Royal Affair Page 3

  Keiran just shook his head. He still had no clue what was going on, but maybe, if he played along with this game of Ty’s, he’d get more information, and that was what was important right now. “My dad has three omega daughters and one omega son who couldn’t learn his craft. So, he sold me.”

  “Bummer,” Ty said. And it seemed like that was going to be the end of the conversation. But it couldn’t be the end! Keiran had to know more.

  “But Ty, I don’t understand how this happened! My dad said there were important visitors coming and that everyone in the village knew they were coming. That doesn’t make sense. Isn’t the slave trade normally low-key?”

  “Sure,” Ty said, agreeably. He sounded more tired than before, head slumping down and fingers fidgeting with the binds on his wrists. “But like, I guess some of them get tired of sneaking around. We hear some stuff in here. It’s like these guys don’t think we’ve got ears.”

  And who are we going to tell their secrets to?

  “These guys… you’ll see them… there are a lot of them. Lots of different shifter types in pairs. It looks like a caravan of emissaries, right? Everyone being present, dressed all fancy. They make up the name of a false organization and then they scope out the place to find new slaves.” Ty drew in a ragged breath, as if speaking was difficult and required more energy than he currently possessed. Still, the foxes did love to talk and Keiran had an idea that Ty would jabber away until he died. “I guess either your dad had a suspicion about them coming or they picked up on the fact that there was someone worth buying in the area.”

  As much as he didn’t want that to be true, Keiran couldn’t help but to remember that one of the reptiles had said they would “take care of everything else.” What did that mean?

  He voiced the question aloud, and Ty had the answer. “They’ll rough up the house a bit, screw with your bedroom. Plant evidence to make it look like they came in the night completely uninvited and stole you.”

  “Why?” Keiran was shaking his head again. Everything inside him rejected this. “I don’t understand why they would do that.”

  “Why not?” Ty shrugged. “They’re slave traders, not monsters.”

  The two seemed pretty similar to Keiran.

  “They do this specifically because they understand that the person they’re speaking to has no other choice, so they take care of the aftermath. And besides, you try not to anger clients. A happy client who only sees the easy part of the job is a potential repeat client.”

  “Pa would never!”

  But would he? He had three other omega family members. If he needed money to replace a lack of government funding, might Lance not be inspired to get rid of the one daughter who most resembled his dead wife?

  “You learn pretty quick after this that the people who ‘never’ are usually the ones who do.” Ty’s bright eyes had gone so dark his hair even seemed to be affected by it, lacking its former vivid hue. “And if you don’t, you’re sunk.”

  “No,” Keiran choked out. He didn’t know who he was speaking to. Some god. Some unseen force that might listen to his pleas better than Lance had, but he was met with only silence. All these other future slaves, they were beyond helping him. They were beyond helping themselves. But he was new still! He still had hope! He still had… had as much strength as an omega ever could have! If anyone was going to escape, it would be Keiran.

  Closing his eyes, he started to shift.

  Everyone around him sensed it and pushed away from him all at once. Ty looked up again and lifted his bound arms with his fingers spread as if to warn Keiran to tone it down. He ignored the gesture. He was beyond caring. What else was he going to do? Sit in here until they sold him off to work for some slave master, or pushed him into a marriage with a person who would probably end up being abusive? He couldn’t let that happen.

  As he shifted, the circumference of his arms and legs changed. The ropes binding him did not burst apart as they would have for an alpha; instead, he was able to simply step out of them. Standing took more effort than he would have thought. His body was full of aches, which reminded him that he didn’t know how long he’d been sitting for. His paws and legs were full of pins-and-needles tingles, and his muzzle and lips and tongue hurt from chemical burns.

  But he was free.

  “Don’t, you fool!” someone snapped at him.

  Keiran ignored them and threw his head back, letting out a wild and uncontrolled howl. His chest filled with air over and over again as he howled as loudly as possible.

