Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Chapter 233

Dron and Tempest stayed in the small room for a little while.

Dron was surprised that she hadn’t said anything about the fact that he’d basically ripped someone to pieces. All she seemed to be worried about was that he was losing himself.

It was a concerning thought that even though he wanted to promise her that he’d be okay if she somehow managed to be taken from him, he couldn’t.

The second most concerning thought was the fact that no matter how many times he replayed what had happened between him and Gushex in his mind, there wasn’t a single part of him that would change what he did.

Sure, he was remorseful that the man was injured in such a severe way, but Dron knew he’d do it again if he had to.

They were silent for a short while, and then there was a soft rapping on the door.

Dron got up from where he was sitting on the crate and walked over. He expected to see Gerax or even Mexyn. Instead, he saw Kraznek. The alpha was on the other ship, so it meant someone must have gone over there and retrieved him.

But for what purpose? The fight was over. There was nothing for Kraznek to do here.

The grim look on Kraznek’s face let Dron know that whatever was about to happen, he wouldn’t like it.

"What is it?"

"You either need to take one of the ships and leave, or you need to get out here and quell this."

Dron’s jaw dropped. He waited for Kraznek’s expression to change or for him to say that he was joking. It didn’t happen.

"What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere," Dron replied.

"Why? Why does he have to leave?" Tempest asked from behind.

Dron stopped her from stepping in front of him. He didn’t need Tempest to fight his battles.

"I’m not going anywhere," Dron said again.

"I figured as much. Unfortunately, there’s an uprising brewing."

Dron blinked slowly. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "An uprising... against me?"

"Yes. It’s going to get bad if we don’t put a stop to it."

Tempest threw her hands up. "This is ridiculous."

"No... it’s not. The rumors must be flying around the ship by now." Dron ran his hands through his hair.

If this were any other time, he wouldn’t care, but he already knew that things were tense. He couldn’t afford to land in Thraqe with a bunch of people who didn’t want to be there with him. He’d lose before the first blow was thrown.

"I’m coming. Make an announcement that anyone who has any grievances should come to the top deck. I’ll talk to them."

Kraznek shook his head. "I’m not sure everyone is going to want to talk. Some are out for blood."

Dron clenched his jaw. "If it’s blood they want, that’s what they’ll get."

Tempest quickly grabbed hold of Dron’s arm and pulled him around.

"Maybe it’s best if Mexyn and I talk to the people. I’m sure even Hen would say a few words. We can get everyone to calm down."

Dron shook his head. "No, they don’t need to be calmed. They need to learn. The only way that’s going to happen is if I step up."

Tempest’s mouth opened slightly. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that. Not even Dron expected himself to say it, but it was the truth. There was no halfway in or halfway out with this. If he were going to be the leader, he would have to do it all the way.

Dron stepped past Kraznek and made his way toward the top deck. He could hear the commotion before he even reached the stairs. There were so many voices speaking at once that he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying, but he didn’t need to. He recognized the anger in their voices. He’d heard it plenty of times before, usually directed at the High Royals or the soldiers who’d carried out their orders.

Now it was directed at him.

When Dron stepped onto the deck, he was met with a sea of angry faces. There were alphas, betas, and humans gathered together, some standing on crates so they could see over the others. The crowd stretched across nearly the entire deck, leaving very little room for anyone to move. Dron recognized several of the males who’d fought beside him in Skoq. Others were from the tribes that had joined them after the attack on the human settlement.

The moment they saw him, the shouting grew louder.

"There he is!"

"You think you can just tear us apart whenever you feel like it?"

"He’s a fucking savage!"

"He’s no better than the High Royals!"

Dron stopped at the top of the stairs.

For a moment, he was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people standing against him. These were the same people who’d followed him onto the ships. The same people who’d trusted him to lead them toward Thraqe. Now they were looking at him as if he were the very enemy they’d come together to destroy.

A large alpha pushed toward the front of the crowd.

"You’re a tyrant! Gushex challenged you, and you took his arm!"

"He’s crazy!" someone shouted from farther back. "What happens when one of us says something he doesn’t like? Are you going to kill us too?"

The crowd erupted again.

Dron’s first instinct was to roar at them to be quiet. He could feel the anger building in his chest, but he forced himself to remain still. Tempest’s words were still fresh in his mind. These people had a right to speak. They had a right to question him.

That didn’t mean he had to agree with them.

Kraznek moved to his side, followed by several of the soldiers who’d originally come with Dron. They spread out behind him, forming a line between Dron and the crowd. Their expressions were hard, their bodies tense as they watched the angry alphas pushing forward.

Dron recognized the stance.

They were preparing for another fight.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Not again.

"Stand down," Dron ordered quietly.

Kraznek looked at him. "They’re getting restless."

"I can see that."

"They might rush you."

"Then let them try."

Kraznek didn’t look pleased with that answer, but he remained at Dron’s side.

Dron took another step forward. The crowd didn’t quiet down. If anything, his movement seemed to encourage them.

"Where’s Gushex?" one of the alphas demanded.

"Gerax is treating him," Dron answered.

"And if he dies?"

Dron stared at the male. "Then he dies."

A wave of angry shouting rolled through the crowd.

Dron knew how cold the words sounded, but he wasn’t going to pretend there wasn’t a possibility that Gushex wouldn’t survive. He’d seen the damage he’d done. He knew exactly how much blood the male had lost.

He wasn’t going to stand there and offer promises he couldn’t keep.

"You don’t even care!" a human woman shouted.

Dron turned toward her.

"I care more than you know."

"Then why did you do it?"

Dron looked over the crowd. He could see the fear beneath their anger. They’d watched him lose control. They’d seen what he was capable of, and now they were wondering if the same thing could happen to them.

