Chapter 71

Third Person POV

The crowd stared back at him, curiosity painted on their faces.

“Hello everyone. I’ve been known for years now as Asher Blake, but all of that was a lie.”

Someone somewhere in the crowd called out, “Why do we care about that?”

Asher couldn’t help but chuckle. “Right, well, I’m getting to that.” He purposefully waited another beat, raising the crowds curiosity even higher.

“Well spit it out!” A lady in the back hollered, the rest of the crowd mumbling in agreement.

“Better be damn good to interrupt this memorial!” Another man said from somewhere to Asher’s left.

“Right, the memorial for Alaric Valmor and his father, yes? Well, you’ll be pleased to know that Alaric is alive.”

Gasps and whispers moved through the crowd in a wave, everyone starting to look around to find Alaric somewhere. Only a few seemed to catch on, their eyes glued to Asher.

“I’ve changed a lot since I was thirteen,” Asher said loudly, making sure his voice reached all the way to the back of the crowd. “But I’m back, here to claim my place in a world I was taken from.”

Asher heard the intake of breath from his uncle behind him, the moment of recognition settling on his old, traitorous shoulders. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, else he’d out himself and all his lies in the process.

“I’m sure you’re wondering where I’ve been all this time.” Asher didn’t dare look back at his uncle, his eyes burning a seething hole in his head.

The crowd stared at him in awe — most of them, at least. The disappearance of Alaric, his presumed death, along with the loss of his father, had always had a huge impact on the citizens of the capital city.

“On that fateful day ten years ago, I was kidnapped by rogues.” This was all part of his plan — not to out his uncle just yet. That never would have worked in his favor, anyway.

“For years, I stayed with them, tortured and used for their advancement. Used so much that I suffered amnesia for years, forgetting who I was, what my purpose was.” He was sounding more and more like the Prince he’d always been.

Whispers surged through the crowd again, but he wasn’t looking for pity. This was all a lie anyway.

Then again, having people on his side would only work later on down the road, wouldn’t it?

“Perhaps it was a way of protecting myself, accepting what my new life was,” Asher said softly, emphasizing the wistfulness in his tone.

“And you just now remembered?” A woman called out, the crowd answering with a few gruff ‘yeahs’.

“Everything with all the rogues lately, the fights in Nightwind, it brought it back.” Truthfully, his excuse sounded ridiculous — but he was selling it well enough to convince them.

Asher glanced back to his uncle, giving him a small nod. The waving of a white flag, if only temporarily.

“It’s good to see you,” his uncle said, making his voice loud enough to be heard by all. It was a convincing enough delivery.

It wasn’t actually good to see him, Asher knew that for sure. But his uncle was the most exceptional liar, capable of making anyone — everyone — believe anything he said.

“I’m not here to take my rightful place on the throne back.” Yet. “But I wanted to return home to the life I was taken from.” Pushed out of.

“Long live Prince Alaric!” the crowd started chanting, and a chill of pride moved through Asher.

“Come, join me on stage!” Asher’s uncle beckoned him up, falling straight into the role of the happy King, when he was everything but that.

Asher knew that deep down, his uncle was in a panic. The throne was now officially threatened, and Asher had him in a chokehold — because now, if something happened to him, people would be suspicious.

His uncle wouldn’t get away with those lies again.

Asher stepped up next to the King, holding his head high. “I served years in Nightwind, unaware for so long that I belonged here, in the palace, with all of you.”

A pang of sadness shot through Asher, his heart still yearning for those carefree days with Sienna, the times where he was just Asher, the gamma, her fated husband.

It could never be like that again now. Soon she’d find out, and he needed no reminding of how much she hated Alaric.

She is your mate, his wolf huffed, always commenting on the subject.

Not now, Asher growled, keeping his face straight as he looked out to the crowd.

“Long live Prince Alaric!” They all chanted again, and Asher felt his uncle stiffen at his side as he raised his old crown, holding it to the sky.

Asher’s gaze skimmed across the crowd, double taking when he noticed Mia hovering at the back, shock written across her beautiful features.

She’s a traitor, he thought to himself, his heart clenching in his chest. He’d yet to face her about it officially, and he didn’t think here, in the public, was the right time.

“We’ll hold a celebration for this as soon as I can arrange it,” the King announced, the crowd cheering, their clapping echoing around the square. Only Asher could sense the tension that lay just beneath the surface of his uncle’s words.

His uncle wanted out of there, away from the public eye. As he told the crowd to watch for his celebration announcement soon, he didn’t once look at Asher.

With a big wave and a smile, the King turned and was escorted off the stage without another look at Asher. People might have caught on to it — the fact that there were no hugs exchanged, no signs of real joy at the return of his long lost nephew.

Asher glanced back out to the crowd, watching them disperse, everyone glancing back over their shoulders at him, smiles spread wide across their faces.

“Alaric,” Mia’s voice came from next to him, making him jump. She’d made it over there fast. “It’s really you?”

He turned to look at her, his eyes cold. “It is.”

“How could you not tell me?” She looked hurt, and all that did was make him angrier.

How could you not tell me you were a traitor?! he yelled to himself, furious and just as hurt by her.

“It’s not like you recognized me,” Asher scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “You’d think your childhood best friend would know.”

“I wasn’t just a best friend,” she said softly, another side of her now revealed. Her softer, sweeter side, the one he’d known when he was young.

“I can’t do this right now, Mia.” Asher shook his head, his words catching in his throat. “I’m seconds in to returning to the public eye.”

“You’d have prioritized me before,” she murmured, her sad eyes turning down.

“This isn’t before anymore,” Asher responded, the tiniest hint of melancholy in his words. “It’s now.”

He held her gaze for a moment, thinking about all the horrible things she’d done. For what, power? Recognition?

When she doesn’t answer, he takes the opportunity to turn on his heel and head for the palace, hoping she didn’t follow.

She didn’t.