“Fuck me.”
Sia blinked, his lips parting in surprise. “What… what did you just say?”
“You heard me right, Sia,” I said, stepping closer to him. Despite my pounding headache, I knew calming him down would be crucial. The purple glow in his eyes returned, and his breath grew harsh.
“I want you to calm the hell down and be with me,” I said, placing his hand between my thighs. I knew that sex was often a source of solace for men, and I hoped Sia would let go of his stubbornness and accept what I was offering.
He withdrew his hand and took a step back, his eyes still glowing. Rugged and even sexier with his colorful eyes, I couldn’t help but notice the dark tattoos adorning his arms. I made a mental note to inquire about them later.
“No,” he forced out. “I won’t calm down, and I won’t be with you. Those women tried to hurt you. No, they didn’t try, they succeeded.”
“Just drop it, Sia. I’m fine and alive, so stop worrying. What we should be discussing is your anger issues,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t have anger issues,” he replied, his tone defensive.
“Uh huh. You don’t have to lie to me, baby.”
“Maybe I do have anger issues, but it’s mostly your fault that I’m always mad.”
I arched a brow. “Really? What did I do now?”
Before Sia could respond, a sharp noise pierced the air, intensifying my headache.
“What’s that noise?” I asked, trying to pinpoint its source.
“The siren,” Sia whispered.
“I didn’t know there was a siren. What’s it for?”
“It’s only sounded during emergencies. Stay here. I’ll go check what’s wrong.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“The hell you are.”
“Don’t even start, Sia. I’m coming with you, and that’s final,” I snarled. “Just because I didn’t wake up for a few days, you think you have control over me? I don’t care if your eyes are purple or if you suddenly have tattoos. I’m coming with you, and that’s final.”
“Fine!” he snapped; his anger evident. “You have five minutes.”
I quickly dressed, straightening my clothes. “There. Now let’s go.”
As we made our way to the courtyard, I noticed servants rushing past us. The courtyard was bustling with people, and the royal family stood on a raised platform. The concubines huddled together, whispering among themselves. I tightened my grip on Sia’s wrist, urging him to avoid any confrontation. Together, we climbed onto the stage, and the concubines retreated further upon seeing his glowing eyes.
A podium stood before us, and Thjis stood behind it, wearing beach shorts and a white tee. Seriously, what was it with these Icelanders and their beach shorts? He tested the microphone before addressing the crowd.
“I couldn’t find any other way to bring my people together than through the emergency siren,” Thjis proclaimed.
“That’s ridiculous,” Eleanor murmured. “Adeline nearly had a heart attack, and she could have lost the baby.”
I blinked, trying to remember which one Adeline was among the concubines. The topic of pregnancy hadn’t been discussed before. Being an omega had its annoyances.
If Thjis heard his son, it was unclear, as he strained to listen to someone in the crowd.
“Are you saying there’s no emergency?” a voice shouted from the crowd.
“Do you want one?” the Ice King bellowed. “There’s no emergency, so everyone should calm down. The palace isn’t under attack, and we are safe-very safe.”
Massa rolled his eyes.
“If that’s true, why did you sound the siren?” Ruarc asked, his patience wearing thin.
“Well, it was the only way to gather such a crowd, and I was right! Just look at how crowded this courtyard is! Isn’t it amazing?” Thjis asked, grinning from ear to ear.
I resisted the urge to vomit. Was he insane? People were sweating in the snow and cold, even the children. Screw everyone else, but the kids? Thjis was truly sick.
“You’re mad,” Sia said softly. “I can feel it. What’s bothering you?”
“Your father, Sia. Can’t he see how overcrowded this place is? There are kids here, Sia. They might suffocate.”
“They’re Icelanders. They’ll survive.”
“Are you serious right now? Icelandic or not, they’re still kids, Sia! Kids!”
“I can’t do anything, Crinka. He’s the King. They worship every step he takes, even if it means walking on hot coals.”
“Sia…”
“Drop it. If you don’t, I’ll harm a concubine.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I whispered.
“Try me and see.”
I’d rather not. Exhaling sharply, I turned back to the so-called ‘King.’
“Save your celebrations for later, Father. Now tell us why you summoned us,” Massa spoke up.
“Yes, yes, I’m getting to that,” Thjis replied. “It’s no secret that over the years, I’ve tried to connect with the people, to bring them closer to us. But all my efforts have been in vain. Now, after a hundred years, I’ve finally found a solution. What could be better than a marriage alliance between my grandson and a noble daughter of this land?” Thjis asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yale is too young to get married, Grandpa,” Eloive interjected, his voice filled with concern. He stood with Massa, wearing a white tee and pants.
“I’m not talking about Yale, Eloive. I’m talking about you.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
“He’s too young to be married.”
“What a great idea. Now my daughter finally has a chance to be associated with royalty.”
“He’s a fine lad. He would surely have beautiful babies with my niece.”
“This is ridiculous. The boy isn’t even eighteen.”
“I got married at fourteen. This is no big deal.”
“I’ve heard he can’t even read. Is this just a ploy to get rid of him?”
These were the whispers of the king’s subjects, but Thjis ignored them all.
“I… You can’t do this to me, Grandpa,” Eloive protested, his voice breaking.
“Of course I can! I’m the king! I can do whatever I want!” Thjis bellowed, displaying his conceited nature.
Such arrogance. I took a step forward, but Sia pulled me back, his eyes still glowing.
“Don’t. You’ll regret it, Crinka. So stop,” he warned in a low tone.
“It’s… it’s not fair, Sia. Eloive doesn’t deserve this,” I pleaded with him.
“I know, but there’s nothing I can do. So drop it.”
“Sia…”
“Crinka, it would take me only a minute to reach a concubine and fifteen seconds to rip her heart out. I assume you wouldn’t want her blood on your hands. Be a good girl and drop it.”
“I’m not little.”
He glared. “Drop it.”
The authority in his voice left no room for objections, so I dropped it.
“I’m just sixteen,” Eloive whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. My heart ached for him.
“Who cares? I was seventeen when I met your grandmother.”
“But there’s a year’s difference between those ages, Grandpa,” Eloive argued before turning to Ruarc. “Father, please don’t let him do this to me.”
Ruarc didn’t spare his son a glance.
Desperate, Eloive turned to the queen. “Grandma, please.”
She ignored him.
He looked at Massa; his eyes filled with hope. “Please.”
Massa looked pained. “I can’t, Eloive. My hands are tied.”
Finally, Eloive turned to Sia. “Don’t let him do this to me, Uncle.”
Sia looked away. Now it was my turn, and I was close to tears.
“Crinka?”
My heart shattered. “I can’t… I can’t do anything about it, Eloive. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you marry the love of your life. That’s a promise.”
Eloive shook his head before running out of the courtyard.
“Eloive! Eloive!” I called out, intending to chase after him, but Sia stopped me.
“You can’t leave until Father says so.”
“Well, fuck you, and fuck your father!” I shouted, not caring if I was heard. Pushing Sia aside, I descended from the stage with the sole purpose of finding Eloive.
And find him, I did. He stood in the hallway of his palace, an empty beer bottle on the ground near his foot. Another bottle, this time filled with wine, was in his hand, which he drank from. I approached him, determined to prevent him from drowning himself in alcohol. He tightened his grip on the bottle, shaking his head.
“Stop!” he yelled, but I paid no heed, grappling with the young prince for the bottle.
“Stop,” he pleaded again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t… Don’t take away the only thing that has ever been there for me.”