Guard the Crown: The Royal Alphas

by H Q Kingsley

  Silence enveloped the crowd for a long moment before someone started to clap, and then another person and another, until the street was lined with people clapping for Zyke, myself included. I was in absolute awe of him.

  Zyke took a deep breath and then let it out, a smile pulling at his lips as he soaked in his moment.

  He moved back to my side as the crowd began to disperse, various people coming to shake Zyke’s hand or give him thanks for fighting alongside them, or even to apologize for attacking him without knowing him. It was all of the things Zyke ever wanted to hear from the people. I could feel the pride in him, beaming like an undeniable ray of sunlight.

  "I know I've said this before," I said, leading him back into the apartment."But you really would make a good leader.”

  Zyke smiled and snorted softly. "No, I wouldn’t.”

  I stopped and gently gripped his chin to make sure I had his eyes. “Yes, you would.” I let him go knowing I had his attention. “You have a way with the people. You make them listen without threats. You want to see them succeed without ever knowing them. It’s the makings of a good and fair king."

  Zyke gave me a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

  I kept watching him as we headed into our apartment, the thought perpetually forcing its way to the front of my mind. Zyke would make a good and fair king. I’d thought the same of Chase, and I’d been right. He’d changed Belaria for the better in the last year-and-a-half, and I’d helped to put him on the throne. Why couldn’t I do the same for Zyke?

  I watched Zyke as he moved around in the kitchen looking for something for breakfast.

  “Peanut?” I asked, my voice sounding as firm and serious as I felt, but Zyke didn’t seem to notice.

  “Hmm?” Zyke hummed as he climbed onto the counter to reach the top shelf in the cupboard.

  I moved to him, wrapping my arms around his waist to get him down and place him on his feet.

  “Hey,” he shouted in protest. “I was getting…”

  He trailed off as he looked at me. I probably had a pretty grave expression on my face, but it felt warranted for the question I was about to ask.

  "Zyke,” I said, and he straightened. It wasn’t often I called him that anymore, only when things were serious. “Do you want to be king?" I asked him.

  He blinked at me. "Of course," he replied. "I'd like to change things, but it doesn't work like that. My father is king, and even if he wasn't, I'm sixth in line for the throne."

  I met his eyes. "I've killed six people before," I said, keeping my voice low. “And I could do it again.”

  Zyke's eyes went wide, and he stared at me, his mouth parted.

  I kept my gaze on him, staring right back making sure that he knew just how serious I was.

  "I-I…” Zyke closed his mouth, his eyes still wide, and I could feel him start to panic.

  I reached out and brought him into me. “You don’t have to answer right now. Or ever,” I said, stroking his head. “But you would be better for this kingdom than anyone else in your family.” I lifted his chin to look at me. “All you ever have to do is ask, and I’ll get you on that throne.”

  18

  Zyke

  I tossed and turned in Omar’s hold. He was out cold, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened.

  All those people gathered there screaming. Angry because they thought I was just another royal asshole coming to take something from them.

  My family had discarded them...Worse than that, they toyed with them, destroyed their community because they weren’t real to them. They were pawns, subjects that they had to keep low to lift their egos.

  I understood the people's anger. I was angry, too.

  But I didn't have any power. I was just the sixth son. The weak one. The black sheep….Until Omar.

  He was offering me the crown, and for some reason, I knew if I said yes, he could make it happen. I’d seen that dark streak in him before. I knew exactly what he was capable of.

  My father was young enough that it would be many, many years before he had to give up the throne, and I had five brothers ahead of me, ready to take his place if something happened.

  None of them would be any good for Eastola, and the people would continue to suffer and die and hate the royal family unless something changed. Unless I changed it.

  I kept turning it over and over in my head. Just a few months ago, I’d have never even been able to dream of one day being king, but now...now, I could see it. I could see myself doing good for the kingdom. Omar had changed me. He’d made me see my own worth. He’d made me see my own power. And now, I was contemplating the death of my family to use that power...maybe he’d also given me a dark streak.

  I turned to look at him, taking him in. My chest tightened. Sometimes I felt like I loved him so much that I couldn’t breathe.

  I leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. I loved how they pressed into a straight line while he slept. Even unconscious, he always looked a little bit angry. I smiled, not knowing why I found that a little bit sexy.

  I shivered under the sudden, overwhelming desire to please him, to taste him in a way that I hadn’t before.

  My heart started to beat a little faster in my chest, but I ignored my nerves, determined to give him back some of the pleasure he constantly gave me.

  Stealthily, I slipped down under the covers and got between his legs. He didn't even bother with pajamas most of the time, and he was naked, his cock heavy between his legs.

  Even soft it was big and delicious looking, and I'd been wanting to get my mouth on it practically since the moment I'd first seen it.

  I knew I wouldn't be able to take all of it. He looked massive, and I knew from experience that he felt even bigger. But that was okay. That fire of determination was sparked in me, and I wasn't going to back down.

  I wrapped one hand around the base of him, marveling at the way my fingers couldn't even meet all the way around him. He was just so big.

