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Chapter 82 - He Picked The Wrong Washed-Up Gamma's Son

"No time. We need to go. Now."

Serena was sitting with Elara in her oversized room. Her crown was still on, but she was in silk shorts and a matching camisole, winding down for bed. 

The tone in Hale's voice was all she needed. She threw socks on, pulled on boots, and grabbed a black cloak.

Hyran and Gav entered a moment later. Without a word, Hyran opened a portal. 

Elara looked just as perplexed as Serena. But they both went through the portal. 

Three seconds.

That's how long it took between the portal sealing shut and someone shoving the tent flap open aggressively.

Viremont came through first, followed by his men.

"Viremont," Gav said calmly. "I must admit, this is unexpected."

"Where is she?" Viremont asked.

Gav took his time answering. "Going to have to be more specific."

"Tiberon's favorite toy." Viremont's voice was low with anger. 

"Still not specific."

Viremont's jaw clenched so hard Gav could hear the teeth. "Fine. I want my daughter. Now."

"Agnes has been offered a portal to Viremont territory for two weeks," Gav said, his tone bored. "She's declined every offer."

"I am not going to be managed by some washed-up gamma's son who is entirely too young to be in his seat," Viremont said. He looked at Hale. "And a warrior dressed up as a beta."

His alpha aura flared, but Hyran, Gav, and Hale stood solid, unflinching.

"She's not in this tent," Gav said. "Neither of them."

"Then where."

"Drakenfell."

Viremont looked past Hale at the door to the sleeping quarters. He shoved past, shouldering Hale hard.

His men poured in behind him. One of them kicked Serena's trunk open. Another yanked the blankets off the bed. 

Empty.

He turned, nostrils flared, chest heaving, and for a moment looked like a man who had been told the punchline to a joke he did not find funny.

"I smell her. She was here."

"Touch one more thing in this tent," Gav said from the partition entrance, his voice stripped of every trace of humor, "and I will have you escorted out of our camp in chains."

Six Drakenfell soldiers entered the tent in that moment.

Hale's eyes narrowed on Viremont. "I'm going to say this once. Clearly. So there's no confusion."

"You do not enter Drakenfell tents without prior notice. You do not bring armed escorts unless cleared through our command."

"If you need to speak with a member of King Tiberon's delegation, you put in a formal request and you wait for a response."

Viremont stared at him. His expression had settled into something sour.

"You have no idea what you are involving yourself in. I will get my daughter."

"Noted. Get out of my tent."

Viremont held his gaze for three full seconds. Then he turned, jerked his chin at his men, and left. The tent flap closed.

Hale turned to the nearest Drakenfell soldier. "Double the watch. Rotating pairs. Nobody gets in without clearance."

The soldier nodded and went.

"I'll notify Tiberon," Gav said. "But I don't want Serena sleeping here."

Hale's jaw tightened. "I'll handle it."

✦✦✦

Across Skardos in Drakenfell, Dexmon sat against his headboard with his eyes open and no idea why he was awake.

His mind was foggy, thick and suffocating. Somewhere beneath it, something was trying to get out.

He kept reaching for his wolf, but his wolf was silent. But, his parents were what tipped him off.

Clue #1: Tiberon and Bellatrix were in the same room and not arguing.

Clue #2: Bellatrix had been organizing his bookshelf for the last hour. She didn't do tasks like that.

Clue # 3: Tiberon had been staring out the window. Wasting time. His father was ruthless and efficient. 

Neither of them had stepped foot in his quarters in years. 

The bedroom doors opened, and Alaric entered with Gav behind him.

Tiberon turned, addressing Alaric first.

"Status."

"We were able to confirm both suspected compounds in his blood," Alaric said. 

"Same prognosis?" Tiberon asked.

Alaric swallowed. 

"Yes. For now. The dark magic is too far in his neural pathways," he answered, not cushioning. "But given that, he should be a vegetable. So we're already better off than what this could be."

Tiberon gave an emotionless nod.

"Sterling."

"Viremont came in swinging with six soldiers and made a scene. Full demands, the whole performance. He wanted Agnes."

Dexmon sat up slightly. "Agnes, where is Agnes?"

No one responded. No one looked at him. He might as well have not been in the room.

"Also. I know something that reverses dark magic embedded in the body. It saved my life."

Alaric went very still.

"Say that again."

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