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Mark of Truth (Wicked Kingdoms Book 1)

Page 16

by Graceley Knox


  “Out!” Dare barks, pointing toward the door.

  Dax relaxes and looks back toward me. I’m now sitting up on my knees in the center of the bed, the sheet covering everything but my shoulders and head. If only this bed could swallow me whole.

  “Thank Dhia!” Dax looks at us.

  Dare isn’t bothering to cover himself, and I’m afraid to move for fear of flashing something I don’t want Dax to see more of.

  “I thought you might have been in trouble. I guess not.” Dax sniggers.

  “Dhia will not help you if you do not. Get. Out!” Dare takes a step toward Dax, his neck corded and his muscles straining against his skin.

  Dax quickly moves toward the door. “I’ll just be outside then,” he yells over his shoulder. He stops at the threshold and winks at me before closing the door firmly behind him.

  I try not to laugh at the absurdity of it all and look to Dare. He’s breathing fast and shaking. He clenches and unclenches his fists, and his face and neck are flushed a dark shade of red.

  “Hey,” I whisper as I get down off the bed, the sheet trailing behind me. I rub my hand over his bicep. “No big deal, it’s not like he saw me spread wide or something.”

  His eyes go wide, his nostrils flare, and he bares his teeth.

  “I’ll kill him.” A menacing growl rips from him and he starts toward the door.

  Shit. Dax probably saw something before I was able to cover up. And I had just reminded Dare of that. I stand in front of him and put my hands on his chest and try to soothe him.

  “It’s okay. I’m still in here with you. Right here.” I smooth my hands over his puffed up chest as he breathes hard, still glaring at the closed door.

  “You’re mine,” he says gruffly, gripping my hip.

  I nod and decide not to correct him if it will help him calm down. I’ve heard goblins can get possessive after sex, but Goddess, we’ve only slept together twice. It isn’t like he’s known me for years and we’ve talked about our future together. I rub at his chest and let him work through whatever is going through his head.

  “How about you go get dressed for the day and we can meet up wherever you get breakfast around this castle?” I smile calmly at him, my hands still on his chest.

  He shakes his head as if he’s coming out a bit of a daze and he squeezes my hip before letting go. “Five minutes and I will meet you right here.” He points to the ground.

  It isn’t a statement. It isn’t even a question with an option attached to it. It’s a demand.

  “Let’s see what’s up before we make any plans, okay?”

  He scowls down at me from his greater height before he walks to the door leading into the room next to mine.

  “That’s Arela’s room, Dare. Might want to go through the hallway. We aren’t exactly in the royal wing of the castle last I checked.” I chuckle.

  Oy, either he hasn’t been laid in a while, and I’ve scrambled his wits or something else is going on here.

  “You okay, Dare?”

  He faces me. “I will be. I need some answers though.” He turns and continues to the door leading to the room next to mine. “Oh, and by the way? You are in the royal wing of the castle. And Arela’s rooms are on that side.” He points to the door on the opposite side of the room.

  I gape at him but can’t get a coherent sentence out before he shuts the door with a soft click behind him. In the royal wing? What the hell? Last I checked none of us are royal. I mean, my mother is, but I’m not. I’m leath cine, so I’m automatically excluded from any special titles.

  I stride to the door Dax came through and whip it open, knocking Dax on his ass in the process. He’s sprawled on the ground, a mixture of a wince and a smile on his face.

  I shake my head. “Listening at the door? Really, Dax? Really?”

  He turns a slight shade of pink. “I…was…”

  “Save it. Come with me. I’ve got questions, and you’re damn well gonna answer them.”

  I leave the door open and grab a fresh set of clothes to change into. I have no idea what I’m going to come up against today, so I decide to go with warrior chic—black jeans, black V-neck T-shirt, and of course my combat boots. I root around in my bag for a pair of underwear but instead my hand grazes leather. I pull out my favorite belt. It’s the one with a special pouch hanging from it that has another strap to go around my thigh. Score! I can keep a few extra things on me besides weapons. I step behind the standing partition in my room and dress quickly while I question Dax.

