Chapter 39

“Get up,” Russel commanded.

His brothers grudgingly got back to their feet. Each one stared at him with so much intense hatred that Lola could almost feel it. It was like heat wafting outward from a fire. She stood next to the throne, not saying a word and still trying to recover from the emotional train wreck she’d just been through. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see his father savagely beating Russel. She could see the swollen, caved-in mess of his face. The opened slashes to most of his body. Even now, he was still far from okay. The damage inflicted on him was healing but it was a sluggish and torturously slow process.

“What is your will, My King,” Roland said through tightly gritted teeth. His body was practically shaking with rage and there were definite notes of bitterness to his voice.

“Reid,” Russel said.

“Yes, My King,” Reid said. He looked angry as well but not nearly as enraged as Roland. Already his body went into a more relaxed state. He was smart enough to realize the shifting climate of power within the kingdom and was not going to do anything rash.

“Send for Batholomew and have him bring a team of servants here. They’re to have father’s body be prepared for the funeral.”

Reid bowed low, showing great respect.

“Of course. It shall be done,” he said and then departed.

“Raylan,” Russel said.

The short, hairy brother perked up and paid attention. He had a scowl on his face and his eyes were narrowed. His jaw clenched and unclenched so rhythmically, it was almost like a separate heartbeat.

“Yes…,” he paused and emphasized his next words with a guttural, growling sound. “My King.”

“Fetch the war council. And make sure you bring General Edvar with you. At this time of day, he will most likely be found at Marla’s pleasure house.” Russel locked eyes with Ray. “Stress upon him the necessity of his presence.”

“Aye, M’King.” He bowed stiffly and then left.

“Rutger,” Russel said, continuing his pattern of calling out each individual brother.

“My King,” Rutger said, bowing. The shock of his father’s death and the subsequent events seemed of little concern for him. In fact, he looked pretty nonchalant about the whole thing now.

“I want you to send word throughout the kingdom that the throne has been seized and there is a new king. Have runners sent to Yorkvil, Sancton, Polvshire, Idrys, Migfor, Kraywyn, and the smaller farming, fishing, and hunting villages in the countryside.”

“What of the other kingdoms, Sire?” Rutger asked, inquiring about Alcroft, Harvenk, and Sarchi.

“Don’t bother,” Russel answered. “They’ll find out soon enough.”

“As you command, My King,” Rutger said. He bowed and then left the throne room as well.

“And finally,” Russel said, staring down at Roland. He had purposefully ignored him before and made sure he waited to address him last. It was a show of superiority. Of strength. Roland would be the one to test him first. Which meant he had to assert dominance quickly. “Roland.”

“Yes, My King?” Roland said, still through clenched teeth. His eyes were practically burning, they were so filled with hate.

“Fetch me clothes and have the cook make me and my guest, Lola Tarnvol, something to eat.” He turned to Lola, his face already looking much better even though it was far from healed completely. “What would you like to eat? You must be hungry.”

“Yes. Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said with a grin, even offering him a tidy curtsy even though she wasn’t wearing a dress. Then she looked at Roland, remembering the torment he put Russel through. As much as she would love to rub all of this in his face, she kept her pettiness in check. “Just something simple will be fine. Whatever is easiest for the cook.”

“As you wish, My Lady,” he said, although still grudgingly. “And what would you like, My King?”

“Steaks, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and a fresh salad will suffice for both of us. Have everything brought directly to my rooms, the ones in the southwest section of the castle. You know the ones,” Russel instructed.

Roland’s anger became more intense when he said that, which was understandable. Those rooms used to belong to their father and out of all the children Carter Polver had, Roland had been the one stuck so far up his ass, it was a miracle the man didn’t smell like shit. He didn’t love the man. Russel didn’t think Carter had earned that from any of his children, but he knew Roland had respected him for his power. His power and the way he commanded obedience throughout the entire kingdom. Not a soul outside the castle ever dared to look up at him as he walked by.

That was the kind of respect Roland sought and now that opportunity had been ripped out from under him. He could issue the Blood Challenge himself, but Russel was pretty sure not one of them would have the guts for that. Carter Polver was well known for being one of the strongest and most powerful werewolves in the entire world. The fact that Russel had taken him down, somehow, meant he was a hell of a lot stronger than any of the brothers had ever thought. That fear of his power would serve Russel well, especially when it came to keeping the four of them under control.

“Aye, My King. It will be done and everything will be brought to your rooms,” Roland said. He got up, stiffly and with clenched fists, and then left. The way he walked out of the throne room with his back ramrod straight made him look like he had a metal rod shoved straight up his ass. It was preposterous and nearly made Russel break down and laugh hysterically.

He managed, just barely, to keep that bottled up. Inciting Roland to even more anger and humiliation would be a bit over the top and have serious consequences he wasn’t in the proper state to deal with at the moment.

