Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 167: Forest

Chapter 167: Forest

"If Lucas handed things over to his brother, it means Lucas is up to something. I figured Lucas wouldn’t be so relaxed in the dungeons if he didn’t have a backup plan," Dorian muttered as he ducked under a low-hanging branch, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his dagger.

"Of course, it was your idea," Alaric snapped, stepping directly into a patch of mud and letting out a sound of pure aristocratic disgust.

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Oh, forgive me, your royal magicness, for trying to be useful," he said. "If they’re hiding anywhere, it’ll be in the forest," he added, ducking behind another tree and peering out. "Get your magic ready, magic man."

Alaric groaned, the kind of long-suffering, dramatic groan only a man who thought very highly of himself could pull off. "You’re insufferable," he muttered. "Why Herod lets you speak is beyond me."

Dorian grinned over his shoulder.

The forest thickened around them, the setting sun filtering through the canopy, illuminating the damp underbrush.

His eyes scanned the path ahead.

Dorian crouched down, slow and silent as a panther. He picked up a log, feeling the weight of it in his hands. The moment stretched out.

He swung. The sound was sickening. Alaric dropped, blood blooming from the side of his head.

Dorian stood over him, panting. "Sorry, Al," he said.

He gave the fallen mage a light kick then wiped his brow dramatically.

This was it. The first step in righting his wrongs. It felt good.

The mating ceremony was likely starting soon. Dorian glanced up at the sky, the sun slanting lower through the trees. He wouldn’t make it back in time.

He knew he’d burned bridges. But now... now he had something worth crawling back for.

Kade was alive. His son. Alive. Breathing. Out there in a world that might burn tomorrow if Herod got his way.

And Sarah... She was having his child. He didn’t care for Sarah not in the least but she was bringing his blood into the world, and he wasn’t going to let that world fall apart under Herod’s madness.

"No more running," he muttered.

When it was all over, he’d throw himself at Lucas’s feet.

He looked back at Alaric’s crumpled form, and snorted.

*****

Herod waited. The sky had shifted from gold to navy, and still, the moon refused to rise. Typical. The celestial diva always made a dramatic entrance, but tonight, Herod swore it was intentional. The moon was mocking him. Delaying. Taunting.

Everything was in place.

The amulet pulsing faintly in his pocket. And Ava... ah, Ava would soon be his. He had grander plans. Once the mating ritual was complete, the power of the moon goddess’s bloodline would be fused with his. Their union would be cosmic. Legendary.

Whatever Lucas was plotting wouldn’t matter. Herod would break him. Grind him beneath his boot. He could almost see it, Lucas on his knees, bitter and bruised, forced to witness Ava, glorious in her new role as queen, delivering the final blow.

The guards arrived.

A hush fell over the clearing, and Herod turned, his breath catching. For all his ruthless ambition and unshakable pride, even he had to admit, Ava was stunning. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, her red gown catching what little light the stars offered. She didn’t need the moon to glow. She was the moon.

She looked, quite frankly, like someone about to smite him with divine fire.

"Ava," he said, attempting a charming smile. "You look breathtaking."

She did not look pleased.

Ava’s eyes were twin daggers of pure disappointment, and even though she didn’t say a word, Herod felt the weight of her contempt. She didn’t smile.

Still, he took her hand and led her to the prepared clearing.

The tent loomed ahead, decorated with lights and flower petals.

Then Herod turned to his guards. "Bring the prisoners."

Ava stiffened. "Prisoners?"

He could almost hear the growl in her voice, and it made his stomach flutter.

"Yes," he said smoothly. "I did promise Lucas a front-row seat to our mating. And Zoe is sentenced to death. Treason, you know. She’s the reason you were kidnapped."

Ava stared at him in horror. "You’re executing my friend. During the mating ceremony."

"Festivities should have balance!" Herod said brightly, clearly proud of his idea.

Ava blinked slowly.

"Herod, Zoe is my friend."

Herod arched a perfectly plucked brow, his eyes narrowing. "She was disloyal to the crown," he declared. "Her blood will appease the Moon Goddess."

Ava felt her stomach tighten. She blinked at him, wondering how one man could be so calmly terrifying. "Herod, please. I’m begging you,".

Herod sighed with the weariness of someone who carried the burdens of a kingdom and an overinflated sense of theatrical timing. "I need to maintain a strong kingdom," he said. "What will the rebellion think if they find out I show mercy? That I can be... reasoned with?" He gave a dramatic pause.

Ava stared blankly.

"But," Herod added, turning toward her, "so it won’t ruin your mood, the execution will happen after the mating. Is that fair?"

Ava swallowed hard. Her words vanished. She had no response. What did one say to a sentence like that?

Herod glanced upward, his face bathed in the silver light of the full moon now blazing. "Perfect," he murmured. "Even the Moon Goddess gives her blessing tonight."

Then, without warning, he took her hands in his. They were warm, strong, terrifyingly gentle. Ava tried not to flinch as he led her into the elaborately adorned mating tent. The place looked like a honeymoon suite. Rose petals carpeted the floor in heart-shaped swirls, and the bed was large and fluffy.

Herod pulled her into his arms with a softness that contradicted his earlier bloodthirsty proclamation. His lips brushed against her cheek. "I have been waiting for this moment," he said. "The moment to claim you, to make you mine once more."

He kissed her face. Ava stared blankly ahead. Just breathe. Pretend he’s someone else. Pretend you’re anywhere else.

Then he turned her around in his arms. "The goddess sent you to me, handcrafted with divine beauty and grace," he murmured into her ear. "You will be my queen. The better half of me."

Ava had the strange sensation of wanting to laugh and cry simultaneously. Better half?

She quietly played along, offering a ghost of a smile. She refused to feed into the fantasy, but she had to survive it.

Suddenly, the tent flaps rustled. Two guards entered with a clanking sound that shattered the mood. They were dragging Dennis in silver chains that sparkled. Herod’s eyes glimmered with triumph.

Herod, blind with delusion, didn’t notice the way Ava looked at Dennis. Ava forced her face into a neutral mask. She couldn’t break character now. Not when the plan hinged on timing. Not when Herod still had no clue he’d been served a decoy.

She just needed to wait... wait for the perfect moment. Wait for Herod to fully buy into his fantasy. He was taking his sweet time.

The guards exited. Dennis remained standing awkwardly, the silver chains clinking with every slight movement.

Herod, with a smug smirk, turned to face Dennis. He pressed a theatrical kiss to Ava’s shoulder, clearly more for show than affection. "Alaric would have loved to see this moment," he said. "The great Alpha Lucas Raventhorn living a nightmare."

Ava stiffened, her spine rigid as a steel rod, and not from passion. Herod might have been mistaking her silence for submission. This isn’t Lucas, you horny fool!

Dennis, for his part, gave a soft, calm smile. Ava locked eyes with him, drawing strength from that grin.

Just then, a guard’s voice rang out from outside the tent. "Your Highness!"

Herod’s head whipped around. "Enter!" he barked, clearly annoyed that someone had dared to disrupt his evening of conquest.

A breathless guard stumbled in. "Your Highness," he gasped, "the castle is under attack. Alpha Lucas’s troops are at the gate."

Herod’s lips curled into an irritated snarl. "Where is Alaric?"