"Even Kings must kneel before their bonded for power without balance is only madness given form."
The residual anxiety in Alaric's office was suffocating, but the raw, terrifying information Black had just forced through the Fusion Master Elion, Omega-neutralizing compound, rotten Ironwood lent my steps an icy, focused purpose. I was furious, not because Alaric was keeping secrets, but because his protective instinct was prioritizing my ignorance over my ability to act as the effective Anchor he desperately needed. I walked the short distance to his inner study. The door was closed, guarded by two new, unsmiling Betas who smelled strongly of Marcus's private security rotation, and I did not slow down.
"Tell the King his mate is here," I commanded, my voice flat. My scent usually, the grounding stability of the Anchor was sharp with challenge.
The guards exchanged nervous glances. "Your Majesty, the King gave strict orders. "
