CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Rory's POV

I felt like I was on a scavenger hunt, popping my head into different meal halls looking for familiar light-brown hair bobbing around, when my phone started ringing.

"Rory speaking."

"Um, Mr. Bennet, I'm sorry to interrupt on your personal cell, but your father isn't answering his."

I stopped, leaning my back against a nearby wall. "That's all right, Heidi. What can I do for you?" She sounded nervous and I couldn't place why.

"Well, sir, um, there is a visitor here. A Mr. William Alexander. He insists that he speak to you immediately."

All of the breath rushed from my lungs. Fuck. Why would he want to see me? I choked back the knot in my throat. "Very well. I will be there in just a moment. Please, offer him our finest."

With that, I hung up. I couldn't keep the man waiting. I took the risk, taking the emergency stairwell at top speed to the executive office. I should've worn a tie, but it was too late. I straightened my shoulders the best I could before walking through the doors to my father's office.

Sitting in my father's chair with his feet on the desk was our one and only Sire King. His icy blue gaze sent chills down my spine, and I had to fight the urge to cower.

"Mr. Alexander, to what do we owe your visit today?" I said casually, walking to pour myself some aged whiskey from the bar. Yes, it was only ten in the morning, but I needed it.

The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Cigar?" I asked him, pulling the box of imported Cubans from the drawer beneath the beverage cart, along with the cutter and lighter.

"Please." Even with only one word I wanted to vomit. The man radiated levels of intimidation unlike any I had ever seen before. He swirled what appeared to be brandy in a crystal glass, taking a slow sip while maintaining eye contact with me.

I approached him, handing him a cut cigar which he immediately bit down on and flicking open the Zippo to light the end for him. A few short puffs and he was set. I followed suit with my own, loving the way the smoke burned my throat and ignited my senses, the rich taste making my mouth water.

He removed his pristine custom-made loafers from the desk and loosened his crimson red tie. The man was at least fifty, but didn't look a day over thirty. A benefit of living a life of luxury, no doubt. I waited patiently for him to answer my question, crossing my leg over my knee to appear comfortable, even though I knew he could hear my heart racing.

Finally, he spoke, spewing thick smoke from his mouth as he formed his words. "I heard you found your royal, boy."

Shit. I gave him a halfhearted smile. "I did. She is a wonderful woman. I couldn't be happier."

He cocked a single brow, looking into my soul with those cold eyes. "She's also part mutt. Jasper's concubine's daughter, I believe."

My heart stopped. Fury raced through me, but I knew better than to provoke the Sire. We weren't ready to take on both factions just yet. Hell, we weren't ready to take on the wolves. I needed to appear cordial.

"I trust The Sanguine One, Sire." I said, staying in safe territory.

He smirked, an evil and sadistic smirk that sent chills down my spine. "Yes, well. Just remember what happened to Jasper. I would hate for you to meet the same fate."

In a flash, he was gone. I sat staring at the empty seat before me, the traces of smoke from his cigar the only remnant of proof that he was there in the first place. His threat was subtle, but there, and I couldn't help but feel relieved that he hadn't made any aggressive moves yet. As expected, he was biding his time, watching from the sidelines as we challenged the wolves. It was smart. If we defeated them, we would accomplish what he had been trying to do for decades, and what our ancestors had been trying to do for centuries.

The question was, how much did he know? Did he know about Bastion? Or my seal? Did he know about the prophecy? The man was an unknown variable, a closed book that no one dared read. I had to move quick before he caught on to too much. It went without saying that we would have traitors in the ARIA; that much was certain. The sooner we could move to Paradise, the safer we would be for everyone.

I took another puff of my cigar, melting back into the chair when the intercom rang. I leaned forward. "Yes, Heidi?"

"A Dylan is here to see you, sir."

Dylan? Did he know I was looking for him? "Send him in."

The door flew open behind me. "Dude, what the hell is happening to me?" He shouted as soon as he entered, making me jump. I turned to see him shirtless, his hair mussed as he frantically pointed to a royal seal on his chest.

Thank the gods. I jumped to my feet, rushing to embrace him, but scrunching my nose when I smelled perfume and booze on his bare shoulder. He pushed me an arm's length away, his brow furrowed.

"For real, man. I was in the middle of boning some girl and my chest started fucking glowing! Made the chick pass out! Then I heard a voice in my head telling me to find 'King Rory'. I might've been slipped acid last night, man."

I couldn't contain my laughter. I had never seen Dylan so freaked out by something, and it was just like him to panic when literally every other court staff bowed to me without question. I started unbuttoning my shirt and he jumped back.

"Woah, man. What are you doing there?" He cringed and I shook my head. Without a word, I revealed my seal.

"King." He read, slowly, deliberately.

"King." I confirmed.

"Fuck." He groaned, running his hand through his near shoulder-length hair. "Should I bow or something?" He asked, meeting my eyes with his uncertain green ones.

I snorted. "Nah, man. What's your court position?" I asked rhetorically, since I was reading it myself.

He shrugged. "I can't see it from here."

"It says, 'Messenger'."

"Is that just a fancy mailman?"

"Not sure. I imagine we send you to deliver bad news when we don't want to get killed."

He gave me an unamused glare before crossing to get himself a drink. "I told you, didn't I? That girl was special. Somehow I knew I would get caught up in some crazy shit." He downed the vodka he had poured in his glass.

"From sex to vodka for breakfast. What were the gods thinking?" I mused.

He winked at me, licking the booze from his mouth. "They were thinking I'm the best damn man for the job, babe."

"King, you asshole." I hid my smirk behind my glass.

"King Babe. A little weird, but I dig it." He teased, flipping me the bird.

I scowled. At least he wasn't our Advisor. He would lead us to the depths of hell with a bottle of Jack.

"Get your ass dressed. We have to meet the others."