An ill, sick feeling twisted in Azra’s stomach as he clutched his chest; his heart was pounding in his ears, his head reeling as images flashed in his memory. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts and shove them back into the dark recesses of his mind.

The fact that anyone knew what had happened in his realm- that Varyx knew- made Azra’s skin crawl. Though Varyx was unkind and filled with spite and malice, the most painful words came from Galros, filling him with agony. “Yes, Your Highness, I’m aware of what happened in Solvale,” Galros answered, his calm voice biting with an edge to his tone.

Humiliation flooded Azra’s being as he sucked in a sharp breath; his hair turned a deep blue. Ashamed, he wondered how many people knew- how many eyes would stare and see through him? Even this knight bound by order to protect him, this stranger, knew Azra’s darkest moments. In that moment, his past seemed inescapable, like it would haunt him and stalk him even in this new and vastly different realm.

Though Azra had been bitterly enlightened on the fact that Varyx’s only interest in him was for the man’s own power and position, the next words to leave the alpha’s lips surprised him. “You're not to let harm come to Prince Lyroth. At all costs. I don’t care what measures you have to take, his security takes precedence.” For the first time, there was no anger in his words or irritated annoyance- only authority and conviction.

“I understand,” the fae said with certainty, a solemn promise in his words.

Azra swiped at his eyes, sniffing sharply as he straightened his back and composed himself enough to look over at where Varyx and Galros were locked in private conversation. While it seemed like Varyx was thoroughly distracted, perhaps even forgetting Azra’s immediate presence, the fae’s dark red eyes watched Azra carefully. Galros’ gaze bore into the omega prince- an eyebrow raised as his eyes narrowed with concern.

Azra blushed, his heart thudding and his breaths still rapid as he physically tried to slow them and calm himself. Whatever Varyx and the fae thought of him, Azra couldn’t change who he was. He couldn’t change anything about the past…not even the events that led him there to begin with.

Just as it looked like Galros may say something further, a familiar servant appeared through a doorway down the hall, marching swiftly for Varyx. The prince’s valet cleared his throat, saying loudly as if in announcement, “I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness.”

Varyx blinked at the servant, gloved hands in fists. He sounded almost resigned as he asked, “What is it, Mero?”

Mero seemed nervous as he peered up, timidly at Galros, the fae straightening to overlook the meek human. Even from a distance, Azra could see the servant cautiously turn his attention back to Varyx as he said, “It’s the king, Your Royal Highness. He’s been looking for you.”

“Oh?” For the first time, Varyx seemed quiet, but his scent strengthened. The smell of charred wood and smoke carried across the room so strongly that Azra covered his nose with his open palm, his hair morphing into gold as he suddenly felt dizzy. Steadying himself against the wall with his other hand, Azra watched as Varyx asked with a baleful tone, “What does my father want with me this time?”