  From outside the caravan came alarmed shouts. The wheels beneath the truck ground to a halt, signaling that someone was going to come investigate the sound. That was his chance.

  Keiran shoved his way through the dozens of other omegas all crammed into the back of the truck, not caring who he stepped on or bumped into. He stood before the rear door and howled again, throwing his shoulder against the metal. Pain sent him rebounding and yipping, but then the door started to lift up as if by magic.

  It wasn’t magic. A man’s face stared hard at his, one arm holding the truck’s rear door open. Behind him were a menagerie of animals, a bear, the two reptiles, a hawk…

  Keiran didn’t stop to register the others completely. The man’s hand grabbed for him, to push him back inside the truck. He ducked beneath the man’s reach and kicked out with his hind legs, aiming to make some sort of epic leap for freedom. His hind paws skidded against someone’s clothes and he fell out the back of the caravan truck, ramming into the man holding the door up. The door slammed shut behind them as they collapsed to the ground.

  Strong arms clutched around Keiran’s body, practically crushing him. He yelped and struggled, twisting around as he’d seen the guards do when he watched them spar with one another. Before he even knew what he was doing, his open mouth was clamped down around the man’s undefended neck. Blood filled his mouth as his teeth sank deep into the man’s flesh. His body went limp in an instant.

  What have I done?

  Instinct took over, sending Keiran rolling to his feet. The other animals backed away from the sight of him, an omega with blood spraying from his jaws as he panted, and he used that as an opening to flee past them. There was blood in his eyes somehow, obscuring much of what he saw, but he fled anyway. His paws thrummed hard against the ground, quickly passing from the packed earth of a dirt road to wild and untamed grasses. His snout was full of the scent of blood, and all he could hear was the pumping of his own heart.

  Suddenly, pain seared down his back and he collapsed to the side as something hard and fast struck against him. Yelping and rolling, he shook his head to try and see his attacker. Feathers whipped past his nose. More pain, now on his face. “Oof!” he cried out, and snapped at the hawk as it wheeled away. Almost as soon as it was gone, it returned again and dug its talons into the scruff of fur on the back of his neck. Wings beating like crazy as if it was trying to lift him, he felt his flesh tear and hot blood stained his fur.

  Then, an enormous paw struck into him from the side and sent him slamming so hard into the ground that he almost dented the earth. The shape responsible was so large it blotted out the sky, covered in shaggy brown fur. A bear. And now as Keiran lay there, a boa constrictor curled around his legs and squeezed so hard that his bones groaned in protest.

  “No…” he muttered.

  “Oh, yesss,” a soft voice hissed. It was some sort of half-shifted lizard, the one with bulging yellow eyes and iridescent scales. “Thisss time you won’t essscape.”

  And he definitely wasn’t going to escape like that again, tying him up this time with his arms bent behind his back and connected to the ties on his ankles. He was literally strung up like a hog now, unable to do anything but lie on his side. Adding to the complications, they shoved a rag in his mouth and tied a gag around it. He struggled to breathe, using only his nose in the thick, musty air of the truck.

  “Maybe that’ll show you to listen next time someone tells you no,” Ty grunt
ed. He sounded nowhere near as friendly as he had before. “God, maybe your Pa was right to sell you if you’re that stupid. You think you’re the only person who’s tried to escape?”

  Keiran swiveled his eyes in the fox’s general direction but, from this angle, he couldn’t see him. He couldn’t say anything in his own defense, either. All he could do was lie there and take whatever anyone threw at him.

  “He ain’t the only ‘un,” another voice grunted mockingly. “Lots of newcomers try it. The stupid ‘uns, that is.”

  No one laughed. Keiran closed his eyes and tried not to tremble. Lots of newcomers? If Ty had been in the back of this truck for two weeks, how long had some of the others been in here? Months? Years? Years of travel as the traders tried to gather up enough slaves to make a good haul?

  I wish they would kill me. I would rather die than be a slave.

