Phaeron’s scream of rage must have echoed throughout the entire mountain range. It was almost primal in its fury, rising in crescendo and becoming multiple voices all at once.

It was the worst sound Lukas had ever heard.

He gritted his teeth as he knelt in front of the ruler. It took every ounce of his self-control to remain where he was and not flee the throne room. When Phaeron was in this kind of mood, the alpha warlock would almost rather take his chances trying to run than stay.

Almost.

As it was, fear kept him where he was, staring at the red marble floor. Sweat dripped from his brow to his chin, even though there was an icy chill in the room, enough to make his breath come out in white puffs.

The candles flickered around him, and the shrieking only intensified. After wetting himself once in front of the vampire king, Lukas had sworn to himself that he wasn’t going to let his bowels go ever again in Phaeron’s presence. He nearly did.

His only consolation was that, this time, he wasn’t the reason why Phaeron was so angry.

Perhaps he would live through this temper tantrum.

“Your Majesty,” he said through dry lips. “This is just a setback. Only two omega warlocks. Surely there are more.”

The screaming stopped, and an eerie silence filled the room, as terrible as the noise.

“More omega warlocks?” Phaeron asked. Lukas felt his hot breath on his skin, closer than he’d ever been before. “Tell me, Warlock, where are these magical warlocks? I’ve been searching for over  four years. More, if you count the investment of time I had Cormac raise and groom that omega warlock known as Martin. And in all that time, I’ve only been able to find two. Two in this whole gods-forsaken country.”

“There are more,” Lukas whispered.

Phaeron hissed in anger. “Then where are they?”

“Maybe they’re on the southern continent? Maybe they’re much better at hiding than you’ve given them credit for?” He sat back on his heels and threw up his hands. If was going to die, he would at least speak his mind. “Why not try another tact? These omega warlcoks can’t be worth the trouble, I don’t care what they say.”

A low snarl made him jump. “You would ask that, wouldn’t you?”

Lukas gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“You would be so small-minded, you wouldn’t be able to see the reason.” The oppressive presence of Phaeron right next to his ear lessened and Lukas breathed a sigh of relief. “It doesn’t send up any sort of red flag to you that these omega warlocks are so rare for a reason?”

Lukas’s mind whirled. “You have an army of vampires. And some of the most loyal werewolves to you...” He licked his lips. “Surely... Surely you have the resources to achieve your ends.”

To his utter surprise, that seemed to give the vampire king pause. He chanced a glance up at the king, who was stroking his chin in thought.

“Resources, huh?” the vampire murmured softly. “Now, resources I do have.”

He strode away from Lukas, and the warlock let out another sigh of relief, staggering to his side. “Yes. You are all-powerful and wise,” Lukas groveled. “You do have the means to do whatever you want.”

“Do you think, my dear warlock,” Phaeron mused, “that the omega warlocks may be trying to escape Pristat?” He frowned. “I’ve been searching for them on land with my vampires and wolves. Maybe I should try a new tactic.”

“What are you considering, Your Grace?” Lukas ventured.

“I’m thinking I need to squeeze Pristat from the sea to the center.” The vampire king clenched his fist, as if thinking about doing the same to the country. “Vampires and werewolves on land. And I know just who I can use to choke the world from the sea.”

“Who?” Lukas blurted before he could stop himself.

Phaeron gave him a sinister smile. “Mermen,” he said. “If you thought vampires and werewolves were vicious, then you haven’t met mermen yet.”

Lukas shivered, imagining a world where hordes of mermen would capsize boats, stop their fishing industry, and cut off Pristat from the rest of the world. The people of Pristat would have no choice but to surrender all omega warlocks to Phaeron.

And they would have no hope for salvation.

“I will have my omega warlock,” Phaeron sneered. “I will have my hybrid army. And these fools who could have been a part of my future will rue the day they defied me.”