Page 111 of Bonds of Pain
“Father is testing you,” Alexandria says softly, her voice pitched for my ears alone. “He’s always testing all of us, measuring our worth through bloodshed and competition.”
“He is ensuring that the strongest of us succeeds him,” I counter, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears.
Alexandria laughs without humor. “Is that what you tell yourself?” Her hand covers mine briefly, a gesture of rare affection. “He’s been manipulating you your entire life, Logan. Making you believe violence is the only path to power.”
“This coming from the woman whose husband runs the country’s intelligence network?” I shoot back. “Don’t pretend your hands are clean.”
“I never said they were.” She withdraws her hand, a shadow crossing her face. “But at least I recognize the cage I’m in. You still think you’re free.”
I scan the room, spotting Maya still engaged with the children. She’s shown more genuine emotion in the past hour than in all our private moments combined. Something twists in my chest at the realization.
“Father believes strength is everything,” Alexandria continues. “That to rule effectively, one must be feared above all else.” She pauses, waiting until I meet her gaze. “But it is a very dangerous game to play when you make enemies everywhere you go.”
I glance at Alexandria, intrigued by her assessment of the political landscape. As the eldest of my siblings, she’s always had an uncanny ability to read between the lines of court politics.
“Have you heard anything specific?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “Your husband must have said something to you about the growing unrest.”
Alexandria’s golden eyes—so like my own—flicker briefly toward the guards stationed at the far end of the room. Her expression remains placid, but I detect the subtle tightening around her mouth that always signals caution.
“There are always pockets of resistance,” she says carefully. “Always whispers of discontent. But nothing organized enough to concern yourself with at the moment. I’m more worried about what Father’s influence is doing to you.”
I follow her gaze to where Maya kneels among the children, her purple hair a vibrant contrast against their golden curls. My nieces cluster around her, captivated by whatever story she’s telling them. The sight stirs something unexpected within me—a vision of Maya with children of our own, perhaps. A future I hadn’t allowed myself to contemplate amid the chaos of recent events.
“I’m exactly what I need to be,” I reply, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
Alexandria’s hand covers mine briefly. “You won’t always be heir, Logan. Someday, you’ll be king. You’ll have the power to shape this kingdom however you choose, not just follow in Father’s footsteps.”
I pull my hand away. “And what would you have me do differently?”
“Find a way to rule that doesn’t require breaking everything you touch.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Including that Omega who clearly doesn’t want to be here.”
I stiffen, anger flaring hot in my chest. “You know nothing about my relationship with Maya.”
“I know fear resentment when I see it,” Alexandria counters. “And I’ve seen enough royal matches to recognize when someone is performing their role rather than embracing it.”
The accuracy of her assessment hits uncomfortably close to home. I push away the guilt that threatens to surface, focusing instead on the bigger picture.
“Sometimes violence is necessary to ensure peace,” I say, my voice hardening. “Father understands that. It’s why Melilla has prospered under his rule.”
Alexandria’s expression turns sad. “And there it is. You sound exactly like him.”
I want to argue, to defend myself, but something stops me. The image of Viktor’s bloodied face rises unbidden in my mind, followed by the memory of Ander’s skull cracking beneath my fists. The weight of blood on my hands—some justified, some perhaps not—suddenly feels heavier than before.
I don’t want more blood on my hands. But I’ll shed rivers of it if that’s what it takes to protect what’s mine. To ensure that Cillian and Maya survive whatever storm is coming. The king has made it clear that weakness won’t be tolerated, especially now.
“Father’s methods have kept this kingdom united and strong,” I say instead, watching Maya rise gracefully from among the children. “Sometimes hard choices must be made for the greater good.”
Alexandria stands, straightening her elegant dress. “Just remember, little brother—the person you become on your journey to the throne is the person who will sit upon it.” She glances meaningfully toward Maya. “Make sure it’s someone you can live with.”
She walks away before I can respond, leaving me alone with thoughts I’d rather not examine too closely. The weight of thecrown—even one I don’t yet wear—presses down on me like a physical burden.
I watch Maya approach, her perfect courtly mask slipping back into place with each step toward me. The genuine smile she wore with the children fades, replaced by the careful neutrality she wears as a mask to hide her emotions.
But she doesn’t resist as I gather her to my side, despite the tension in her body.
I’ll take her resistance and her hatred, if that’s what it takes to ensure she survives.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