  Chapter 4

  There was a thorn dangerously near his eyelid, scraping the sensitive flap of flesh whenever he blinked. That was fine. The pain helped keep him aware and, besides, this thicket was the best place to hide for their purposes. It was a waiting game; only a matter of time.

  Jace Culvers knew this waiting game well; knew it in the intimate sort of way only a wolf can. Wolves as true animals were known for their endless patience and endurance, running down prey for days until the exhausted animal gladly accepted death. As shapeshifters, wolves were able to come up with more advanced tactics to lessen the hunt time, but that patience and endurance was never wasted when it came to a situation such as this.

  All around him were his Pack Guard, a select 15 alpha wolves Jace chose himself. Their sole purpose in life was to protect him and to follow his every command, no matter how ridiculous or risky. And this was both, as they were watching a dirt road with a slave trade caravan approaching. He’d been tracking this one for weeks, desperately neglecting all his other duties for this one endeavor. And now, after so long, here it was. The end of their adventure. It was almost a pity really, that the cloud of dust should continue to near. Another hour at most.

  Yet, as much as it was a pity, Jace just had to close his eyes and savor the moment. He felt so close to being a real, true wolf right now. The waiting, the anticipation, sitting at the head of his loyal pack as they all waited for his signal. The day was warm, wind rattling the thicket. There were thorns in his pelt and dirt in his pads, and his fur was ruffled up. He was a far cry from being some immaculate prince. He was a wild animal, a hunter. The Head Predator.

  Almost.

  Don’t think such things, Jace scolded himself. I will have a long while yet before I take on that title. Father will heal.

  Blinking again, he felt the thorn rub his eyelid raw again. Focusing on the pain, he redoubled his efforts to concentrate on watching the hill. Thick billows of dust, growing closer and closer. As the minutes passed, he was able to pick up on the faint roar of a large trunk engine. The caravan was coming.

  He could smell his Guard’s anticipation, their fear. He didn’t reprimand them, as fear was vital to survival. Through the connection they shared, he was aware of their muscles bunching beneath them and their shoulders tensing. They were ready. They could smell the gas in the air just like he. The caravan was only seconds from appearing at the top of the hill. That was when they would attack.

  Jace let out a very tiny sound, a bark so quiet it was almost a whimper. His pack responded, puffing out their fur and flexing their muscles one last time.

  This is it.

  The truck appeared. It was a sorry, beaten-up old thing. How so many cities managed to mistake it for being an important envoy, he had no idea. Maybe they didn’t know any better. Either way, though he’d caught many glimpses of the caravan in the past, as well as the truck that led it and the other vehicles that followed, this was the first time he had been close enough to see the driver at the wheel. Hawks rode on the roof of the main truck, and a few animals wove in and out of the line of slow vehicles.

  Now!

  Digging his claws into the ground, Jace threw himself forward from the depths of the thicket. That nagging thorn scraped a hard line up his eye to his forehead, and he left several other knots of fur behind in the bushes, but the stinging pain was invigorating. He threw his muzzle up into the air as he charged, howling. As one, his fifteen pack wolves surged from the thicket and ran up the hill with Jace at their head.

  He twisted his head from side-to-side, silently ordering his wolves to flank him in a solid line. They did so, matching his pace perfectly. By now they had been noticed, but it was far too late for anyone to do anything.

  Jace barked the command and 16 huge alpha wolves jumped and tackled the huge truck along the side where the slaves were being held. Pain cracked down his shoulder and he rebounded off the metal, landing awkwardly with one paw tucked up beneath his body.

  For one terrible moment, as he turned to watch, he wondered if it hadn’t been enough. The truck teetered on a slant, frozen on one side of its wheels while the driver opened the door and jumped out.