The door to the throne room opened and then banged shut after Roland left.

The only ones remaining inside the throne room were Russel, Lola, and the human servants, Zeo and Enok. Russel sat back down on the obsidian throne. He breathed in for a few moments and then his head swiveled to the two humans who were still silent with their eyes straight ahead, staring at nothing. Lola wasn’t sure who was who but one was tall, broad-shouldered, with a mass of black curly hair and dark skin. The other was the complete opposite. He was slim but lithe with shoulder-length blonde hair and pale skin.

“Zeo,” Russel said, his voice much softer than when he spoke to his brothers. “Enok.”

The two instantly seemed to come alive and walked over to stand in front of the throne. They both dropped to one knee and kept their heads bowed so that their eyes were on the floor. No words came out of their mouths but there was a sense of waiting about them nonetheless.

“I understand you were only following my father’s orders but you put hands on someone I care deeply about,” he said, his voice soft but full of authority. “Look at me.”

Their faces rose and their eyes met the new king’s.

“Apologize.”

Something hard and extremely unpleasant entered Russel’s voice then and his eyes wouldn’t stray from Zeo or Enok. Lola wasn’t sure she liked this aspect of him, even though he was trying to have these two men atone for what they’d done to her.

“Really, it’s okay,” Lola said, reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm. “It’s not their fault.”

Russel looked at her, that anger and unpleasant look still on his face but when he saw the hesitation, the fear, in Lola, he visibly relaxed.

“You both may go,” he said and waved them off with a gesture. “But before you do, know this. Do not ever put hands on Lola again unless you are doing so to protect her from a threat. Understood?”

They both nodded at the same time and then looked at Lola. They did something curious then. Both of them put their fists to their chests and then rotated them in a circular motion a few times. After that, they turned and walked out of the throne room.

Lola looked at Russel with a questioning look. He seemed to know what she was thinking.

“It is a language developed in our kingdom that allows people to talk with their hands. The deaf and the mute use it. We call it sign language. That was the sign for ‘sorry,’” he said. “Neither one can speak because when they were boys, my father had their tongues cut out of their heads. It was to make them more obedient servants.”

“That’s horrible,” Lola said.

“He was…not a good man,” Russel said, looking down at the corpse.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Despite his father being cruel and essentially beating Russel to near death, she still saw tears in his eyes. He was sad at what he’d had to do to save them both.

“No,” he said in a hushed tone. Then he looked at her and tried to smile reassuringly. It was a grotesque-looking thing with his still-healing face but she appreciated the gesture. “But I will be, in time. All we can do now is move forward. And, speaking of which, we shall now move forward to my new rooms. Let’s get away from all of this.” He jerked his head at the corpse of his father, all the blood, the broken columns, and everything else.

Lola nodded, more than happy to get away from all the reminders of Russel’s fight with his father.

He got up from the throne and when Lola tried to help him up, he gently told her no.

“No matter how badly I am hurt or how injured I am, I can never accept that kind of help from someone else. It will make me look weak and that could be dangerous,” he explained.

“That feels like a foolish custom but given what I’ve seen of werewolf life, I guess I can understand that. I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” she told him.

With that, they left the throne room and Russel easily guided them through the castle to a secluded section that didn’t see much in the way of foot traffic. Guards were posted as well for extra security. These were grim-faced soldiers that gave them respectful nods of their heads as they passed.

Eventually, they came to a door and Russel opened it. He let Lola go inside first. Once they did, Russel closed the door behind him but not before instructing the guards outside to only let the servant delivering food and clothing through.

The fireplace was going inside and there were a few torches along the walls guttering with fire. It gave his new room a comfortable and warm look to it. He immediately went into the bathroom and found that a bath had already been drawn for him.

“I am going to go wash all this off,” Russel told Lola. He gestured at all the blood and grime covering most of his body. “You should rest. You’ve been through a lot too.”

Lola didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she grabbed his hand and gently pulled him toward the bath. She guided him to it and once inside, he gladly slid under the water. She grabbed one of the washrags, dipped it into the water, and started to gently scrub his skin. The perfumed and milky water started to turn pink almost immediately.

“Just relax,” Lola told him, her voice soothing.

Russel leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the water soothe his battered and abused body.

“Lola?” he asked, still with his eyes closed. He felt his heart start beating a little quicker. He knew he had to ask his next question but he wasn’t sure how she would react. He also wasn’t sure what her answer would be and if he would like it.

“Yes?”

His eyes opened and he looked up at her. She was still washing the blood off him but she was crying now at seeing just how badly he’d been hurt because of her. She also hated him a little for scaring her so badly.

He reached up and gently wiped her tears away. She leaned into his hand as he did.

“Why did my father want you dead? And why did Drake?”