Chapter 32

Arthur sneered, his gaze fixed on the alpha who had spoken. The man didn’t even have the backbone to look at him directly after he’d said it.

“I suppose you’re talking about me, right?” Arthur curled his lips in disgust. “I’m not a cowardly weakling like you who won’t even offer aid to the people who make sure his pack sleeps well at night, but I’m not a god either.”

The man flinched.

“And I don’t care about anything but that bastard, Owen.” Arthur thought back to him. “I have a score to settle with him. What happens the rest of it is up to you all to figure out.”

Silence fell over the room before Rex cleared his throat.

“If not for Arthur, I'm afraid we would have more casualties after yesterday's attack. Arthur is powerful on his own, but Owen commands the rogues. Under his horrible leadership, it’s a problem that’s beyond just one person, even if they are of the royal family.”

Rex looked at the few alphas who were not willing to help. They each averted their gazed and he scoffed.

How could he expect anything else?

“But weak warriors will only drag their feet, and we do not need more burdens.”

Each of them flushed and lowered their heads in shame. Arthur grinned as Blade nodded. Rex had been kind long enough. This wasn’t the time to pull punches when all of their lives were on the line. With the rest of them silenced by their shame, Rex, Diane, and Tom discussed the numbers and the logistics of the support that would be given.

“I only have one request,” Rex said looking at Tom and Diane. “They are not to be told that Arthur is of royal blood.”

Arthur was relieved that Rex had kept his promise to leave Arthur’s bloodline a secret

“Why?” Tom asked, his voice weary and wary.

“Because I’m not,” Arthur said.

Tom’s mouth dropped open in horror before he closed it as Arthur glared at him. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded stiffly and said nothing more.

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they stayed, but he was grateful when it was finally time to leave.

“Wait!” Tom called after them. “Prince Arthur, wait, please! I have something to tell you.”

Blade stopped and looked back but Arthur kept walking, ignoring the man.

“Prince Arthur, please! It won’t take up too much of your time!”

Arthur doubted it, but when Rex stopped in front of him, he grunted, glowering at the man unhappily. Blade gave him an amused smile before Arthur sighed and turned to Tom.

“What is it?”

Tom’s eyes brightened and gestured to a different corridor, “It’s just this way. It’s not far I promise.”

He glared down the corridor before looking back to Blade and Rex only to find them already gone.

With a huff and a growl, he stalked after Tom who seemed excited to lead him down the corridor.

“I just wanted to show you this… I meant to show it to you before, but you left in such a hurry…”

Tom continued to talk, leading him down the corridor. The tapestries grew more ornate as they walked. The iron torches on the walls turned to gold and the stone seemed more precious than the clean white stone of the other halls. Everything was clean enough but the air smelled stale as if very few people came down this hallway.

“Those servants have been slacking off!” Tom huffed. “I’ll have to give them a stern talking to…”

Arthur thought he sounded ridiculous. They were already still cleaning the castle though no one lived in it. The fact that it was even half as clean as it was should have been a reason to praise their dedication. Tom stopped at the end of the corridor where two large rectangles hung on the wall covered in sheets. He lit the two torches nearest to them and pulled the sheets off, revealing gleaming gold frames.

His heart lurched seeing them. The woman’s eyes were just like his, looking at him as if from a mirror. Her hair was dark and gleaming in the portrait. Her features were delicate and regal as she looked down from her throne. The woman’s face reminded him a bit of Alma as well, though she had dark hair. It made his hands shake so he tore his eyes from her and growled.

Tom had lost his mind, commissioning a portrait of him like this. He was going to tell him so, but the protest died in his throat. The man in the portrait was older than Arthur. His deep brown eyes looked down at him with strangely warm and regal regard. His hair was the same shade as gold as Arthur and gleaming beneath his bejeweled crown.

His stomach turned as he looked at them. There was a little whisper of doubt in his mind that made him ask, but there was nothing in him that felt truly uncertain.

“Who are they?”

Tom’s voice came out soft and misty, “Your parents, Your Highness. His Majesty, King Dean, and Her Majesty, Luna Sabina.”

The truth rang through him, shaking a part of him he swore had been long destroyed. He had never imagined that he would be able to find out what his real parents looked like. He stepped closer, drawn to the sight of them as all the questions he had started to have since finding out that he and Alma were adopted started bubbling up.

What were they like? What did they sound like? Had they loved him and Alma or had they been sent away because they were hated?

“They loved you so much, Arthur.” Tom’s voice said, sure and honest. “You were their first child, and when I was still working in the castle, they spent many hours talking about raising you to take his place and leading the werewolf kingdom as the next great king...”

Arthur didn't say anything. Tom’s voice seemed honest, but Arthur knew that he was also hoping to convince Arthur to accept his lineage and birthright. Showing him his parents was a good tactic, he could admit. He almost wanted to be angry, but the longing to hear more about his parents was overwhelming, drowning out the anger as it almost soothed his guilt about Alma’s death and the anger he’d been carrying about his treatment at Brown Valley.

“Before the rebellion, the luna had gone missing for a few weeks. In retrospect, they must have expected things to get worse, so they sent you out of the kingdom for your safety... Luna Sabina would have left with you both, to care for you and raise you, but she had a duty to her husband. More than that she loved him…”

Tom sighed, “I hope you don’t resent her for the choice. She returned to the castle after making sure you would be safe and died at your father’s side in defense of the kingdom.”

Knowing what he knew now about the royal family, he couldn’t blame her for returning to be at his father’s side. If he had survived the rebellion, he would have needed her close by to soothe him. He knew that, but when he thought of Alma, he couldn't forgive her. Sabina’s choice may have saved his and Alma’s life at the time, but it had doomed Alma to early death and him to several years of abuse.

He didn’t know if either could be called worse than the other could, so he turned from those thoughts.

“Why did Owen’s father kill his brother? What was he after?”

Tom cursed to himself, sneering as he looked back into his memories, “Duke Osborn was a bastard! He always acted so lovingly towards his brother, but he only did it so no one would notice he was spying on the king! He said King Dean didn't deserve to be king, but did he deserve it? He was a general who led the army against the vampires, and he contributed to the prosperity of the kingdom, but it was King Dean who ruled the kingdom and supported those endeavors. Without the king's support, he could not have won.”

Tom shook his head, “His mate would have still died…”

Arthur’s heart lurched, “His mate died?”

Tom nodded, gravely, “In childbirth. The loss of his mate coupled with his ambitions likely drove him to start the rebellion... He is dead. We found his burnt body in the castle. His son, however, is still alive...”

“Owen,” Arthur whispered and looked back at Tom.

His eyes shimmered with tears as he looked at Arthur.

“I don't expect you to accept your identity right away, but Arthur, Owen has royal blood in him. By blood, he is in line for the throne.” Tom sneered with disgust. “Imagine that murderous lunatic ruling the kingdom your parents died defending from his father! It can’t happen, so please—”

“I told you I don’t care about that,” Arthur looking back at the portraits, trying to imprint them in his mind. “As for Owen, I will kill him.”

He turned away from the portraits and left Tom standing in the corridor alone.