VEGAS

XXVII: prayers for the wicked

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not.

- jupiter (Sleeping at Last)

TW:

Graphic violence, sexual assault, blood, grief, losing a child

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"You are carrying the enemy's child."

It wasn't a question, not even an accusation. Pete remained quiet as he curled on the old bed. Its wooden frame creaked as he moved. Pete was transferred into a small cabin, a mile away from the palace. His wary eyes followed Pol; his friend when he was a soldier himself in Fontos. The tall man placed his food by the wooden table across the bed.

"Thank you." Pete mumbled.

"I'm not doing this for you."

"I know."

Pete was acutely aware of the anger and resentment harbored by Pol, along with his former fellow soldiers from Fontos. They believed that Pete had betrayed them, and he couldn't entirely blame them. After all, Pete had been away for quite some time, only to return and defend Vegas and now bear the heir of the King of Kali.

"Why do you have to –" Pol's body suddenly tensed as he drew in a sharp breath, forcibly cutting off his own sentence as he pivoted to face the Omega on the bed, who was now curled in a fetal position, wracked by intense pain.

"How could you betray your own?" The soldier accused. "How could you help the enemy? Look at what happened to Fontos. Look at what happened to our King."

"I didn't betray Fontos, believe me." Pete tried to answer. There was so much pain curling at the pit of his belly. His whole body is demanding for his Alpha's pheromones.

"How could I? When everything that's happening was because of that ruthless king." Pol's eyes flared with anger, his lips formed a thin line, his jaw clenched as he glared at Pete. "He ruined everything, Pete. And he used you."

The door closed behind Pol as the soldier left the cabin, leaving Pete to wallow in silence. The absence of his friend's presence weighed heavily upon him, adding to the already overwhelming sense of isolation and despair that had settled over the Omega.

In a cruel twist of fate, that was the last time Pol spoke to him.

Days slipped by in a haze of excruciating torment as Pete's body was wracked with tremendous pain. Despite the intense suffering, Pol continued to dutifully fulfill his duties, guarding Pete's cabin and providing food. He stood vigil while servants came to clean and dress the Omega, their touch rough and clinical as they attended to their task.

All Pete could do was to think. To sit with his thoughts and let it consume his waking days and torment his restless night. He could not believe war was happening between the two kingdoms after the decade of relative peace that had passed between them.

Regardless of Pete's choices in Kali, he couldn't imagine his brothers supporting their uncle claiming the throne. Although, the Empire was highly hierarchical. Khan has the right to hold the crown, he was still the prince, a sibling of the previous King Korn which made his status higher than Tankhun's.

There was still so much more to say and ask, to untangle the mess of a situation he was in. Pete wondered if there was a rational reason for Khan's behavior, but no matter how hard Pete tried to think and theorize, he came up empty.

Pete let out a long sigh before cautiously pulling himself up, causing the bed to creak as he peered out of the boarded window, revealing the dark path beyond. In the night's deepened darkness, Pete found himself struggling to see clearly, his breath echoing loudly in his ears. Tall trees swayed in the wind as rain continued to fall, he strained his eyes to adjust to the limited visibility.