  His cock was warm and smooth, and I stroked him a little, laughing under my breath when it gave a little twitch and then started to fill in my hand.

  I licked my lips and dipped my head down, licking cautiously around the head and dipping my tongue into the little slit there.

  I'd touched my own cock before, of course, but this was different work. I'd never had one in my mouth before, but I'd heard my brothers joking about how there was no such thing as a bad blowjob.

  I didn't see how that was possible, especially when you factored teeth into the equation, but I could figure it out.

  At the very least, it would give me something else to concentrate on, and I'd take that.

  I kept my hand working at the base, and opened my mouth, easing it over the head of him. His cock was firm and heavy on my tongue, and his skin tasted clean and warm, making me hum softly around him.

  Slowly, I worked my way down, trying to get as much in as I could. Immediately I started drooling, not used to having something so big in my mouth, but maybe that would help.

  I went down too far, though, and as soon as the tip of his dick hit the back of my throat, I gagged and had to pull off, breathing hard.

  But I knew my limits after that, so it was easier to get back into it, taking it even slower and sucking shallowly at the head until the sticky, salty tang of his precum flooded my senses.

  Omar's hips bucked up a bit, and he stirred, moaning softly in his sleep.

  I remembered when he woke me up with his tongue in my ass and how at first it had felt like a hazy dream, the pleasure soft and warm, breaking through the fog of sleep. I'd had those kinds of dreams before, when I woke up sticky and alone, so my brain assumed that was what was happening.

  It seemed like Omar was in the same state, still asleep but riding out the pleasure, so I worked harder, trying to make it good for him.

  Whatever I couldn't reach with my mouth I got with my hand, the trails of drool that slipped down the shaft of his cock making the slide slick
er. I twisted my wrist and jacked him off while my mouth worked at the part I could reach, and there was still an inch or two left untouched. He was just so big, and I marveled that he'd managed to fit inside of me at all.

  My ass gave a twinge, reminding me that it had come at a struggle, and I was still healing from the pain of it, but it was still amazing.

  And the next time would be easier. Next time I would take him without crying, and it would be great.

  I took more of him in my mouth, testing my gag reflex and swallowing through the first sign of gagging. It helped, and I held him there, as far down as I could take him, before sucking my way back up.

  When I glanced up, Omar's eyes were open, and he was looking at me in the darkness.

  "I don't know what time it is, and I don't even care," he said, his voice sounding strained and deep with pleasure. "Fuck, you're perfect. Don't stop."

  I could do that. I could not stop for him. I smiled around my mouthful and kept going, bobbing my head faster as I fell into a rhythm. The more I got used to it, the easier it was.

  Omar settled his hand into my hair, not pushing me down, but just holding on, guiding me as I kept sucking him.

  "You're so good. What did I do to deserve you?" he asked, and his tone was so warm that I preened, making a happy noise.

  He seemed to like that because his cock twitched again, and I could tell he was getting close.

  I kept working him, my hand moving faster, my mouth taking as much as I could, and Omar's fingers tightened in my hair, holding me still as his hips bucked up once more and he flooded my mouth with his release.

  He swore under his breath as he came down, and his cock softened as I swallowed everything he'd given me.

  "I should have known you'd be amazing at sucking cock," he panted. "You're good at everything you try."

  "No I'm not," I protested, my cheeks flushing.

  "Don't argue with me," he teased. "And come up here."

  I did as I was told, smiling and tucking myself against his side, the taste of him still in my mouth.

  For a while, neither of us said anything, just laying together while the sky slowly got lighter and lighter outside. Soon we'd have to get up and go job hunting because our old ones had been destroyed. The community center was officially off limits, and not just us, but dozens of people would have to find work elsewhere.

  Thinking about it reignited the fire in my belly.

  "Were you serious earlier?" I asked him, already knowing the answer. "About...about me being king?"

  "Deadly serious," he replied, his voice even and firm. "If you want it, I can make it happen. I told you, Peanut. I’m your tank. You aim, and I fire. You deserve to rule, and the people deserve to have someone they can trust on the throne. I stand by that."

  "And about...my family?"

  I felt him move against me. "You don’t owe them anything," he said.

  I nodded and settled against him, closing my eyes and just listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat for a long while.

  I swallowed hard before I lifted my head to look at him.

  “Daddy,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. "I want to be king.”

  19

  Omar

  Once Zyke gave the go ahead, I put my brain into tactics mode. I knew how to kill people, of course. I'd been doing it since I was a teenager, first drafted into Belaria's army. A person had to be ready to kill or be killed at any time, and there had never been any leeway given to me because I was young and inexperienced. No one batted an eye if a soldier died in combat or elsewhere. There were always more to replace them.

  But I couldn't just walk into the palace and single-handedly wage war on the royal family. No, it had to be subtle. It had to look like an accident. After all, there were plenty of people who didn't like the princes and the king. It wouldn't be that far-fetched that someone might strike out, trying to thin their numbers.

  It had to happen organically enough that if I was found out, there weren't enough of them left to do anything about it.

  That would require some delicacy and planning, and for two weeks, I had been going over ideas, trying to think of the best and fastest way to get rid of them all so Zyke could sit on the throne.

