Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  Sullivan’s expression never changed as he stood, crossed the room, and opened the door. Rafferty was sure he was going to walk out but at the last minute, he turned. “I will think about the best way to tell His Highness.”

  A wave of relief hit Rafferty, and he didn’t even get the chance to thank Sullivan. His brother disappeared into the hallway, and Rafferty was so proud that he’d been brave enough to take the first step into a new future. Although he nearly told Aleksander, he wanted to wait until his entire family knew his secret, so he spent his evening reading what he could on the Council and decided to go to bed early.

  Rafferty woke up in the middle of the night and wondered what had pulled him from sleep. A second later, the door was shoved open with such force that it slammed into the wall and stuck there. Four men pushed their way inside as Rafferty struggled to sit up and, with a mounting sense of urgency, tried to figure out what was going on. With the only available light coming from behind them in the hall, it took a terrified Rafferty a moment to recognize the figures as his family.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded as they rushed in. Neil ripped the blankets that were half covering Rafferty and tossed them aside as his father advanced toward him. Rafferty opened his mouth to ask again since no one answered him, but he never got the chance. Charlton’s fist smashed into his jaw, and the air whooshed from his lungs as Sullivan landed a blow to his midsection. Nollan’s hands gripped Rafferty’s legs, keeping them in place, and Neil charged up onto the bed to hold his chest down by sitting on him.

  Realizing quickly that he needed to get away, Rafferty fought against them. When he tried to punch Neil, his brother held one arm to the bed while Sullivan grabbed the other and shoved something in his mouth, preventing him from getting any sound out. That only had him struggling harder, but his father landed another blow—this one to his temple, and it was hard enough that his ears rang. Dazed, Rafferty stopped moving long enough that it allowed Nollan to get a rope around his wrists. Once it was tied and cutting into skin, the four men he had spent his entire life with pulled and tugged until they managed to get Rafferty to his feet.

  Knocked back slightly but held in place by his brothers, Charlton punched him in the nose, and he heard a sickening crack a second before the excruciating pain hit. Rafferty was offered no time to recover as cloth was slapped onto his eyes and he was blindfolded. The scant light was gone, and Rafferty’s panic and terror grew exponentially. It was hard to breathe, his face was throbbing, and he was still gagged by whatever fabric Sullivan had forced nearly into his throat. Something was dropped over his head; then one of the four grabbed his shoulders as Rafferty was struck again and again. Deprived of his senses, Rafferty could only stand there in the darkness, hoping that all they had in mind was a beating.

  As he was struck and pain bloomed across what felt like his entire body, he nearly pitched to the floor when his feet were tied together. His head was growing fuzzy as the hits to it grew in intensity and number. Still, Rafferty continued to fight his desire to simply allow unconsciousness to take him, as he was afraid that he would never wake again if he did. There should’ve been shock that it was his own family pummeling him to near death, but there was only Rafferty’s dragon screaming for their mate. A knee slammed into his groin, and he had to fight off the need to pass out as colorful stars filled his vision.

  “Fuck this,” his father muttered, which he barely made out through the roaring in his ears after a seemingly endless nightmare of knuckles colliding with nearly every inch of him. Too weary to do anything more than accept that Sullivan had told them he was gay and that no one had taken the news well, Rafferty refused to wish he’d kept his silence. Fate had decided Rafferty was destined to be with Aleksander, and the reality that his family could not accept that filled his mind.

  Charlton had often stated that no son of his would be a homosexual, and Rafferty was flooded with sadness and horror as the inevitability of his demise became reality. Would anyone even tell Aleksander what had happened, or would he simply accept that Rafferty had tired of texting him? Without any warning, whoever was holding him let go, and a booted foot connected solidly with his back. Rafferty’s fall to the hard wooden floor finally robbed him of consciousness, and the last thought he had was of Aleksander—the man who owned his heart and who he would never see again.

  Part 2

  THE SHATTERING

  Chapter 17

  When Rafferty woke up, his first coherent thought was shock that he hadn’t died, but his joy over that revelation didn’t last long. As his senses sluggishly clicked into gear, Rafferty took stock of his body. There was pain everywhere, but that wasn’t what had his fear mounting. Although his vision was still obscured under a hood, the blindfold had been removed as well as the gag. His dragon was sluggish or refusing to acknowledge him, not giving him the escape of a shift—not that it did him any good in a moving vehicle. It wasn’t a surprise to Rafferty; they did not have a good relationship. Bound at the ankles and wrists, he heard the nearly soothing motion of the vehicle moving forward at a high speed as if on a freeway.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded, though his voice came out as a mere whisper. His mouth was dry, and he wondered how long he’d been unconscious.

  Something solid hit his midsection, and he let out an involuntary groan. Not able to heal as fast as a shifter allowed to obey their beast—and with it being four weeks since he’d taken flight—Rafferty wasn’t at peak form.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Neil shouted.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Rafferty ordered. A crushing pain filled his head, and Rafferty was unable to resist the unrelenting darkness.

