Page 85 of The Fallen Fae King

I note which Alphas nod. Ignatius is keenly memorizing the same thing.

We exchange a glance.

“Control your Omega’s tongue, or I will gag him myself.” Maximinus lifts his hand.

Magic starts to shimmer, as if he’s about to summon metal from the walls to create a gag.

“Touch my Omega,” War steps in front of Lucius, “and I’ll cut off your knot and feed it to you.”

I stand before either of them can go through with their threats. “My mates are about to return in triumph. This is a night for celebration, Uncle.”

“Is it?” Maximinus turns his gaze from War to me.

He stalks onto the raised dais like it’s his and he has the right.

I stiffen.

When War raises her sword, attempting to stand in front of me, I gesture at her to back off.

Reluctantly, she does but she remains in a fighting stance.

“What if your mates do not return? Look outside that window. It’s almost dawn.” Maximinus pauses, glancing around at the council members, who are hanging on his words — fuckers. “Then we must presume that they are traitors who have joined with Lanlin Sin. This plan was yours from the start after all, wasn’t it?”

I stare at him.

What’s he trying now?

Then it hits me, and I sprawl back onto the couch to gain myself a few more moments to think.

Why didn’t I see this coming?

This is his attempt at a coup.

I force myself to sit up straight, leaning my elbow on my knee and propping up my chin. “I didn’t have many good choices. You were going to make me execute my own bonded Omega.”

“It was justice.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Your solution instead of execution was to use them to trick, seduce, and capture your enemy. It was your plan. And if it fails, then it’s your failing alone.” Maximinus marches to stand directly in front of me. “Will you take responsibility?”

It’s a trap. But I must walk into it.

My eyes swirl, and I force Hadrian down with difficulty. “Strange how I remember that you were the one who created a cursed mask as part of the plan.”

“Are you challenging me?” Maximinus’ voice becomes soft; it’s always far more dangerous like that.

He hurts more when he pretends to be gentle. I learned that lesson as a child.

When Maximinus reaches to stroke my cheek with his knuckles, I can’t stop the small flinch.

War ignores my earlier unspoken command and raises her sword to rest it against Maximinus’ neck.

“Don’t fucking touch him,” she snarls. “Ever. Again.”

“I could kill you with a thought, don’t you realize that?” Maximinus murmurs. “I could bend your own sword against you and shove it through your eye.”

His hand is still hovering above my cheek.