Kaelen's POV.
The Great Hall of the Iron Fang Palace was filled with every noble of the inner circle, lined up in rows.
The doors swung open and I walked in first.
As I marched down the center aisle, the whispering stopped.
Fenrir sat on the high throne, sword leaning against the armrest. He gestured to the floor in front of me.
"Kneel," Fenrir's voice echoed off the high vaulted ceiling.
The nobles hesitated. They looked at each other, confused. They were Alphas and Betas of high standing.
"I didn't say kneel to me," Fenrir said, his eyes turning a dangerous, molten gold. "I said kneel to your War Consort."
A ripple of shock went through the room.
Duke Vane, the fat noble I had shamed before, took a step forward. "Your Majesty, surely this is a jest. He is a gift. A peace offering. We do not bow to—"
Fenrir was off the throne in an instant. He didn't draw his sword, but he backhanded Vane with enough force to send the man spinning into a marble pillar. Vane hit the floor with a loud thud and didn't move.
"Does anyone else have an opinion on my decrees?" Fenrir asked.
One by one, they went down. Even Queen Mother Hecate, sitting in her elevated chair to the side, slowly lowered herself.
I stood in the center of the hall, looking down at the backs of their heads.
"Stand up," I said.
The nobles looked up, blinking.
Fenrir climbed back onto his throne and pulled a second chair, a smaller, iron-wrought seat directly to his right.
"From this day forward," Fenrir announced, "Prince Linus is named War Consort and Strategic Advisor to the Iron Fang Empire. He holds the power of the seal. His word on the battlefield is my word. His command in this court is my command. If you disobey him, you are committing treason against the throne."
"Your Majesty," Hecate said, "The boy has seen one skirmish. Is it wise to hand the keys to our military to a foreigner?"
"He didn't just see a skirmish, Mother," Fenrir said. "He slaughtered six assassins and three Shadow Wolves in a single night. Alone. Can any of your 'wise' advisors claim the same?"
Hecate's eyes snapped to mine. I gave her a small, mocking smile.
"I've also reorganized the supply lines," I added, looking at the court. "The grain hoarding in the south ends today. Any noble found with more than a month's worth of surplus in their private vaults will be hung from their own battlements. We are at war, and the army eats before the aristocracy."
"You can't do that!" a countess cried out. "That's private property!"
"It's state property now," I said. "If you don't like it, feel free to take it up with the Emperor. But I'd suggest you check if your neck is stronger than Duke Vane's jaw first."
Fenrir reached out and grabbed my hand.
He pulled my arm up, exposing my inner wrist to the entire court. Before I could pull away, he leaned down and pressed his teeth into the soft skin just above my pulse point.
The scent of his Alpha marking hit the air. He was marking me in front of the world.
The court gasped. An official marking was usually a private, sacred act between mates. Doing it in the Great Hall was a claim of absolute ownership.
Fenrir let go, his eyes burning. "He is mine. Anyone who thinks otherwise should start praying."
I leaned in, my voice a low whisper that only he could hear. "You just made me a target for every assassin in the Northern Reach, you idiot."
"Then I'll just have to kill them all, won't I?" Fenrir replied, his thumb brushing over the bloody mark on my wrist.
"You're enjoying this," I said.
"I'm enjoying the look on Hecate's face," he muttered.
I looked back at the court. The fear was palpable now. They weren't just afraid of Fenrir; they were afraid of what I represented.
Suddenly, a man in the third row, Lord Aris, let out a strangled gasp. He clutched his throat, his eyes bulging as he slumped forward. He fell out of his chair, his body twitching violently on the marble floor.
"Aris!" a noble nearby shouted.
Fenrir stood up, his hand on his sword. "Guards! Seal the doors!"
The palace guards slammed the Great Hall shut. I ran to Aris's side, kneeling in the dirt. His skin was turning a sickly shade of blue, and black foam was bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
"Poison," I said, checking his pupils. "Manticore bile. It's fast."
Aris reached out, grabbing the collar of my tunic with a trembling hand. He pulled me down, his breath smelling of rot.
"Hecate..." he wheezed. "The fleet... the fleet is already..."
Before he could finish his sentence, his head hit the stone with a loud thud.
He was dead.
I stood up and looked up at the Queen Mother. She was still sitting in her chair, her face looking unconcerned.
"Lord Aris was your treasurer, was he not, Mother?" Fenrir asked, his voice vibrating with rage.
"He was a weak man, Fenrir," Hecate said, standing up. "Perhaps his heart simply gave out under the stress of your... new appointments."
"He was poisoned," I said, stepping toward her. "And he died with your name on his lips."
"Many people die with my name on their lips," she replied. She looked at the court, her voice rising. "The Emperor has chosen a rabbit to lead his wolves. He has marked a foreigner as his equal. If the Iron Fang falls, do not blame the Queen Mother. Blame the man who lost his mind for a pretty face."
She turned and walked toward the side exit.
"Stop her!" Fenrir roared.
The guards moved, but a cloud of smoke erupted from the floor near the dais. By the time it cleared, Hecate was gone.
"She's gone to the coast," I said, looking at the dead man. "Aris was trying to tell us about the fleet. She didn't just flee; she's taking the navy with her."
Fenrir slammed his fist into the arm of his throne, cracking the wood. "Jaxon was only half the problem. She's going to join the Northern rebels. She'll hand them our ships."
"Then we go to the coast," I said.
"The court is in chaos," he said.
"Let them be in chaos," I replied. "We have a war to finish. If she reaches the fleet, we lose the north."
Fenrir turned to the remaining generals. "Prepare the horses. We ride for the port of Solas at dawn. And someone clean up this mess."
He walked over to me, grabbing my shoulder. "You're sure you're ready for a sea campaign? Omegas usually get sick on the waves."
I looked at the blood on my wrist.
"Fenrir," I said, "I've conquered more oceans than you've seen maps of. Just make sure your men don't get in my way."
Fenrir laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I think the world is about to find out exactly what kind of 'rabbit' I brought home."
"Let them watch," I said. "I'm tired of being polite anyway."