I nervously approach Caleb’s chambers. The guards are there, same as ever, eyeing me warily as I approach.
“I need to see the King,” I say.
“So does everyone,” one of the guards says. “What makes you special?”
“That’s Harper, the King’s favored,” the other guard tells the first.
The first guard sighs. “Even if you are special, we have direct orders not to allow anyone into these chambers.”
“Tristan has entered,” I say.
“Tristan is the King’s Beta…” Under his breath, the first guard adds, “And I massive prick.”
It seems, to get where I need to be, I must also be a massive prick.
“The King needs me,” I say.
The first guard lifts a brow. “He’d be pissed to hear you say that.”
“Maybe he needs to be pissed,” I say. “Maybe he needs to feel anything. I think all of us can agree that
