by Nina Walker
So why would my father leave the kingdom?
Several things click into place at once. “Is my father a spy?” I turn back to the King, my heart hammering. When he doesn’t immediately reply, I have my answer. “He is, isn’t he? He hasn’t just been traveling around the kingdom for you, he’s been crossing the border into enemy territory at your request.”
“No,” Mother says. “Paul wouldn’t take that risk. He promised me.”
“Tell us,” I beg the King in a raspy whisper. Tears break free and run down my cheeks, two hot trails of pain and sadness. “Please, you know what I’ve done for your family, what I am doing for you now. I deserve the truth.”
Titus stills, his shoulders softening, and turns to the physician. “Would you please leave us for a few minutes?”
The man, pale as a ghost, takes no time scurrying out of the room. It’s just the four of us now. If I wanted, I could shift into my dragon form and assassinate the king where he stands. It’s the only thought I’ve had in days that gives me a moment of relief.
“It’s complicated.” The King lets out a slow breath, finally stepping further into the room and approaching my father. “But yes, Paul has been crossing the border for me.”
Anger burns deep, ripping its way out to the surface. “How could you ask him to do that?” I seethe. “You know the risks! My father considers you one of his closest friends.”
He ignores me, and I’m over it. I’m over the lies, over the choices others have made that have hurt me. The Brightcaster clan may be beloved and powerful, but they have cost me too much.
“Is he going to make it?” Mother asks, tears shining in her eyes. For as much as she and I oppose one another, we’ve always had the same soft spot for Father. He’s the only thing that keeps us together.
“We’ve seen this a few times before with our spies,” Titus says. “I’m afraid he won’t die but he won’t wake, either. He’ll be stuck in this torment.”
The room is silent as we all stare at my father.
“For how long?” Mother asks.
“Until we end his misery.”
Mom and I both shoot him deadly glares, outrage burning us up. As if that is an appropriate answer. How dare he even consider it?
“No,” she snaps.
My voice is shrill, “How do we cure him?” My elements are rising underneath my skin, especially the fire. I will not let anyone hurt my father. I will kill them first!
Once again, his silence tells me all I need to know and the anger only doubles. Titus doesn’t have a way to help my father. Would it be more cruel to leave him like this? Should we end his suffering? Those are the unspoken words that die on my lips because I do not have the strength to consider it.
“You have to do something,” I challenge. “You have to at least try to help him.”
“Of course I will do everything I can to help your father,” the King states matter-of-factly. “But for now I must take my leave. I assure you both”—he levels his gaze on my mother and I—“we will keep searching for a way to break this hex.”
Again, I don’t believe a word that falls from his mouth.
“Wait,” I call out as his hand rests on the doorknob. He didn’t bring any guards with him today, stupid man. He should know better than to underestimate me. Again, I’m tempted by the idea of assassination. “You never told us why you were sending him over the border. Don’t we deserve to know what was so important to risk his life?”
He turns back and clenches his jaw, his kingly stature returning to his broad shoulders. “It’s classified,” he snaps, leaving us with more questions than answers.
I hate him.
There’s a storm of emotions raging inside, destroying my heart, but hopelessness is perhaps the worst of them. All I want is for things to return to what they once were. For Owen to be alive and for us to be on our way to starting a life together. For my mother to carry on with her courtly intrigues instead of hovering over my father like a ghost. And for my father to be safe, whole, and healthy once more. But magic doesn’t work like that, at least not mine. I have no means to change my past, and my future has spun so far out of my control, I can scarcely recognize it.
It’s all hopeless.
I walk down the corridor alone, a rarity for me, but I couldn’t stand to be in that room for a second longer. The night fell hours ago, and the castle has since grown quiet. I need to change and bathe, to gather my thoughts, sleep for a while, and then I’ll return to my parents, and Mother and I can brainstorm ideas for Father’s healing.