  When Rafferty stirred again, he stared up at the roof of what appeared to be a van. It was dark, and the trees raced by as they zoomed toward whatever destination had been selected. Rafferty turned to the left, and the last thing he saw was a fist. At least four more times that Rafferty could recall, he roused only to be punched back into sleep. There was no way to know how many hours or days had passed with all the damage to his poor head, but when he came around, there was no movement under him nor was there the sound around him.

  Lifting his lashes and ignoring the crushing headache, he was stunned to find that he was in a small cavern. It was too dark to make out much detail—the only light was a lantern, and it illuminated thick chains bolted into the wall in front of him. They ended in manacles, which bound Rafferty’s ankles and wrists nearly to the point of pain. Forcing himself to move, Rafferty managed to sit up, and he grimaced as he glanced at himself. Even in the dim glow, the bruises and welts were unmistakable. They bloomed over vast portions of his skin, which was only covered by his boxers.

  The crunch of rock alerted him that he was no longer alone, and he scooted back against the cave as Charlton and Sullivan stalked in.

  “Look who finally woke up,” Sullivan taunted once he came to a stop next to a foldable table Rafferty hadn’t noticed. Unlike Rafferty, he was dressed impeccably and appeared to be in a chipper mood. That did nothing to lessen the fear that had seized Rafferty upon waking, and he could only wonder what was next in store for him and his battered body.

  “How are you feeling?” Charlton asked, taking Sullivan’s side. His question might have been polite, but nothing about his tone was. The dark-brown gaze of his only parent was cold as he studied Rafferty.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Rafferty demanded.

  His father snatched something off the metal surface behind him and Rafferty let out a loud yell as the sharp sting of a whip lashed his face just below his eye. “That’s the last order you will give. Do you hear me, boy?”

  Rafferty didn’t respond as Charlton struck him several more times on his arm, across his chest, and on his cheek again. Although he tried to raise his hands to defend himself, the only thing it did was increase his father’s ire as he continued to lift skin with each snap of his wrist.

  “Well, Paunchy, I figured out a way
to tell Father about your mate,” Sullivan drawled. “He didn’t take it well, but then, neither did I. Not only are you a fucking faggot, but lying to us for months? I just don’t know how you could’ve thought that would be okay. I can’t believe I’ve spent my whole life sharing a house with you. Who knows how much longer I would’ve been safe from your perversions. How many nights did you come to my room only to find the door locked? I never knew why I had such a compulsion to bar you from my space, but it seems I’ve got fine instincts. At least we finally have the answer as to why you could never bed a woman. You’ve probably been too obsessed with men. How could anyone in their right mind want to choose a man over a female?”

  Rafferty concentrated on getting air into his lungs as blood welled on his skin where his father had hit him while ignoring his brother’s stupid words. It was likely the reason he didn’t expect Sullivan to get his hands on a chain and use it to assault him. There was nothing else he could do but squeeze his eyes shut and try to hold back at least some of the screams as he was beaten. Giving up trying to protect himself, Rafferty simply waited for it to end.

  “Are you done with the orders now, boy?” Charlton snarled once Sullivan finally stopped.

  Rafferty snuck his tongue out to moisten his lips and tasted blood. “Yes.”

  Charlton cracked his palm across Rafferty’s already abused cheek. “Did you forget I have a title?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  “Now we’re going to have a little talk. Then we’re going to finish our little beating, is that understood?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Rafferty murmured, already dreading the next blow.

  “If you think I’d let any son of mine cavort with another man, you’ve lost what little sense you had, Paunchy. There is no way I will ever allow you to drag the Kestle name through the mud. I had a feeling there was something off about D’Vaire, and at least we know why he was wasting his time with you. He’s just as depraved as you are. Is that what you did down there when you begged to visit? Allowed any respect you had for the Kestle name to fall away as you climbed into bed with another man? Now, it took us a few days, but we discovered this old mine. We found a damn human to keep people away, though he doesn’t know you’re here, so don’t think you’re going to get rescued. It was hard too; these humans are nearly as noble as fallen knights, asking all kinds of questions. And I had to spend a ton of money to pay the man in whiskey.”

  Sullivan strode over and let loose a swift kick to Rafferty’s midsection, which had him sliding to the ground. “Look at His Highness when he’s talking to you, Paunchy. And sit the fuck back up.”

  “Okay,” Rafferty managed, forcing himself upward. His palms, slick with blood, slid on the dirt as he carefully righted and lay his head against the rock behind him. Woozy with agony, he refused to give in to the becoming darkness. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he faced his father.

  “I have a title,” Sullivan snapped, slashing open a cut across Rafferty’s face with a small knife he’d yanked from his front pocket. Blood sprayed, then dropped in a few thick beads onto Rafferty’s arm.

  “Now might be a good opportunity to mention you’re no longer a duke,” Charlton said. There was a growing happiness in his tone, as if he were enjoying every moment of Rafferty’s pain.

  “What did I say?” Sullivan screamed and carved into Rafferty again.

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Rafferty said, not remembering what the question was or if that was the correct response, but his brother smiled, so he supposed he’d gotten it right. Of course, his grin might be because of his pleasure in Rafferty’s pain as well. His eyes were bright with it, and since he was at crotch level, Rafferty didn’t fail to notice the bulge in his brother’s trousers. What kind of sick fucks did I grow up with, and had I ever known them for who they truly are?

