TWO AGAINST THE ONE ROTTEN EGG

TWO AGAINST THE ONE ROTTEN EGG
SENECA VEYLOR'S POV

“YOU HAD NO RIGHT!” 

Past midnight, the door to the throne room slammed open so hard that dust rained from the ceiling.

Just about time. I'd been waiting.

My brother, Orion, strode in panting, jersey still on. 

His feet were bare and dusty, a tell-tale sign of how he must have scurried through the North, tearing through streets and forests alike, hunting his breeder’s scent.

Meanwhile, she was chained and thrown into the deepest dungeon, scent and bond severed with Ziarah’s magic so he could never track her through the Titan dragon mark he’d sunk into her.

One of our unspoken rules as Dominuses was no fighting before humans. Just common sense. And apparently the only rule Orion respected enough to stop himself from looking like an emotional mess in front of them.

But now, chest heaving, strands of wet platinum hair plastered to his forehead, he looked ready to bring the world to its knees.

There was no remorse. 

Just anger. 

Fuming, feral, green eyes turned full-blown red. Almost mid shift. His Titan dragon’s wings were fighting to burst out of his shoulder blades, as if they were seconds from sprouting out of his back and over his head. The recessed ceiling lights overhead flickered under the surge of heatwaves coming off him, responding to his energy. His claws were extended. Drool dripping down his chin. 

He looked absolutely-fucking rabid. 

I knew how maddening it must feel to lose track of the human girl he marked.

But I couldn’t care less.

Not while Riley was still unconscious.

Not while…

I lounged back on my throne, pretending boredom, a glass of bourbon balanced against my knee.

On my right, Malrik had stayed to watch the drama, chugging liquor straight from the bottle like water.

Impatiently, Orion growled.

“Where is she?”

Malrik snorted.

I lifted my tumbler, draining it slowly before answering. “You said I had no right. No right to what, brother? Harming a human who crossed the line?”

Orion took a huge leap forward. “She crossed your line? Maybe it was self defense. Maybe yours struck first. Did you investigate? Besides, if your breeder hadn’t been an easy mark, mine wouldn’t have touched her!”

Easy mark. 

My brow arched. “So you’re justifying the attack.”

“I am merely stating facts, brother!”

Malrik interceded. “Hear yourself. You sound stupid.”

“If his breeder can’t handle pressure, he should keep her caged and away from the cities!”

“Pressure isn’t the right word for attack,” Malrik chipped in again.

“Attempted murder,” I corrected. “My breeder was left in a critical state. Still is.”

Orion looked like he couldn't care less. “At least she survived. Where is mine? Where is she, Seneca? Tell me you didn’t hurt her!”

Once again, Malrik scoffed.

This time, Orion’s head whipped in his direction with a snarl. “What is your problem?”

“You,” Malrik replied without hesitation. “You are my problem.”

“Weren’t you on my side a few hours ago?”

“On the ice, Orion. Not here when you’re clearly in the wrongs.”

“You think this is a joke?”

“Yes brother. You obviously are a joke.”

Orion lunged another step further, so close I could smell the sulphur off his skin. 

Supposedly, it was two against one. And knowing my brother like the back of my hand, he never liked to be on the losing side. 

I knew he was just seconds from actually attacking.

“Tell me where she is,” He growled, at me, spittles flying. “Tell me what you did to her!”

I didn’t answer.

He took another step.

I braced myself. 

Kaelith rumbled in excitement from the oncoming attack. 

But before any of us could take the first leap, through my peripheral, I saw Malrik taking a swift swig from the bottle, lowering it from his mouth immediately after the first gulp and letting it drop. 

It rolled with a clink, hit the floor at the bottom of the throne steps.

Shattered.

Liquor splashed across the stone.

That stopped the growl in Orion’s throat.

That made me straighten.

That made Kaelith hush.

Malrik never wasted liquor.

Not once, not ever…. But now…  he was bracing, legs twitching, like he was seconds away from being the one to launch the first attack. 

“So let me get this straight,” he said hoarsely. “You and your breeder plotted to kill his. Tables turned. And now you barge in demanding yours back?”

Orion didn’t deny or confirm the accusation. 

“This is between me and Seneca,” he growled. 

“No,” Malrik said smoothly. “This is between all three of us.”

“You don’t even have a breeder.”

“Point of correction,” Malrik countered. “I chose not to compete in the stupidity you’ve been breeding.”

Shock was an understatement; Orion looked bewildered.

“If you know what’s good for you…” He bared his fangs as a form of intimidation. “...you’ll stay out of this.”

Malrik wasn’t backing down. “And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave now, brother.”