I’m hardly ever alone. The sensation is a little nerve-wracking, but also freeing. I usually have Lady Faros to attend me or one of my semi-friends from court to chirp in my ear as I go from one duty to the next. I call them semi-friends because they don’t really care about me, they only care about what I can do for them. They’re nowhere to be found these days.
Since Owen’s death and Father’s subsequent illness, I haven’t been available for socializing, and they haven’t been available for consoling. And I saw no need for Faros to stand around aimlessly while Mother and I tend to Father during this time, so I dismissed her until further notice. She didn’t want to leave me. I didn’t really want her to leave me either. But I did it anyway. Nothing is how it was. King Titus never sent any of his guards to watch me, foolish as he is; he must have decided I wasn’t a threat or in any danger. Why would I be in danger when the murderers around here all need me alive?
I’m almost to my chambers when a faint giggle drifts through the corridor. That’s a sound that isn’t so strange around this massive castle, considering so many live here. I ignore it, as I always do. What do I care for affairs and romantic secrets? It’s always been beneath me.
A man’s voice whispers darkly and cackles. I stop. Apprehension crawls over my skin. I know that voice. I should leave. Whatever this is—and I’m sure I already know—is none of my business, but I tiptoe toward the hushed voices anyway. Around this corner lies a darkened alcove, one of the many that rarely get decent light during the day, and at night, are used for their shadows. I’m certain that’s where this couple is, and if it were anyone else, I would ignore them and move on.
But that damned voice…
The woman giggles again and then she lets out a deep sigh. The man mumbles and groans hungrily. I hold my breath, not quite believing I’m going to follow their promiscuous noises. But it’s not like anyone else is forbidden from the act of kissing before marriage as I am. I peer around the alcove, straining against the wall of darkness, wondering if perhaps I should announce myself. My eyes adjust, and I see them for myself.
Against the far end of the alcove, two figures press together. The man towers over his partner as his hands greedily rove up and down her body. So not just kissing. I gasp, stepping back as the pair breaks apart. It’s exactly who I thought. Silas. Silas and… not a woman… but a girl by the innocent looks of her.
The girl smirks at me, her wide eyes twinkling as she runs her hand possessively along his arm. I try to place her. Her clothing is disheveled, the bodice of her mauve dress far too loose and her pink rouge smeared across her cheek. She doesn’t seem to care, but rather wears her appearance as a badge.
“Come to watch or did you want to join in?” Silas grins, turning toward me.
“Do you have no shame?” I snap, disgusted.
He shrugs and the girl laughs. I recognize her as a Duke’s daughter but I can’t remember which nor can I recall her name. She’s at least two years younger than my seventeen, maybe three, and certainly not of age to be behaving this way with a man of nineteen. This kind of behavior may be normal around here, but not for a girl so young.
“Oh, Khali,” Silas says. “If you could see your face right now. You really thought I was saving myself for you, didn’t you?”
I bite my tongue, holding back the hate I’m dying to speak. Of course I knew there was a double standard when it came to me and the princes, but it’s never been thro
wn in my face before tonight. I’ve heard whispers, seen flirtations now and then, but I assumed it was all harmless. This is so callous, I don’t even know what to think.
He sighs, tucking the girl closer to him but making no attempt to leave. “My father is an anomaly, did you know that? He’s chosen to stay monogamous with my mother, the darling man. But most kings before him kept courtesans and I intend to do the same. Gods know you’re not going to come to my bed without force.” He runs his tongue along his lips. “We’ll both learn to appreciate my playthings to keep me company.”
The girl smacks him but then runs her hand through his hair and roughly pulls herself closer to him. He laughs and returns to kissing her hungrily. “Let’s go to my room,” he says, loud enough for me to hear. “I need to get you back into my bed before I take you right here.”
She giggles. “Would here be so bad? We might enjoy it.”
“If you insist,” he replies excitedly, lifting her skirt like he’s done it countless times.
Bile rises in my stomach.
My entire body is alive with shock and disgust, and I stumble away, hurrying back to my chambers. I slam the door behind me and lean against it for strength, struggling to catch my breath. I can’t. I run to the bathing chamber to empty what little contents I have in my stomach. It takes several minutes to calm the ache before I can return to my bed and rest.