  “You’re a traitor, Paunchy, and unlike that bastard Kendrick, you won’t get away with it,” Charlton stated. “Did you think you were going to waltz out of my house and cozy up with D’Vaire? Never going to happen.”

  “But we aren’t going to kill you right away,” Sullivan added.

  “No, because thanks to that idiot Kendrick, the last person we went to kill had to die quickly. Him and his damn questions about his mother when she went missing ruined our plans completely.”

  Emotional pain flooded Rafferty as he connected the dots. Charlton was talking about Molly, and it devastated him that his father had ended her life. While she’d abandoned him and not allowed him to speak to her again, he’d never forgotten the centuries of kindness Molly had bestowed on him. Rage filled him at the thought of how she met her demise as it did whenever he was reminded of standing at her funeral pyre.

  “We’re going to take months to slowly drive you out of your mind; then we’re going to finally kill you. As for High King D’Vaire…well, I’ve got your phone,” Sullivan said, waving the device around. “He’s sent you a number of texts the last few days. He wants to know why you’re ignoring him, Rafe.”

  Rafferty didn’t know why he was still surprised by anything or how his brother had gotten past the passcode on his phone, but the last thing he wanted was either of these bastards near Aleksander. “Why can’t you leave him out of this, Your Grace?”

  The whip cracked a dozen times; his father mercilessly struck him while screeching that he was never to question his betters.

  “I’m going to turn him against you when I’m ready. All I have to tell him is that you never want to speak to him again. The truth is, you won’t because you won’t make it out of here alive. That fucking dragon you liked to lord over us will be denied his mate. We might not even have to execute you because heartbreak might finish you off first,” Sullivan sneered.

  “Start talking to Kendrick again. Make sure you keep him fed with a steady stream of lies about the exciting things Paunchy is up to now that he’s moved past D’Vaire.”

  Sullivan’s laughter was a horrible, grating sound to Rafferty’s ears. Wanting to scream, yell, beg, plead, or whatever it took to get away, he knew it was useless. They were going to do exactly as they planned. Doomed with no way out, his dragon let out a wailing sound in his head.

  “You know, I think we might have to get Paunchy out on the dating scene,” Sullivan teased. “I’m sure D’Vaire will love to hear about his exploits.”

  Tears skated down Rafferty’s cheeks, and it only caused more pain as he thought about Aleksander reacting to hearing about his supposed actions.

  “Look at that,” Charlton mused. “We made his fat ass cry.”

  His brother slashed the chain across his chest before Rafferty could raise his throbbing and bleeding arms to block it. “Knock that off.”

  It was impossible to hold in his emotions, so Rafferty endured the bite of the metal into his skin as he was beaten until he grew woozy, and the weeping finally ended when he lacked the energy to continue.

  “Well, you wanted to lose weight,” his father taunted, tossing a bowl near Rafferty’s feet. Half of the oatmeal sloshed out and onto the ground. “You’re going to have every opportunity to get skinny. That’s all you get to eat until one of us returns in a few days. I suggest you take your time. Of course, you won’t be awake for much of it anyway.”

  Both father and son cackled as they went back to using their instruments of torture to hurt Rafferty. As promised, they slashed and struck him until once again Rafferty could no longer fight the pull of the darkness. A mourning roar full of grief echoed through his skull while agony ripped through his chest as he surrendered. There was no way for him to know if he would ever wake. His last thought was of Aleksander and how foolish he’d been to ever leave D’Vaire.

  Chapter 18

  Aleksander sat heavily on a barstool and Noirin offered him a sad smile. “Still no word from Rafferty?”

  “No, it’s been a week. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I was afraid something like this was going to happen. My mother kept me away f
rom my father and brothers for a reason. I’m not sure we can trust any of them,” Kendrick offered apologetically.

  “Have you talked to Duke Sullivan?”

  Kendrick nodded. “Yeah, a bit. I asked him about Rafferty, and he assured me that as far as he knows, nothing is going on. Rafferty’s home and acting perfectly normal. He has no idea why he’s not contacting you.”

  “You mind giving me his number? I don’t want to put you in the middle, but I really want to know if Duke Sullivan would be willing to ask Rafe directly what the deal is. I know they’re good friends.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Kendrick responded and gave Aleksander Sullivan’s information. “Just be careful, okay? These guys play by their own set of rules. That’s why I left.”

  “I’ll admit I wasn’t too impressed with Duke Sullivan, but Rafe and I have texted since the day we met.”

  “Sullivan’s the only one who has ever been kind to me,” Kendrick argued. “Even when Rafferty’s here, he barely looks me in the eye.”

  Not willing to get into an argument over Rafferty, Aleksander stood. “I appreciate your help and the advice,” he told Kendrick as he left the kitchen.

  When he got to his office, he found Worth at the desk that Aleksander hoped would someday be Rafferty’s. “Hey.”

  “From that frown on my face, I’d say you still haven’t heard from your mate.”

  “It’s my face, not yours. I was born first.”

  “And that tone confirms it. You tried to call?”