Chapter 149 The Decree
Chapter 146
Jax's POV
"You mean Theodore?" I asked. My voice was quiet, but the question felt heavy in the air.
She nodded her head. Once. Twice. Up and down like a broken toy.
"That bastard!" The words exploded from my mouth before I could stop them.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt. The pain helped me focus. Helped me think through the red anger that wanted to cloud everything.
I turned to a servant standing near the door. A young man with wide, frightened eyes. "Go call Theodore for me. Now!"
The servant bowed quickly and ran from the room. His footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Brielle knelt down on the floor like a slave waiting for her death sentence. Her whole body shook. Crying. Sobbing. The sounds came from deep in her chest, loud and painful. Her face was buried into the ground, pressed against the cold tiles. Shame covered her like a heavy blanket. Like a cloth wrapped too tight around her body, suffocating her.
I looked around the room.
The living room was filled up with palace workers now. They had appeared like ghosts, drawn by the noise and the drama. Young omegas. Old omegas. Mature workers who had been here for decades. Beta servants. Guards in their armor. All of them crowded around us in a circle.
Surprises were painted on their faces. Their eyes were wide. Their mouths hung open. Some whispered to the person next to them. Others just stared.
Everyone kept wondering what was happening. Murmuring filled the air like buzzing insects. Some were hissing through their teeth.
Some were looking at Brielle with eyes that burned with anger. Eyes that could consume her if they had the power. Eyes full of judgment and hate.
But that didn't get to me. I didn't believe in any one of them anymore. Not really. A lot of them might have been working with her to make this happen. Any of them could be hiding secrets. Any of them could be planning against me right now, even as they pretended to be shocked.
Trust was dead in this palace. Dead and buried.
A few moments later, the servant rushed back into the living room. His face was red from running. He was breathing hard. The living room was filled up to the teeth now with people. Bodies pressed close together. The air felt thick and hot.
But two people were missing from the crowd.
Lyra and Rosa.
Myself and Lyra had discovered together when Brielle was hiding the recorder. We had watched from the bedroom, hidden in the shadows. So Lyra knowingly didn't want to show up now. She didn't want to be part of this drama. Smart woman.
But what about Rosa? Where was my wife?
Had she gone ahead to meet her lover again without letting me know? Was she with him right now while her servant was being exposed as a traitor?
The thought made my stomach twist with something ugly. Something dark.
I pushed it aside. Later. I would deal with Rosa later.
I turned my attention back to Brielle on the floor.
"How much were you paid to bug my cottage?"
My voice is cold now. Cold as ice in winter. Cold as death.
Brielle didn't utter a single word. She only buried her face deeper into the ground. Her wet hair, mixed with sweat and tears, covered her face like a curtain. The strands stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Her whole body trembled.
She couldn't look up. Couldn't meet my eyes.
"Am I speaking to a statue?" I bellowed. My voice filled the entire room. It bounced off the walls and ceiling. "Or are your lips not working anymore?"
I was seething with anger now. I could feel it burning in my chest, in my throat, behind my eyes.
I began to walk around her. Slowly. Step by step. I circled her like she was prey presented as lunch to a hungry predator. Like a wolf circling a wounded deer. My boots made soft sounds on the floor.
Intense hissing and murmuring filled the air from the crowd. They pressed closer, wanting to hear everything. Wanting to see everything.
"He paid..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. So quiet I almost couldn't hear it. Brielle tried to gather herself. She sucked in a shaky breath. Then another. Before the words came out like a disease being spit from her mouth. "Theodore paid me three hundred shekels."
Three hundred shekels.
The price of my safety. The price of my life.
Three hundred shekels to betray me? To betray the crown.
The hissing and murmuring intensified. It grew louder. People gasped. Someone in the back cursed under their breath.
"Order!" One of the guards instructed. His voice was sharp and commanding. "Decorum follows."
The noise died down a little. But the tension remained thick in the air. Heavy. Dangerous.
"So what was the reason why he asked for the favor?" I stopped circling. Stood in front of her. Looking down at the top of her head.
I could hear her breathing from where she knelt down. Huge, gasping breaths. Loud enough to shake the walls. Heavy enough to remove the pillars of the building from their roots. Each breath sounded like it hurt.