  And then gravity took over and the truck crashed over onto its side and started falling down the other side of the hill. Jace would worry about the omegas inside later. There was still a battle to be fought, though it ended up not being much of one. Together with his pack, they slaughtered the slave traders. They had given their bought possessions no fairness and now Jace gave them none in return. He ripped the wings from the hawks and left them to bleed to death; he slit the bellies of the reptiles with a flick of a hooked claw, and he joined in with three other wolves to bring down that massive bear.

  The whole operation took less than three minutes from attack-howl to victory-howl. Blood covered the road, turning dirt to mud. The dead littered the battleground, contorted in the agony they deserved. Intestines clumped in piles here and there in the middle of those thick, muddy blood pools.

  And though they were covered in blood, absolutely drenched in it, the only injury for the wolves was the scrape on Jace’s forehead.

  “Not bad, eh, Marvin?” he said to the alpha standing beside him, a particularly swift male whose wolf fur never seemed to lie right. His hair did the same, sticking out in choppy clumps that he adored aggravating.

  “Not bad, my prince,” Marvin replied respectfully, tipping his head down.

  At least this was a problem I could fix. Something I could finally solve for my future kingdom.

  Jace stood back and surveyed the scene with a fair amount of grim satisfaction as his guards investigated the truck scene. They had to rip the crumpled doors open by using brute force, and then began a long process of dragging out the tied omegas and freeing them from their bonds. Some wept. Some acted like wild animals. Many were nearly catatonic, and all of them were so thin that Jace could count every single one of their ribs.

  His heart ached for them. Poor things. Such a ragged little menagerie of predators, wolves and foxes and felines all shoved together into this tiny box for who knew how long. God, and they were filthy, too. Poor things. His alpha’s instinctive want to protect omegas was getting the better of him, making him emotional.

  He focused on the pain from the bloody scratch on his forehead, although he was already healing and the pain was nothing more than an echo of its former self. Still, it helped keep him in check, and by the time all the omegas were freed, he was ready to address them.

  As ready as he would ever be, anyway. His father always thought it ironic that a prince should hate to stand before his subjects.

  Standing up straight and tall, Jace faced the omegas. “47,” Marvin muttered in his ear as he passed by. “Lost one in the fall. Crushed. Tiny thing. Wouldn’t have made it anyway.”

  It took everything he had not to let this information show in his expression.

  “Omegas,” he began, “you all were slaves. Bound for trading. But now, you are free. Free to go wherever you might wish.”

  “That’s great and all,” a rapid voice interrupted. It came from a thin fox with ra
ther loud orange hair. “But like, most of us were sold because we weren’t wanted. Where do you expect us to go?”

  Those of the gathered omegas who were still coherent looked at the fox as if he’d gone mad to speak to Jace that way. However, Jace was more than willing to make allowances for someone who had gone through such trauma. For now.

  “Well, those of you who still have homes to return to, I won’t stop you from going. If you weren’t sold, you would have been stolen and I wish you well on your journey back to your families.” Jace nodded firmly, more for their benefit than to confirm the idea to himself. “And those of you who just want to leave and get as far away from here as possible, I wish you well too. But as for the rest of you… You may return to the castle with me. I will procure jobs for you in the castle or in the capital city. It won’t be a permanent fix and I can’t promise you that you’ll be anything more than simple servants or kitchen assistants, but it will be a place to start. If you have any specialties, you’ll be able to speak with my advisor about them and he will attempt to arrange a job better suited for you.” Jace paused for breath. All of the omegas were fixated on him now, half of them wondering and the other half incredulous.

  How terrible had their lives all been before they even became slaves?

  “You will be given three meals a day, as much as you can eat, and we will provide housing for you. It’s the best I can offer. I know it isn’t much, but…” He gestured to his left. “Those of you who are coming with me, stand here. The rest of you, on the right.”

  At first, no one moved, but then the fox stood up and sauntered over to Jace’s left, giving him a rather unflattering grin. The others slowly stood and started dividing their numbers, choosing a side. In the end, the split was still nearly half and half.

  “What about the…?” One of the omegas gestured to the truck, where the dead omega still lay.