Kaelen's POV
The ride to the border village was silent.
As we approached the outskirts, the smell hit us, like wet wood and copper.
"Dismount," Fenrir commanded.
I slid off my horse, my legs stiff. I kept my hand on the hilt of the small dagger I'd tucked into my belt.
Fenrir stepped up beside me, his hand hovering near my shoulder.
"Stay behind the line," Fenrir said.
"I'm not a spectator," I replied.
"You're an Omega in a war zone. Do what I say."
"I'll do what I please."
We walked toward a group of survivors huddled near a stone well. A woman in tattered gray rags stumbled forward, a bundle of blankets cradled in her arms. She was wailing, a high pitched thin sound that irritated me.
"Help me!" she cried, looking at me. "My baby... he's cold. Please, noble prince, help him."
I stepped forward. Fenrir reached for my arm to pull me back, but I was already moving.
"Let me see," I said.
As I reached for the bundle, the woman's eyes shifted. She dropped the blankets, there was no baby.
There was only a silver-laced shortsword.
"Die, Blue Moon trash!" she hissed.
She lunged. I twisted my torso, the blade slicing through the air where my ribs had been a second before. I wasn't fast enough to escape completely. The silver edge caught my upper arm, tearing through the leather and silk, touching muscle.
"Linus!" Fenrir shouted.
I didn't wait for him. I slammed my palm into the assassin's chin, snapping her head back.
As she stumbled, I drew my dagger and drove it straight into the gap between her neck and shoulder. I twisted the blade, feeling the spray of blood hit my face.
She collapsed, gurgling.
Fenrir was on her a second later, his massive boot crushing her chest as he took her head off with one swing of his sword. He turned to me, his face red with a rage I hadn't seen before.
"You're hit," he said, his voice low.
"It's a scratch," I said, clutching my arm. Blood was already soaking my sleeve, dripping onto the snow.
"It's silver-laced," Fenrir growled. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "Jaxon! Get the medic! Now!"
"I killed her, Fenrir. Focus on that," I said, trying to pull away.
"You almost died," he snapped. He looked at the corpse, then back at me. His nostrils flared. The scent of my blood was hitting his Alpha senses, and I could see the struggle in his eyes. He was losing his grip on his restraint.
"How did she know?" I asked, looking around the village.
"What?"
"How did she know I was the one to target?" I pointed at the dead woman.
"She didn't go for you or the generals. She waited for me to step out. Someone told her exactly who I was and where I'd be standing."
Fenrir didn't answer. He ripped the heavy, fur-lined cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around me. He pulled the ties so tight I could barely breathe.
"Wear it," he demanded.
"It's too heavy."
"I said wear it. I want every man in this village to know whose mark is on you. If anyone else touches you, I'll slaughter every living thing within ten miles."
"You're overreacting. It's a tactic, Fenrir. They're trying to rattle you."
"It's working," he hissed. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "If you bleed again, I won't be responsible for what I do to this kingdom."
"Then find the leak," I said. "Because the person who sent her is standing right behind you in that camp."
He signaled for the guards to move me to a nearby hut. "Stay there. Jaxon, guard the door."
"I don't need a babysitter," I said.
"You'll take the guard, or I'll chain you to the bed," Fenrir replied.
I went into the hut. The medic patched the wound, murmuring about how lucky I was the silver didn't hit an artery.
I sat in the dark for an hour, wrapped in Fenrir's heavy cloak.
The medicine made the pain dull, but it didn't stop my mind. I stood up and moved to the back window. It was a small opening, barely enough for a child, but it gave me a view of the supply wagons.
I saw two figures meeting in the shadows of a wagon.
One was General Jaxon. The other was a smaller man in a hooded cloak.
When the smaller man turned, the moonlight hit his face.
Silas.
"The assassin failed," Jaxon hissed.
"How?" Silas asked. "She was the best we had."
"The Prince killed her himself. He's not the boy you described, Silas. He's a demon."
"He's an Omega," Silas spat. "He's a fluke. The Queen Mother expects results. If the rebels don't kill him at the pass, you have to do it. Fenrir is becoming obsessed."
"I saw," Jaxon said. "The men are talking. They don't like an Omega leading the strategy."
"Then use that," Silas said. "Wait for the chaos of the ambush. When the first arrows fly, make sure one finds its way into Linus's heart. And if Fenrir gets in the way... well, accidents happen in war."
"I want the payment upfront," Jaxon said.
"You'll get your gold when the brat is a corpse. Now go back before the Emperor misses you."
They parted ways. I stayed at the window, my breath hitching in my chest.
I looked at the blood-stained bandage on my arm. My own General and 'friend.'
They weren't just trying to kill me; they were planning to take Fenrir down too.
The door to the hut opened. Fenrir walked in, his armor clanking. He looked at me by the window.
"Why are you out of bed?" he asked.
"The air was stale," I said, pulling his cloak tighter around me.
"Are you cold?"
"No."
He walked over to me, looking down at my bandaged arm. "The medic said you'll be fine. But you're staying in the center of the formation tomorrow."
"I'm riding at the front, Fenrir. Like we planned."
"No. Not after tonight."
"If I hide in the back, the traitor knows I'm afraid," I said, looking up at him. "And I want them to see me. I want them to wonder why I'm still breathing."
Fenrir gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You know something."
"I know I'm not the only one in danger," I said. "Do you trust Jaxon?"
Fenrir's eyes narrowed. "He's fought with me for a decade."
"A decade is a long time to wait for a better offer," I said.
Fenrir let go of my face, his expression hardening. "If you're accusing my General of treason, you better have more than a hunch."
"I have a dead assassin and a wound in my arm," I said. "And I have the fact that Silas is currently sitting in your camp."
Fenrir turned toward the door, his hand on his sword. "I'll kill him now."
"No," I said, grabbing his arm. "If you kill him now, the Queen Mother sends someone else. Someone we won't see coming. We wait for the pass. We let them think their plan is working."
Fenrir looked at my hand on his arm, then back at my face. "You're a cold-blooded bastard, aren't you?"
"I'm a King," I said. "And a King doesn't just kill his enemies. He waits for them to dig their own graves."
Fenrir let out a laugh.
"Tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow," I agreed.
"If you die, Linus, I'm going to be very disappointed."
"Then don't let me die."