Transmigrated As A Feisty Omega
Chapter 108: He always gets the good ones

Chapter 108: He always gets the good ones

It was only after the second glare that I finally realized what he wanted me to do. I bent, and saluted the monarchs on the throne, placing my left hand on my knee and my right on my chest, right above my heart, like I saw one of the guards do.

"Rise."

I did as I was asked, and stood next to Storm.

"Why are you dressed this way, son?" The queen asked, in a tone quite different from the one I’m used to. She didn’t bark at him. It sounded more like she cared about him more than she did back in Dark Moon.

Hmm.

Could it be that their characters were reversed in this world?

"Ask your eldest son," Storm said without missing a beat. He kept his entire focus on his parents, not blinking, and didn’t seem to be joking.

Was his eldest brother the one who tried to kill him?

"What?!" The Queen gasped, while the king narrowed his eyes at him.

"What the hell are you talking about, Son? You returned and now you are —"

"Accusing the innocent?" He scoffed. "If you feel that way, then, you don’t need to bother about why I’m dressed this way." He respectfully bowed to them, though he looked as if he didn’t wish to do so.

The king cleared his throat, while his mother seemed like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.

"You defeated the kingdom of Amal, I heard." He said, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, father, I did," Storm replied in a detached tone, with no emotions showing in his tone.

"And you wiped out everyone from that cursed kingdom?" The king inquired once more.

My heart skipped a bit. The tone the king asked showed that, just like his son, he didn’t seem to like the people of the kingdom I came from.

"Yes." Storm didn’t miss a beat.

His reply caused me to frown. Why didn’t he tell his father that I came from the village? Could it be that there is something I’m not getting here?

"Good. None of them should be left alive." The king nodded, "now that the royal family is gone, we can take over their land."

Oh?

Pity one of them is still alive. Though I don’t have any wish to fight with them for lands or whatever.

"Exactly, father."

"Well, who is this young boy with you?" The Queen asked, looking at me with a knowing expression on her face. She seemed to have already known who I am but was trying to know the reply she will get from her son.

Storm glanced at me before he focused on his mother, "just a pet."

Just a pet?

I scoffed at his words, pissed that he only considers me to be a pet. Wait until he regains his memories, I will make him suffer for everything he has put me through, and that included having him sleep on his couches.

"Looks like your type, son. He’s cute." The Queen giggled, while the king tried to pretend like he was deaf.

"If there is nothing else, father, I will be on my way." Storm bowed once more to his parents.

"Nothing much. Just return and change out of those clothes. You reek of blood and death." His mother gestured for him to leave.

"As a man should."

He turned and left, while I bowed to the royals once more before I hastened after him. Storm didn’t turn to look at me as I tried to keep up with his long strides.

The guards opened the door for him the moment he stopped at the door, and that made me wonder how they got to know he was near.

"My prince."

The two guards with us bowed to him the moment we came out of the throne room. And like they did when we arrived, they flanked our rear.

This time, no new guard escorted us. Storm strode down the hall until he got to his wings. Just like the hall that led to the throne room, there are no maids around.

The only differences are the guards and the absence of gold ornaments. Here looks like a funeral home. You can feel the gloom, weighing down on us with each step we took.

Three guards stood at the beginning of the hall while one stood in the middle, each looking more hideous than the former. They have red paint streaked on their faces, making them seem more like the traditional versions of mafias.

The moment they saw us, they bowed to Storm, who ignored them.

He stopped in front of the last door in the hall and opened it before he stepped in. I did the same and the door closed behind me, leaving the other guards out.

My eyes took in his room. Similar to the hall we walked through, the colours used on the walls looked so solemn.

His double king-sized bed took over almost half part of the room. With black duvets that perfectly matched his curtains, it seemed like we were in some sort of gothic room.

The walls are painted grey and white, striped to look like the body of a zebra but without the black.

A golden table stood by the side, surrounded by three couches. Had this been in the present world I came from, there would have been 60 inches television to match the opulence of the room.

There are only two doors on the left side of the room, which obviously lead to his bedroom and closet.

"Don’t tell anyone that you are from Amal." He suddenly said, making me tear my gaze from his room to the man now standing by the bed.

"Why?" I folded my arms and raised a brow at him. "Why do you want me to deny my Kingdom?"

I’m not concerned with being an Amal or not. It’s just that I need to get a rise from him. That’s all.

"It’s for your good." He turned to face me, "you are supposed to be dead, like the others."

"Why don’t you kill me then?" I closed the distance between us and faced him, though I had to tilt my head up, so I can stare into his eyes.

"Do you wish for that?" He folded his arms and stared down at me, trying to rub it in my face that he was taller.

"Wish for what?" I mirrored the expression on his face.

He sighed, "do whatever you wish." He turned and headed into one of the doors, while I plopped down on the bed.

God.

It has been a long journey, from the kingdom he rules, back to Thalma. I just wish to sleep for two days.

A knock came on the door a few minutes later. I glanced at the bathroom door before I turned my attention to the door, too tired to rise from the bed.

It wasn’t until the knock came the third time did I rise from the bed to check on the person. I opened the door and came face to face with an older version of Storm. The only difference is the colour of his eyes. Instead of blue, his irises are green.

My eyes took in the man. I started from his head and down to his feet. Just like all the men, he’s bare-chested, with a wrapper around his waist.

The tattoos on his body looked neater compared to half of the ones I have seen so far. He only had three animals on his body.

"Who are you?" He asked in a curious tone, tilting his head a bit to look at me.

"Mega."

I decided to use my real name here because of what Storm told me. I don’t know if this prince has heard of Brys, the prince of Amal.

His eyes took me in, starting from my head, past my clothes and down to my toes.

"One of his toys, huh?"

The way he said the toy made it sound like an insult. It made me angrily grit my teeth, pissed with this motherfucker that might or might not be Storm’s brother.

"Are you looking for Storm?" I asked instead of replying to his question.

His mouth curved to the side. Without answering my question, he stepped into the room, and closed the door, looking like a god-damned predator with the way his eyes racked through me.

Oh, huh?

Seems like this one hasn’t been taught a lesson before.

"Storm always gets the pretty ones." He smiled at me, slowly licking his lower lip like one who was enjoying a savoury meal.

"What do you want?" I snapped, gradually losing my patience with him.

"Feisty? Seems like he changed his preference. This will be so much fun." He closed the distance between us and tried to touch my face, but I slapped it off with a glare levelled solely at him.

"Your brother is having his bath. If you wish to see him, I will advise you to wait." I tried not to growl at him, since he hasn’t done more than be a douche.

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