacing step forward on the platform, so those around us shift. I nearly avoid getting kicked into the pool anyway. “You have your sacrifice—though I’m not sure why she’s not in the water yet. Return my son to me, or—”

“Watch it.” The king—Augustus—has a hard, commanding voice. All this time, the man from the club was a king. The universe, the moon goddesses, whoever decides my fate—they sure do have a great sense of humor. “The baby is right here.”

Another alpha with brilliant copper hair steps up beside the first, a baby attached to his hip. The water ripples and reflects the moonlight, almost radiating a sense of impatience from the goddesses.

“Sir,” the man who was holding me says, glancing nervously at the water once more. “We should—”

“I’ve got them right here.” Yet another alpha—this one with a scruff of curly hair and a friendly face—appears with several goats in tow. They go rather unceremoniously into the water, bleating and squealing for a moment before it’s quiet. I look away, heart sinking at the thought of their suffering, and the rest of the crowd cheers.

Once the rippling at the surface of the water ceases, it goes serenely calm, smooth and even. The moon reflects in its perfect image on it, as though in a mirror. Surely the sign of a satisfied group of goddesses.

“Get her,” Augustus says, gesturing to me like I’m a sack of potatoes. Several other men—all smelling of the Northern Pack—come forward and take me without fanfare, pulling me up. “Untie her. She is coming with us.”

“Coming with you?” Gavyn laughs cruelly, his son now back—unhappily, it seems—in his arms. “Good for you, Augustus. Although, I can’t say she’s to my personal taste. Happy we could come to an agreement.”

Augustus says nothing, just gestures for his men to take me down the platform without looking at me again. My heart thuds mightily as they pull me down the wooden ramp, my bare feet scraping along painfully. I’m still in this damn nightgown, my hair lank around my shoulders.

Was Gavyn right?

Did Augustus save me because he…wants me?

It’s no secret that alphas, especially the powerful ones, take several omegas at a time to satisfy their urges. Those omegas aren’t praised for their service or even treated with common decency. Typically, they come from poor families that couldn’t sell them to workhouses.

Is that my fate?

And, worse than that, what does it mean about myself that it almost…doesn’t sound that bad? To be at the service of Augustus would mean he would touch me. That I would finally get to feel the vast emptiness inside me, that aching missing piece, filled.

Just the thought of it nearly makes my knees give out.

“Untie her, you heard the king,” one of the men says, with a tone like I can’t possibly understand why. The other men obey him, untying me with a gentleness I don’t expect. Then, they wordlessly walk me out of the festival.

Stupidly, I expect the king to reappear. Maybe to come with me to wherever they are taking me. But he doesn’t come, and I walk out onto a dark road with his men to find a sleek black SUV waiting.

“Get in,” one of them says, not touching me but opening the door. He also doesn’t look at me, instead staring straight ahead. I do what he says, hands shaking as I plant them on the smooth leather seat and haul myself inside.

It’s warm, and my body instantly starts to de-thaw. The seat is comfortable, and the car smells like him, so drenched in Augustus that something inside me clenches, hard.

I try to fight it. The worst thing to happen right now would be to slick all over these nice leather seats. As though the man at the door can make out the thoughts in my head, he grimaces and shuts it, sealing me inside.

I want to ask him questions. Why did the king spare me? Why was Gavyn going to sacrifice me in the first place? When was his son kidnapped?

Obviously, the two things are related. My only guess is some sort of power play from the Kault Kings. But why I was involved is still a mystery to me. That is, if I ignore the most obvious option—an omega’s life means nothing except to themselves.

A moment later, the car starts to roll away.

Nobody tells me where it is that I’ll be going. Nobody bothers to explain what the hell just happened. I’m alone with my thoughts, assumptions, and fears in the back of the SUV as the festival disappears to the side, dropping into the background and eventually blinking out completely.

Chapter 6 - Augustus