To heal a Rogue

JOHANN

”I am your Prince,” I said.

Both sentinels dropped to their knees at that, fear written plainly across their faces, and something in me almost softened at the sight of it.

”At least there’s still some sense left in you,” I said, moving toward the entrance.

The nearer sentinel swallowed hard.

Then, despite the tremor running through his arm, he lifted it across my path.

”I am sorry, Your Highness.”

I stared at the hand blocking me.

”The regent is our commanding officer,” he continued, forcing each word out as though he expected it to earn him an execution. ”His orders take precedence over every other command until he withdraws them.”

Silence settled between us.

Not my command.

His.

The sentinel kept his head lowered, too frightened to meet my eyes, yet somehow still willing to deny me.

The realization crawled beneath my skin.

Only yesterday, they would have moved before I even spoke.

Only yesterday, invoking my title would have ended the conversation.

Now two ordinary sentinels were apologizing while refusing me entry because Lysander had spoken first.

He hadn’t merely survived the assassination.

He had become regent.

And in a single night, that title had given him something infinitely more dangerous than authority.

It had given other people permission to tell me no.

The sentinel’s voice came again, quieter this time.

”We know how this must feel, but... we cannot disobey him, Your Highness.”

I looked from one kneeling guard to the other.

Neither hated me. Neither wished to insult me.

They were simply doing their duty. But for some reason, that made it worse.

Something inside me gave way, and my hand struck his face before I’d consciously decided to raise it.

The crack echoed through the corridor.

His head snapped to the side, but he didn’t cry out.

He simply remained on one knee.

I hit him again. Harder.

His lip split against his teeth, a bead of blood running down his chin.

”Oh?” I said softly. ”Is that how it works now?”

He said nothing.

”I give you an order,” I screamed at his pathetic face before dashing him another slap. ”You refuse.”

Another, meant to hurt even more than the last, followed.

”Then you hide behind Lysander’s.” The name tasted foul even as I said it.

I caught him by the front of his uniform and hauled him upright just enough to drive my fist into his ribs.

Air rushed from his lungs in a broken gasp as he folded over instinctively.

”My regent,” I mocked quietly. ”My commanding officer.”

I drove my boot into his side.

He crumpled, one arm wrapping around his ribs, the other still planted on the floor as though some stubborn part of him refused to collapse completely.

I looked to the second sentinel. For a moment, I thought he might intervene.

Instead, he stood frozen, his hands twitched once at his sides before falling still again.

He wasn’t choosing loyalty exactly. It was more like he was choosing to save his own skin.

He knew exactly what would happen if he stepped between us, which was good for me.

At least, some monkey here still understood where fear belonged.

I looked back at the man on the floor.

Blood dripped steadily from his mouth onto the stone.

He made no attempt to fight me. No attempt to defend himself. He simply endured.

And somehow... Somehow that obedience only deepened the humiliation burning beneath my skin.

I drew my fist back once more.

A hand closed around my wrist before I could throw the next punch.

The grip didn’t budge.

”It’s becoming rather unbecoming to behave this way, Prince Johann,” a deep voice said behind me. ”You are royalty. Conduct yourself accordingly.”

I turned.

Beta Bradley stood behind me, his face unreadable, his broad frame blocking the corridor. There was no anger in his expression, only a weary sort of disappointment that somehow irritated me more.

”Oh,” I said. ”You’re back.”

”Just in time,” he replied, ”to stop my Alpha’s son from disgracing his father’s memory before the entire estate.”

His gaze drifted past me to the sentinel on the floor, then to the second guard, who remained frozen where he stood.

”You are beating sentinels for obeying the chain of command.”

”They were insolent.”

”They were obedient.”

”They denied me fucking entry.”

”They obeyed the regent.”

I laughed once.

”So that’s what we’re calling it now? Obedience?”

”That is precisely what we are calling it because that is what it is.”

I pulled against his grip. He didn’t move.

”In that case, I was clearly just disciplining them.”

”No,” Bradley said quietly. ”You were punishing them because someone else’s authority prevailed over yours.”

The words landed like a slap.

”I arrived before you struck the first blow. I heard every word that was exchanged. I saw too.” His eyes settled on mine. ”They addressed you with respect. They acknowledged your title. They knelt before you. Then they fulfilled the duty they swore to uphold.”

He released a slow breath.

”If Lysander has ordered that the rogue remains untouched until he questions him himself, then that order carries the force of law. For the moment, he is regent. As Beta, I am bound to uphold his authority just as these men are. Would you have struck me too?”

”Oh, Fuck you!”

His grip tightened just enough to remind me I needed to watch my fucking tone. It was like he still saw me as the child he trained for battle.

After some seconds of terse silence, he spoke again.

”So tell me, my Prince,” he said. ”Shall we leave with what remains of your dignity, or shall you continue proving to every witness that you mistake wounded pride for leadership? Especially given the polarizing things people have been saying about your cousin.”

I scoffed again and yanked my wrist free, shoving past him hard enough that my shoulder caught his on the way out, and I didn’t look back to see how he took it.

His presence, his calm, that measured little speech about propriety and law, only made the fury in my chest burn hotter.