As soon as Charles rolled off of the boy, the boy scrambled away defensively.
Neither said anything.
Charles wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind.
It wasn’t like that time in the prison.
The boy had only been the enemy to him then. A pretty enemy conveniently going through an Omega’s heat, but nothing more than that.
Now he was Master Kenway’s son. Now he was a formidable foe with a keen intellect, absolutely devastating with weapons in hand and the mother of his unborn child.
He’d forced himself on his soon-to-be-wife.
Charles felt ill.
He’d always considered himself a decent man.
Compared to the likes of the deceased Hickey and even Church, Charles truly did what he felt was right.
To those that he felt worthy of such consideration, that is. He’d had no qualms strangling the boy when he was a child in the woods because he was only a filthy savage at the time. Charles didn’t know that he was Master Kenway’s son. And he’d not held back when it came to the Assassin Brotherhood.
They were, after all, the enemy. It would be foolish to be kind to the enemy.
And even then, he’d sometimes been, if not kind, then fairly considerate to them. He hadn’t killed the boy as he could have that day in the woods. And he did not necessarily torment the Assassins before killing them.
And so, when the boy had only been a filthy savage enemy, well...
Charles wasn’t particularly proud of that moment, but he didn’t dwell much on it.
But now...
He glanced at the boy watching him warily through those lovely amber-brown eyes.
Now he’d forced himself onto a boy he was soon to marry. A boy he was beginning to admire and whose father he greatly respected.
A boy he was not yet married to and, thus, had no right to bed.
He had done something despicable.
Master Kenway was going to kill him.
He had to fix this.
He started towards the boy, but then halted when he saw a visible flinch.
“A-are you injured?”
It was a stupid thing to say. He could see the way the boy winced at every involuntary movement and knew that he must have caused some damage in his mad entry.
“I, I’m sorry. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I truly did not mean for this.”
And he really didn’t. Not at the beginning.
He’d, well, he didn’t know how he came to this. He was mad at the boy for ignoring him again and...
It was rude. It irked him.
He’d been on his best behavior for the boy and to be rewarded thus...
“If you had been polite and observant of—“
The boy’s eyes flashed a solid gold.
Charles’s mouth shut.
“Polite?”
The word came out as a whisper.
It sounded no less dangerous for its softness.
“And pray tell, how am I to be polite?”
Engaging him in conversation. Being grateful for his protection. Letting him near him and...
Charles did not say any of these things.
He was aware of how ridiculous they sounded.
“You mean whore, I suppose. An obedient, perfect little whore for you to take as you please and feel proud of how you conquered and tamed your foe.”
Charles squirmed uncomfortably.
Through a different lens, then, yes, he supposed it could be seen in that way.
But he really did not mean it like that.
Really.
The boy stalked forward, fury triumphing over his earlier fear.
“You are a beast. A ravenous disgusting example of an Alpha who only seeks to whet his own appetite. Do you think I have not seen you pawing over me the past few days? Do you think I did not see the way you glared at your so-called Templar brothers when they dared press their suit?”
Charles gulped. He’d believed Master Kenway to be dangerous to his health.
He was not sure if he had the correct Kenway.
“You like to think yourself so much better than me and mine. You like to think of yourself as smarter and more capable than the commander, as more civilized and worthy than my people and more righteous in your cause than the Brotherhood.”
The boy was nearly to him now, and he could see the way his hands clenched, as if he wanted nothing more than to strangle Charles.
Charles was larger and could pin the young Omega again, but...
There was something very frightening about him.
“And now you have decided that you want me. Because I carry your child in my body.”
Quick as a snake, the boy’s hand jabbed forward, grabbed Charles’s knife from his belt and had him against the wall, blade pressed firmly to his throat, body trapping one of his hands and the boy’s other hand immobilizing the other.
“You are heavier and larger than me. And you caught me by surprise earlier. But that will not avail you now.”
The blade pressed into his vulnerable throat and a single red drop of blood formed.
Charles looked about for a way to free himself, but the stiffening of the boy’s muscles told him that any move on his part would end up with his throat slit.
Oh God, he was going to die.
The boy leaned close to whisper.
“If it were not for the fact that your men have the commander in their sights and would risk the entirety of this war with England for you, then I would kill you right here and now. And I want to. Believe me, I want to.”
He paused.
“But unlike you, I can put the end goal above myself. I can make sure that my emotions do not jeopardize everything else I care for.”
The boy abruptly released him, and Charles fell gasping.
The boy then turned and began to make his way back to his quarters.
“Tell my Father that he broke his word to me and owes me recompense. I will not marry you, and he will not order the commander killed.”
No!
Charles opened his mouth to remind the boy that he was surrounded by Templars, and that there was little he could do if they decided to kill Washington.
The boy paused on the staircase and turned to face him.
“Know this, Lee.”
Charles was taken aback by the utter hate on that face.
“I will kill you in the end. Not now, and maybe not for a very long time. But I will.”
And with that, he hobbled up the stairs and disappeared into his quarters.