  While I thought, Zyke kept himself busy. He worked and cleaned up the apartment, added more shit to the growing nest in our bedroom.

  He didn’t seem to mind if I mentally checked out for a few hours at a time, sitting, deep in thought, completely unaware of anything around me except for the soft sounds of his contentment near me. Sometimes he’d curl up in my lap and read, and I’d unconsciously cuddle him. It was a stark contrast to the deep dark thoughts in my mind, but one he seemed to instinctively know I needed. He anchored me. He kept me from getting lost in the darkness.

  Today, he’d decided to draw. I could feel him on me, straddling me as I laid across the bed while he drew pictures across my back. He was really good at entertaining himself like that, humming softly to himself while he let daddy think.

  I lifted my head, blinking as I brought myself back to reality and out of my own head.

  Zyke let out a little gasp as I turned to roll over beneath him, grabbing hold to keep him in place straddling me.

  “You’re back,” he said with a smile. “I missed you.”

  He’d gotten used to me going into my ‘mind cave’ as he liked to call it, the place where I disappeared to and figured out our future.

  He moved to kiss me, and I smiled as I watched him. I loved it when he tried to crawl up my body. His arms were too short, and my body was too thick. He always lost traction with the bed, and it turned into something of a slither rather than a sexy crawl.

  I reached up, cupping his ass to steady him as he bent forward to press his lips to mine.

  I instantly reacted, diving my tongue into his mouth, eagerly tasting him.

  “Any progress?” he asked breathlessly as he pulled back for air.

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Still thinking on it,” I said.

  He nodded, but there was a flash of hesitation on his face.

  “What’s wrong? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

  Zyke shook his head. “No, it’s not that, just… I don't want Ezra to die," he confessed.

  I frowned up at him. He was such a kind little heart, but this wasn’t the kind of job for kind hearts.

  "He's just...not as terrible as the others,” Zyke said. “He’s just kind of...stuck and scared."

  "Peanut," I said. "If you're going to be king, then they all have to die. No one can be alive to challenge your reign."

  “He’s not like that,” Zyke argued.

  “Every prince is like that.”

  Zyke’s lips set into a pout. “Please? Can’t we figure something else out. Just for him. Good riddance to the rest of them.”

  I sighed. Leaving one of them alive was a bad idea. We had no way of knowing if he would be loyal to Zyke or if he would stir up trouble. And normally, it was a risk I wouldn’t have been willing to take. But looking up into the sweet, sad eyes of my mate made me make bad decisions.

  I was completely and utterly incapable of denying him anything.

  I sighed again, shaking my head. "Alright, fine. He can live. We'll figure something out, but you owe me."

  Zyke's answering grin was so bright that it immediately made all the trouble this was going to cause worth it.

  He braced his palms against my chest and rocked his hips.

  "I can make it up to you, Daddy," he said. "Just tell me what you want." He punctuated the words with another slow roll of his hips, and I groaned, feeling my cock instantly respond.

  I put my hands on his hips, dragging him down to position him against my hardening cock. "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah.” He licked lips, letting out a little breath as he felt my erection poke underneath him. “Anything you want."

  "I can think of a few things. More than a few, really," I said, m
y voice dipping lower. "A lot of them have to do with you and that pretty mouth."

  He moaned softly, gently biting his lower lip and making me growl at the sight of him.

  “You’re so sexy,” I said, trailing my fingers up and down his sides.

  He shifted his weight, sliding off of me to reposition himself between my legs. He looked at me with those perfect gorgeous eyes before shifting his gaze to my crotch.

  There was a slight flush in his cheeks, but he didn’t hold back.

  “I want to taste you, Daddy.”

  I smiled, proud of him for being able to say the words so confidently.

  I nodded. “Go ahead, Peanut.”

  Not a moment passed before his fingers found my fly and started working it down.

  His eyes went dark and hungry as he worked my pants down over my hips, making my cock twitch again. I couldn't wait to feel that silky mouth on me.

  He smacked his lips together as he pulled my cock out, and gave it a long, slow once-over with his eyes.

  “I love your cock, Daddy.”

  I groaned in appreciation. “I’m going to come in ten seconds if you keep talking like that, Peanut.”

  Zyke licked his lips. “Mmm, yum. You promise?”

  I shuddered. I wasn’t prepared for a dirty-talking Zyke. It was just the kind of thing to make me explode without warning.

  Zyke wrapped delicate fingers around me with a tiny smirk, gently stroking me.

  He leaned forward, his mouth open and ready to take me in, but then he stopped with a frown.

  “Don’t tease me, Peanut” I growled, wondering what the hell had gotten into him today. "I need that sweet mouth.”

  I blinked and sat up when Zyke didn’t move or react. He had a strained look on his face as he dropped his hand from my dick.

  “You okay, Peanut?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

  "I—” he shuddered and went a little pale, not looking well at all.

  In a second, he was up on his feet and rushing to the bathroom.

  I jumped off the bed after him, tucking my dick back into my pants, my heart racing in my chest.