She burst into more tears. Fresh ones that poured down her face like a waterfall. Her voice thickened like the face of a dark cloud ready to pour rain that would sweep the earth away. Rain that would flood everything and destroy it all.
"T...Theodore is...my fated mate."
The words dropped like a stone into still water.
Mmmmnmnmm...
More murmurs from the crowd. Shocked sounds. Angry sounds. Then dead silence followed. The kind of silence that screamed louder than any noise.
Fated mate. The bond that couldn't be broken. The connection written in the stars and the moon.
"We had something going on..." Her voice was small now. Weak. Like a child confessing to stealing sweets.
"Don't divert my question," I quickly countered. My hand shot out, pointing at her like a sword ready to strike. "Answer the question I asked you."
She flinched. Pulled back like I had hit her.
"Theodore said you brought woes to the pack."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"I brought woes to the pack?" I repeated. My voice sounded strange to my own ears. Hollow. Hurt.
The words shredded my heart. Tore it into pieces. After everything I had done. After all the sacrifices. After all the sleepless nights trying to protect these people, trying to lead them, trying to keep them safe.
And this is what they thought of me?
"He is working with some powerful names in the neighboring pack to seize the crown from you." The words spilled out of Brielle now like water from a broken dam. Fast. Unstoppable. "He said your father's reign was far better than yours. Far better. He said you brought the wrath of the gods upon..."
"Enough! Enough of that bullshit!"
I didn't allow her to finish. My voice cut through the air like a well-sharpened blade slicing through skin. My thick voice, laced with fury, silenced everything. Every sound. Every breath.
Murmuring resumed in the crowd. Like we were performing stage acts in a theater. Like this was entertainment for them. They all gathered around us even closer now. A tight circle of bodies and faces.
A moment later, the servant that I had instructed to go call Theodore for me came back. He walked slowly this time. His head was down. His shoulders slumped.
I looked behind the tall and lanky servant as he bowed his head low. Too low.
But Theodore wasn't with him.
"Where is Theodore?" I roared like a wounded lion. My voice shook the room. Made people step back. "Where is he?"
"S...sorry my lord..." The servant's voice shook with fear. "Theodore is not around."
Not around.
The words made my blood run cold.
"Why?" The question came out as a growl.
"He left this morning to follow the soldiers. They went to go fetch the Circle of Og for the upcoming moon festival."
"Fuck!" I snapped. The curse word echoed in the silent room. "Do you know the direction they took?"
"I know, your honor, but they would have gone far by now." The servant's words tumbled out quickly. "I would not be able to meet up with them. They left at dawn. They would have gone far. Very far."
"Definitely," I added bitterly. I turned my attention to him fully. "The journey would take like seven days before coming back to the pack, right?"
"Yes, my lord." He nodded. Quick, jerky movements of his head.
Seven days.
Seven whole days for Theodore to run. To hide. To plot more against me.
"That idiot wants to escape my wrath," I cried out. I changed my gaze toward Brielle still on the floor. Still crying. Still shaking.
"P...please my lord, pardon me. I promise that I will never..."
"Silence!" The guard ordered. His hand moved to the sword at his waist.
I quickly cut in. My voice rang out clear and strong. Final. "By the power bestowed on me as Alpha King, I hereby banish you from this pack!"
"Noo..." she cried out. The sound was pure agony. Pure despair.
She reached toward me with shaking hands. Begging. Pleading without words.
"You have less than twelve hours to pack your stuff and never return to this pack again!" The words felt heavy on my tongue. Heavy but necessary. "Never. If you are found within our borders after that time, you will be executed."
A thick, long, drawn sigh came from the crowd. Some people nodded in agreement. Others looked uncomfortable. A few looked away.
"Take her out of here!" I commanded.
Two guards moved forward immediately. Their hands grabbed Brielle's arms. They pulled her to her feet. She fought against them weakly. Crying. Begging. But they dragged her toward the door anyway.
The statement had hardly left my lips when Lyra stepped out of the crowd.
I hadn't even seen her arrive. Hadn't noticed her slip into the room. But there she was, moving through the people like water flowing around stones.
Her face was calm. Peaceful
even. But her eyes were serious.
"My lord," she said quietly. Her voice somehow carried through the entire room despite being soft. "I wish you could temper justice with mercy.”