Silas is my fiancé and yet he’s carrying on like it means nothing. And that foolish girl is far too young to have already turned herself into his mistress. He’s taking advantage of her and she’s a willing participant. How long has he been carrying on like this? Do her parents know? Are they encouraging it?
I’m a fool to have thought I knew anything about the Brightcaster family and their moral character. A guilty thought comes to my mind, a thought that says I’m just like that girl. I’m also a willing participant in all of this, even if I tell myself I’m not happy about it. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m engaged to that vile creature, am I not?
My mind runs and runs into the early morning hours, sleep too far away to grasp.
Is Silas carrying on with other women besides this one? I don’t know the answer but I do know that Silas choosing to be in that alcove by my chambers wasn’t an accident. He wanted me to catch them. He wanted me to see that while I may become his queen, he will still carry on however he wishes. That he is the one with the power and always will be.
I’m nothing but a prize to be won, unwrapped, used, and then cast aside.
My chest heaves up and down, and I clench my fists so tightly that I draw blood. I’m not hurt—I’m livid. And no matter how much power Silas thinks he has over me, I won’t stand by and let him continue to flaunt his power. One way or another, I’m going to end Silas Brightcaster. But first, I have to save myself.
13
Hazel
Three days after the incident with Dean, Katherine Donahue’s body is pulled from a nearby lake.
The police called a press conference and announced their suspicions comfirmed of foul play, opening it up as a murder investigation. That was yesterday and now her death is all anyone can talk about. That, and the fact that two other college girls have gone missing over the last two years: Tessa Smith and Charlene Connelly. Both brand new college freshmen when they disappeared, just like Katherine. But their bodies were never found. It’s not lost on anybody that there’s a connection. The pattern is unmistakable.
And now that there’s a high school senior missing as well, everyone is on edge.
“I didn’t know any of this when I picked Hayden College,” Macy complains as the three of us walk to our Anthropology class Wednesday morning. “Had I known, I would’ve gone somewhere else. I mean, I was waitlisted at Vanderbilt. I should have pursued that more.”
“I didn’t know either,” I complain, looking around the beautifully landscaped campus. It’s everything pictured from the brochures, with its sprawling manicured lawns and red-bricked buildings. “It’s not like these missing girls showed up in a Google search for Hayden College.” Once again I’m struck by the fact that I not only got into this place, but I received a full scholarship. It was the only scholarship I got and I applied to a lot of schools that weren’t as highly ranked as this one.
What if it wasn’t an accident? What if someone wanted me here for a specific reason that has nothing to do with academics? An icy shiver runs down my spine. No way. Don’t be ridiculous.
“Well, the world is going to know all about this creepy school now!” Macy says, smoothing out her glossy strawberry hair. As if it could get any smoother, it’s always perfect.
Cora rolls her eyes bitterly. “Girls our age go missing all the time. Especially women of color and especially women on tribal lands. The amount who just up and disappear is disgusting. And do most of these women get any sort of news coverage or fanfare?”
I shake my head, hating the answer as I say it, “They don’t.”
“That’s right,” Cora continues. “They don’t. But this is different. This is a possible serial killer targeting beautiful caucasian girls. It’s bound to get national attention if it hasn’t already.”
We continue discussing the unfairness of news coverage giving preferential treatment, all the while goosebumps spread over my body. This is so creepy. No, it’s more than that. This whole situation is downright terrifying. But at least I haven’t seen any more of these girls’ ghosts. Just Katherine. But since meeting Harmony, even Katherine has disappeared. I make a mental note to thank Harmony again. The woman may be an oddball but she certainly knows her stuff. I don’t feel haunted anymore. I still see ghosts now and again, but thanks to the little black beads of obsidian around my neck, they can’t send me images unless I allow it.
Well, except if they’re spirits of the dragon variety.
