Chapter 29 - Please, have mercy

HADRIAN

Nero is rolling around and wagging his tail, like a lovesick puppy instead of a ferocious wolf. He should be acting like the strong, powerful and feared wolf that everyone believes he is, but he freaking adores Emma. He’s not bothered by the fact that she was hiding silver daggers from us. Objects that could kill us. He’s completely blinded to those facts.

*“She saved us.”* He counters.

Emma doesn’t move away. Her eyes are slightly hooded and clouded with hunger. Her scent becomes impossibly sweet. Somehow she’s affected by the mate bond too. This is not what she wants. She made it clear that she hates my guts.

I move away from her and she blinks when the contact is broken and space breathes between us. The hunger disappears from her eyes and is replaced by confusion. Her face flushes and I don’t stand by to watch. I might do something I’ll regret.

Nero grumbles in annoyance for the space I put between us and I roll my eyes at him. His judgment is clouded.

One of my father’s guards approaches me and bows down. “Speak.” I tell him.

“The hearing of the rogue starts in ten minutes, sir.”

I nod and proceed my way to the hall. The anxiety in my body grows with every step I take towards the throne room and away from my office. Nero is squirming and arguing to go back. He pushes the feelings of longing and sadness through me until the only thing I want to do is hold Emma in my arms until all the sadness leaves my body. I grit down my teeth.

*“We can’t.” *

My father sits on his regular spot on the throne. Stark lines run deep in his skin. He has a calculative look on his face and doesn’t acknowledge my arrival. His amber eyes are dark and menacing. And thirsty for blood.

Nero growls at him as always and I suppress him to the back of my mind. The two seats beside the King are empty and so is the table in front. I take my place beside my father. The seat of my sister's seat is empty and I wonder where she might be.

“How are your wounds?”

“Non-existent father.” It is true, there is not even a scar left.

“Hmm.” The hum of my father is thoughtful and rumbles through the room.

“Tell me, how was a lowly citizen able to attack someone from Royal blood?” He asks in a low and threatening voice.

I stay as still as possible. I’ve already shown great weakness, when the rogue attacked me. Telling that I was exhausted will only drag me down more.

“It was a surprise attack.”

The corners of his mouth turn down and a disapproving scowl mares his face. The doors of the throne room open and Beta Marcus and Gamma Silvius enter the room.

Beta Marcus bows down to my father and my father nods at him. "Princess Morana has made progress with the targets going North. There is a lead that the targets escaped on the open waters, but Princess Morana has picked up their trails in Septentrion.”

“Good. They won’t make it far there.” The King drawls.

My sister is back on a mission. Hunting for human girls with blue eyes. The idea gives me a sudden unease. It twists in an odd way in my gut. My father has put the humans through despair and suffering for his own revenge. His purpose, to avenge his mate. It has been this way for seven years, I’ve known this for seven years. I was angry too. Now I feel sick just thinking about it.

Beta Marcus and Gamma Silvius take their respective seats and cast a quick glance at me. For a few seconds it stays silent, but then the sound of the heavy door echoes through the room again.

Two guards drag in a limp body by a silver chain. The guards wear thick leather gloves to prevent silver burns. The rogue isn’t that lucky. The cuffs around his hands create gaping wounds that bleed down his arms. The rogue is wearing ragged clothes that are too big for his frame. He has gray hair mixed with brown. The man looks up and his skin is ghostly white, his eyes are clouded with grief and the lines in his face show his age.

Werewolves can live for a few hundred years, if they’re not killed for power. This man has lived for a while, maybe even a hundred years. It’s hard to say.

“You’ve attacked a member of the royal family and for that you'll be punished.” My father drawls.

“Please, Your Highness, Let me explain. My daughter has disappeared—“

“Silence! Have you no respect for your King at all.” Beta Marcus calls.

One of the guards tugs at the silver chain and the rogue falls forward on the ground with a cry of pain.

The man crawls up. “Please, have mercy.”

My stomach turns, watching the anguish and the treatment he receives. I swallow the lump in my throat and ball my fists to keep me in my place. Speaking up will only make things worse.

“At sundown, you shall receive a hundred silver whips.” The King orders.

A hundred silver whips will kill this man and a chill runs over my back and pulls at my old scars.

The man is dragged out of the room as he shouts for a chance to explain, but his words are cut off when the doors close. Unease tugs in my chest.

*“We have to hear him out.”* Nero says and I agree with him.

————

The tunnels to the dungeons under the palace are cold and humid. Water from the river seeps through the bricks and trickles down the walls. There is no light in the tunnels, but my eyes have little trouble seeing in the dark. In the distance I hear howls and pleads from the prisoners. It bounces off the walls and travels through the tunnels.

I’m dressed in old jeans and a black hoodie. The hood obscures my face as much as possible. I pass the silver prison bars of the cells. The scent is overwhelming and diminishes any scent of living beings. It burns in my airways. At least nobody will know I was here.

I hide from the guards and wait for them to pass. I don’t want them to know that I’m here. I don’t want them to tell my father. I hear the familiar voice of the rogue in the distance and follow it through the tunnels.

I make sure to stand a safe distance away from the silver bars. The rogue is hunched down on the floor and mutters to himself. His eyes are on the floor. The chains on his wrist are gone, but the open wounds remain. Silver creates deep injuries that can take weeks to heal.

The rogue looks up when he notices my presence and I indicate for him to stay quiet. I mind link him. *“Talk.”*

The rogue looks around, but we’re alone. He looks me up and his head falls back down. *“You cannot help me, Prince Hadrian. You’re part of the problem.”*

*“What problem?”* I growl.

He lifts his head and just looks at me for a moment. *“You don’t even know, do you?”* He scoffs.

I grit my teeth and force out my royal aura. *“Tell me.”* I don’t give him an option to refuse my request.

The rogue squirms under my presence. *“I tried to get an audience with the King for months now, ever since the day that my daughter disappeared.”*

*“The king gives audiences every month.”* I counter.

The rogue scoffs. *“Those are fake, corrupted. The King doesn’t want to hear about the hardships that his citizens go through.”*

I narrow my eyes at him, but the rogue hangs his head again.

*“I thought if I could just make the King listen to me, that he might help search for my daughter. But I should’ve known.”* The man is beaten and broken and in twelve hours he will meet the cracking of the silver whip.

I grind my teeth and ball my fists. *“This is not the way.” *

“I had to try.” He whispers out loud.

The footsteps of two guards come closer and I turn my head to listen. *“I have to go. I’ll come back.” *