If someone had told him he made the wrong decision, he would have killed them on the spot. If someone had scolded him, he would have glared at them and stated otherwise. If anyone dared to speak ill of his omega, he would have made sure to set an example so no one else would ever do so again.
However, what was Rihaan supposed to do when no one spoke to him upon his return to Dankshin?
It was as if an unspoken rule had spread across the kingdom. The only times anyone addressed him were when it concerned his taste in food or his choice of clothing. He was no longer summoned to court meetings—not even once.
"Are they planning something new?" Rihaan muttered, exhaling sharply.
"What did you say?" the man seated on his lap asked, pressing a gentle peck against the alpha's cheek.
Rihaan smiled, running his hand through Arav's hair—smooth, silky, and dark like the winter solstice. Yet the weather outside was warm. Unlike Soren's land. Cold. Chilling.
Just like its people.