Strange Fates 20
Chapter 20 - Anger
As soon as Charles rolled off of the boy, the boy scrambled away defensively.
Neither said anything.
Charles wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind.
It wasn’t like that time in the prison.
The boy had only been the enemy to him then. A pretty enemy conveniently going through an Omega’s heat, but nothing more than that.
Now he was Master Kenway’s son. Now he was a formidable foe with a keen intellect, absolutely devastating with weapons in hand and the mother of his unborn child.
He’d forced himself on his soon-to-be-wife.
Charles felt ill.
He’d always considered himself a decent man.
Compared to the likes of the deceased Hickey and even Church, Charles truly did what he felt was right.
To those that he felt worthy of such consideration, that is. He’d had no qualms strangling the boy when he was a child in the woods because he was only a filthy savage at the time. Charles didn’t know that he was Master Kenway’s son. And he’d not held back when it came to the Assassin Brotherhood.
They were, after all, the enemy. It would be foolish to be kind to the enemy.
And even then, he’d sometimes been, if not kind, then fairly considerate to them. He hadn’t killed the boy as he could have that day in the woods. And he did not necessarily torment the Assassins before killing them.
And so, when the boy had only been a filthy savage enemy, well...
Charles wasn’t particularly proud of that moment, but he didn’t dwell much on it.
But now...
He glanced at the boy watching him warily through those lovely amber-brown eyes.
Now he’d forced himself onto a boy he was soon to marry. A boy he was beginning to admire and whose father he greatly respected.
A boy he was not yet married to and, thus, had no right to bed.
He had done something despicable.
Master Kenway was going to kill him.
He had to fix this.
He started towards the boy, but then halted when he saw a visible flinch.
“A-are you injured?”
It was a stupid thing to say. He could see the way the boy winced at every involuntary movement and knew that he must have caused some damage in his mad entry.
“I, I’m sorry. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I truly did not mean for this.”
And he really didn’t. Not at the beginning.
He’d, well, he didn’t know how he came to this. He was mad at the boy for ignoring him again and...
It was rude. It irked him.
He’d been on his best behavior for the boy and to be rewarded thus...
“If you had been polite and observant of—“
The boy’s eyes flashed a solid gold.
Charles’s mouth shut.
“Polite?”
The word came out as a whisper.
It sounded no less dangerous for its softness.
“And pray tell, how am I to be polite?”
Engaging him in conversation. Being grateful for his protection. Letting him near him and...
Charles did not say any of these things.
He was aware of how ridiculous they sounded.
“You mean whore, I suppose. An obedient, perfect little whore for you to take as you please and feel proud of how you conquered and tamed your foe.”
Charles squirmed uncomfortably.
Through a different lens, then, yes, he supposed it could be seen in that way.
But he really did not mean it like that.
Really.
The boy stalked forward, fury triumphing over his earlier fear.
“You are a beast. A ravenous disgusting example of an Alpha who only seeks to whet his own appetite. Do you think I have not seen you pawing over me the past few days? Do you think I did not see the way you glared at your so-called Templar brothers when they dared press their suit?”
Charles gulped. He’d believed Master Kenway to be dangerous to his health.
He was not sure if he had the correct Kenway.
“You like to think yourself so much better than me and mine. You like to think of yourself as smarter and more capable than the commander, as more civilized and worthy than my people and more righteous in your cause than the Brotherhood.”
The boy was nearly to him now, and he could see the way his hands clenched, as if he wanted nothing more than to strangle Charles.
Charles was larger and could pin the young Omega again, but...
There was something very frightening about him.
“And now you have decided that you want me. Because I carry your child in my body.”
Quick as a snake, the boy’s hand jabbed forward, grabbed Charles’s knife from his belt and had him against the wall, blade pressed firmly to his throat, body trapping one of his hands and the boy’s other hand immobilizing the other.
“You are heavier and larger than me. And you caught me by surprise earlier. But that will not avail you now.”
The blade pressed into his vulnerable throat and a single red drop of blood formed.
Charles looked about for a way to free himself, but the stiffening of the boy’s muscles told him that any move on his part would end up with his throat slit.
Oh God, he was going to die.
The boy leaned close to whisper.
“If it were not for the fact that your men have the commander in their sights and would risk the entirety of this war with England for you, then I would kill you right here and now. And I want to. Believe me, I want to.”
He paused.
“But unlike you, I can put the end goal above myself. I can make sure that my emotions do not jeopardize everything else I care for.”
The boy abruptly released him, and Charles fell gasping.
The boy then turned and began to make his way back to his quarters.
“Tell my Father that he broke his word to me and owes me recompense. I will not marry you, and he will not order the commander killed.”
No!
Charles opened his mouth to remind the boy that he was surrounded by Templars, and that there was little he could do if they decided to kill Washington.
The boy paused on the staircase and turned to face him.
“Know this, Lee.”
Charles was taken aback by the utter hate on that face.
“I will kill you in the end. Not now, and maybe not for a very long time. But I will.”
And with that, he hobbled up the stairs and disappeared into his quarters.