Chapter 93
“You’re really not going to tell me what happened?” I ask Ragnar once we’re in the car.
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“I want to get away from the council. I love having them around to see us interact and how we react to our current predicaments, but I would rather talk to you in private, where we can be honest with one another without the audience,” he explains.
I smile at him, because I have noticed that he likes to talk to me about anything away from anyone. Even Ivar. Ever since I found out we were mates, he’s given me that, and I am grateful not to be the last person to find out when something is happening.
“Is he mad?”
“Oh, yeah,” he grins, delighted with the idea of the Alpha King raging about us tarnishing his perfectly curated image. “He wants to come to court to give up the city. Since the Romanos are the acting Alphas, this is their fight.”
“He’s planning on throwing them under the bus,” I conclude. He nods in hales deeply.
“I told him we didn’t want the city, that we only wanted to settle old scores. However, this is the only way for us to come to a peaceful agreement. Since we’re adding Artume City to our territories, one of two things needs to happen. One, an ambassador and a general, will be established. Or two, one of us marries into their alpha bloodlines and the two run the city on behalf of the wolves who live there and Lycans who own them.”
“Us as in you or me?”
“Or Ivar.”
“Why me?”
“If my father, my brother, and I were to die. Your grandmother inherits the throne. Many wished that she had been the one who had tamed my father after my mother passed. She would be the Queen now. Their union would have been a dream come true for our people.”
“I didn’t know that,” I admit. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
“It is,” he agrees and reaches over to give my hand a squeeze. “No one is going to fight our mating. The moment we announce it, everyone is going to be very happy about you being an omega. Everyone already loves you as it is.”
“What?” I snort.
“You have your own hashtag on the scratch. Hashtag MilitiaOmega,” he grins and glances over at me,
“What is the scratch?”
“The Scratch is the Lycan equivalent of Howler,” he says and hands me his phone. “Not just anyone can come across it, and you have to show proof that you’re a Lycan upon subscribing. It’s a whole lot better than the basic shit wolves and vampires
have.”
Among the dozens of apps on his big ass phone, I see the app. It’s four horizontal scratch marks and four vertical scratch marks, forming a hashtag. I tap on it and flinch back when a fully shifted Lycan pops up, letting out a roar. The screen clears, revealing the user’s page. It’s black, with a bold, dark red font. In the background, flames burn. Subtle about his affinity? That’s got to be a joke.
Ragnar’s image is in the left–hand corner; beneath it is his information. Birthday, horoscope, rank, alumni from all schools he attended, family members, and finally, relationship status. The first post is of the two of us giving the presentation for the
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raid. I’m explaining how we were going to get inside when it was taken.
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He wasn’t the one to post it; he just shared it, but on the post, highlighted in red is the hashtag. I tap it, and the page shifts to a pretty cobalt–blue and silver. Posts of people spotting me with Ragnar, Ivar, and even my grandmother are all over the feed. I scroll through most of the posts to see a lot of my progress before I shifted. The Little Wolf that could.
I started out as the Major General’s granddaughter, but as the dates draw closer to the present, no one mentions my grandmother at all. I pause at the pictures of me giving orders to the medics and helping the burn victims. Images of me laughing with Aimee at the clinic while helping kids.
The captions all say the same thing. There’s never been an omega like this in our ranks. The comments all joke about people wanting to be like me when they grow up. Women want to be closer to the action and speak out for what’s right. I lock his phone and look over at him to see him smiling back at me.
“Our people love you. When it all started, it felt like they had been waiting for someone like you to come along and inspire them. Us. I know I’ve told you this before, but I will never get tired of saying it or reminding you. I’m not the only one who feels that way.
“We’re not particularly a very big race. Word about one of us making a difference spreads like wildfire. You probably already know this, but we are a competitive race, too. These women on here see you and, believe it or not, they want this, and they want to try and do it better.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
“You don’t have to say anything. You just have to be yourself. Push to be who you want to be at all times, like no one is watching. Take pride in everything you do, even if you end up failing. Especially when you end up failing because some people don’t even try.”
“What you said about the power we wield. We accidentally almost started a war,” I whisper. “My grandmother left tonight to round up the armadas. I did that.”
“Zara leaves to round up the armadas at least twice a year. You saw the old man. He’s a war addict. Whatever keeps him out of the council hall,” he smirks. “You’re right, though. I did not think it would turn out this way. I figured he’d send a couple of beta princes. Ivar and Kennedy were preparing to kidnap them, steal their shit, and send back false reports. He said it was your idea.”
“I was drunk when I told him that,” I laugh.
“It was a good idea,” he smirks. “When did you have time to say that to him when you were with me the entire time you were drunk?”
“I texted him. We text a lot. Your brother is one of my best friends. You know, your dad looked very proud when I told him that Ivar was the one who had made the videos. He smiled when I told him.”
“He knows Ivar is really good at that stuff. He knows I’m a really good businessman. But what you don’t understand is that we weren’t born to normal people, Soph. There is an entire race that needs us to be the Kings we were born to be, because I’m not the only one bred for this.
“He’s really good at being the King, but he knows that as the eldest, the burden falls on my shoulders. Ivar hasn’t had it easy When I was born before him, it made his birth illegitimate. The court wanted my parents to hand him back to his mother and forget he ever existed.”
He pulls up to the house and comes around to open my door for me. Someone walks out and takes his key. I didn’t know that either. Ivar never talks about his childhood, and when we were kids, I was too young to understand it, even if he did.
“We can’t make him marry someone for the sake of peace,” I say once we’re inside. “He’s starting to get close to Kennedy.”
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“Like I said, Little Wolf. We weren’t born to be normal people. But you’re right. In the end, the choice will be up to him. He has the last word,” he steps into me to caress my cheek. When I look up at him, he leans down pressing his lips to mine. He immediately pulls away when the mark on his chest flares. “I can’t wait to finish removing this,” he sighs. “There are times when the pain is worth it. You always look so got damned kissable.”