He understood.

He’d been brutal in his treatment of Gushex. There was no denying that. He’d taken a male who’d been strong enough to fight beside him and left him without an arm. Gushex might never be able to fight the way he once had.

But Dron wasn’t going to stand there and apologize for protecting Tempest.

"Enough!"

His voice thundered across the deck.

The nearest people fell silent. A few farther back continued shouting until they realized no one around them was speaking anymore.

Dron waited until he had their attention.

"Every single one of you chose to be here."

He looked from one face to another.

"No one dragged you onto these ships. No one forced you to leave Skoq. You came because you wanted something better. You came because you were tired of being told where you could live, who you could love, and what you were worth."

Several people shifted uncomfortably.

"You wanted to fight against the High Royals. You wanted to take back what was stolen from you. I told you that we could do it. I told you that if we stood together, we had a chance."

Dron stepped farther onto the deck.

"But I never told you it would be easy."

The crowd remained quiet.

"I never promised you peace. I never promised you that we would sail into Thraqe and be welcomed with open arms. I told you we were going to fight. I told you there would be sacrifices. Some of you have already lost people you love. Others have nearly died from an illness none of us knew existed. And you think that’s the worst we’re going to face?"

A few of the alphas lowered their eyes.

"We haven’t even reached Thraqe!"

Dron’s voice rose.

"The High Royals haven’t sent their soldiers against us yet. They haven’t seen what we’ve built or what we’ve brought together. And already some of you are ready to turn around because you’ve found a little happiness on these ships."

"We don’t want to lose what we’ve found!" someone shouted.

"Neither do I!"

Dron’s answer came so quickly that the male fell silent.

"Do you think I want to lose Tempest? Do you think I want to watch more of my people die? I want peace just as much as the rest of you. But what do you think is going to happen when the High Royals find out what we’ve done? Do you think they’ll simply allow us to live happily in Skoq? Do you think they’ll leave the humans alone now that they know what they’re capable of?"

No one answered.

"They’ll come for us. They’ll come for our mates. They’ll come for our children, and they’ll destroy everything we’ve worked to build because that’s what they’ve always done."

Dron paused, allowing his words to settle over the crowd.

"Some of you are calling me a savage. A tyrant. You’re saying I’m no better than the High Royals because of what happened to Gushex."

"You’re the one who ripped his arm off!" an alpha shouted.

"Yes, I did."

Dron didn’t hesitate.

"And every alpha standing here who has found his fated mate knows exactly why."

A murmur moved through the crowd.

Dron pointed toward the males standing closest to him.

"If someone struck your mate, what would you do? If you watched another alpha knock her to the ground, would you stand there and politely ask him not to do it again?"

The male who’d been shouting at him looked away.

"Answer me!"

"I’d kill him," another alpha admitted.

Several others nodded.

"Exactly."

Dron straightened his shoulders.

"Gushex struck my mate. I reacted. I won’t stand here and apologize for protecting her, and I won’t pretend any of you would have shown more restraint if it had been your own fated mate lying on that deck."

There were still angry faces among the crowd, but the shouting had stopped.

Dron knew he hadn’t convinced everyone. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe a few words would erase what they’d witnessed.

He didn’t need them to forget.

He needed them to understand what came next.

"Now, I’m going to make something very clear. I did not ask to be your leader. I didn’t ask for these markings, and I certainly didn’t ask anyone to call me king. But you followed me here, and I accepted the responsibility that came with it."

Dron moved to the center of the deck, leaving Kraznek and the other soldiers behind him.

"If you want someone who will promise you that no one else will die, find another leader. If you want someone who will tell you that we can win this war without spilling blood, find another leader. I won’t lie to you just to make you feel better."

He looked across the crowd, making sure they could all hear him.

"But if you want someone who will stand at the front when the High Royals come for us, someone who will fight before asking any of you to lift a weapon, then I’m standing right here."

A heavy silence settled over the deck.

Dron could feel the eyes of every person watching him.

"We are going to Thraqe. We are going to confront the High Royals, and we are going to fight for the right to live without their permission. That is the path I am taking. Anyone who chooses to follow me needs to understand that there will be no turning back once we arrive."

He took a slow breath.

"I won’t force anyone to fight. If you want to leave, we’ll discuss how to get you somewhere safe. But I will not turn this entire fleet around because some of you have decided that hiding is easier than finishing what we started."

Kraznek stepped forward until he was standing beside Dron.

"I’m with you."

One of the soldiers behind him nodded.

"As am I."

Several more voices followed.

Dron didn’t look back at them. His attention remained on the crowd.

He could see the uncertainty on their faces. Some were still angry. Others looked ashamed. A few were whispering among themselves, probably trying to decide whether they wanted to continue following him.

That was fine.

They could make their decisions.

But they weren’t going to make his.

Dron lifted his chin.

"From this moment forward, there will be no confusion about who is leading this mission. I will listen when you have concerns. I will hear your arguments, and I will consider what is best for everyone here. But when a decision has been made, I expect us to stand together. We cannot go into Thraqe divided and expect to survive."

His eyes moved over the gathered alphas.

"And if anyone believes they can challenge me for command, then they had better understand exactly what they’re asking for."

No one moved.

Dron let the silence stretch.

"You’re either with me or you’re not. Make your choice."

He stood there waiting, refusing to lower his gaze or soften his words.

For the first time since he’d stepped onto the deck, no one shouted at him.

Dron didn’t know whether that meant he’d won their respect or simply reminded them of what he was capable of.

At that moment, he wasn’t sure he cared.

He had a war to win, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him before it had even begun.