Then, apparently, they can send me all sorts of images without my permission. I shiver to think of that monstrous creature lurking around here, and the striking girl with the mismatched eyes also returns to my memory, followed by the castle and the way they were all dressed like it was medieval times. The things I saw that didn’t make any sense… and the frantic, fearful energy surrounding it all. Dean seemed to understand it, even if I didn’t. It’s all been running through my mind on a loop for days.
I still haven’t seen Dean since he ran off like a crazy person. I was tempted to keep the car and force him to come find me so he could explain his behavior, but I chickened out and returned his car to the parking lot near The Flowering Chakra like he’d ordered. I gave Harmony his keys and that was that. His car got picked up between my shifts and come Monday morning, he didn’t show up to class.
Just as we’re about to go inside our building, someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn to find Landon and dare I say it? I become giddy with excitement.
“Hey there,” Landon says, smiling his big goofy smile at me. Perhaps he’s excited to see me too. “I haven’t seen you in The Roasted Bean in a while. Are you getting your caffeine fix somewhere else?”
I laugh and give him a hug. He’s warm and smells of coffee and cologne. “Hey, yourself. I haven’t seen you in The Flowering Chakra in a while. Getting your crystal fix somewhere else?” I tease.
“You know it!”
Cora and Macy exchange a knowing look and raise their eyebrows at me.
“No, truthfully, I’ve been trying to lay off caffeine for a while. I haven’t been sleeping well, what with everything going on.”
He nods. “Ya, it’s pretty crazy.”
The silence between us grows awkward as we think about the missing girls.
“Well, I better let you go,” he says, running a hand through his blonde hair. It’s not in its usual manbun and he kinda reminds me of a guy on the cover of a romance novel. “Just wanted to say hello. I’ll see you in lab later, ya?”
“Absolutely.” I grin as he leaves and Cora and Macy pull me into our building, both gushing about how cute he is and asking when I’m going to make
a move on him. I don’t know what to say to that, I’ve never made a move on anyone, but I can feel the smile pressing against my cheeks and the blood warming my face.
If he doesn’t make a move, then I guess I’ll have to learn how.
We stroll into the lecture hall with its theater style seating and my eyes dart to the last row where Dean’s usually camped out. I ignore the quick pang of disappointment when I don’t find him. Why do I care? I’m being ridiculous. I shake off the weirdness of my fascination with Dean and I turn toward the front of the room where I like to sit.
There he is.
He’s lounging in one of the chairs like he owns the place. He raises a dark eyebrow at me before looking away, shifting his weight toward the pretty girl sitting next to him. She says something, and he laughs that wicked laugh and he’s flirting and I hate it.
Wait, what? Ugh! Stop it, Hazel!
But he’s in the front row. He’s right next to the seat I’ve been in all semester and that can’t be a coincidence. He must want to talk to me again.
Being the grown up I am, I slide into the empty chair next to him, Cora and Macy filling in the rest of the row. This is my spot after all. I don’t need to avoid Dean. My girls both shoot me odd looks but all I do is shrug at them. I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not like I have a clue what I’m doing sitting next to Dean Ashton either. They know I hate the man. I’m just not sure if I know it anymore.
He finishes up with “Pretty Girl” and turns towards me. The way he looks at me, it’s like I’m the only one in the lecture hall. Like he doesn’t hear or see the other chatting students. It’s unnerving. I’m caught in his black eyes and his intensity and his campfire woodsy scent, realizing with clarity what it is he smells like.
When I was growing up, I’d spend one glorious week at Y-Camp each summer. I loved every minute of it, from the camp songs, to the horse rides, the canoes, the hikes, the swimming, the temporary friends and heart-stopping crushes. All of it. And without fail, every single summer, there would be a night that the campfire would get rained out. We’d be sitting around it, doing our skits, or singing songs, maybe building the perfect s’more, when the thunder would roll in and the rain would spill from above. Nature would come together, blanketing everything in this wondrous scent of burning wood and thick raindrops and fresh air and perfect, perfect summer night. And everything inside of me would buzz from being alive.