  “First off, what did you hear? And second, what did you want when you so rudely threw the door open while I was lounging naked in bed?” I pop my head out from behind the partition and narrow my eyes at him. “And don’t say you didn’t see anything. We all know you did.”

  “I heard two voices, not much of what was said. I did hear the word shower though.” He grins. “And I was coming to tell you that your fath—Tore would like to finally meet you.”

  “Oh, he would like to finally meet me,” I mimic. “And where has he been the past two days? Sorry, Dax.” I huff a breath, my mind a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. On top of everything else, I might meet my father. I dreamed about this day for years until I gave up when my mother told me she’d never tell me who he was. “Not your fault. Just a touchy subject for me, ya know?”

  Dax nods and his eyes soften around the corners. It isn’t a look of pity. I won’t accept anyone’s pity. It’s a look of understanding.

  “He was away on business for the crown and all that shit.” He waves a hand around.

  I roll my eyes at Dax’s lack of interest in politics and finish lacing up my boots. Dax frowns as I fervently scrutinize the floor.

  “Hair tie. I lost my hair tie.” I shove the mass of long curls out of my face for the third time now and continue my search. If I didn’t love my hair so much when it isn’t being a pain my ass, I’d chop it all off. “Ha! I gotcha!” I swoop down to grab the small circle of elastic wrapped in thread.

  Dare once again opens the door between our two rooms.

  He tilts his head, his eyes zeroing in on Dax lounging on the rumpled bed. The bed where, not twenty minutes before, we were doing the mattress mamba. Dare frowns and puts his hands on his hips before turning his frown back to me.

  I shrug before I flip my mass of hair over my head and gather it all, securing it tightly in a ponytail. Silence falls, and I rock back and forth on my heels. “I guess we should go meet Tore then.”

  I step through the door. Doyle and Kirin are heading my way. Eryn is stopped at Arela’s door and farther down the hall Axel is exiting his own room. I give them all a brief rundown of what’s going to happen next.

  Dare steps close behind me, crowding me with his larger body, while I fill everyone in on the details.

  “I know we’ve got a lot going on, but I need to eat some breakfast before we do any meet and greets with my would-be father. And coffee. I need coffee.”

  Trolls don’t have shit on my temper when I’m left under-caffeinated for long periods of time. Considering the cardio workout I got last night and again this morning, I’m in serious need of nourishment if I’m going to handle meeting my dear old dad for the first time.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  After another series of “my war stories are bigger and better than yours” at breakfast, we’re all congregated in the great hall. We’re all a bit anxious. None of us can keep still. I mentally take a tab of everyone to keep myself from pacing.

  Axel, Eryn, and Kirin are circled up talking amongst themselves. Arela is off to Goblin School, as I’m calling it, and Anarchy and Chaos are playing with my belt, occasionally jumping from me to Doyle. Both of us are loaded with weapons that make great landing points for them. Dare and his brothers claim that Goblin will welcome all leath cine, even if they aren’t half goblin. I still have my doubts, considering the Queen’s less than warm welcome. Either way, we’re being overly cautious.


  Axel’s head suddenly snaps in the direction of the massive staircase leading into the heart of the castle. His reaction gives me enough time to school my expression—calm, cool, and collected on the outside and a mass of jumbled emotions on the inside. I keep my eyes trained on the figures appearing at the top of the stairs.

  At first I only see two pairs of boots start down the stair case. They pause for a moment at the top and I keep my eyes peeled for what’s to follow as they descend farther.

  Kirin scoffs at the dramatic gesture, rolling his eyes. I give him a wry smile and focus my attention on those that I haven’t met yet. Standing next to King Teag is a stout and burly looking goblin, the jeweled seal on his upper chest indicating his high rank.

  This must be Tore MacDouglas. Half goblin, half elf, previous King of Goblin’s only surviving son and, supposedly, my father. The only indication that he is in any way elven is the color of his eyes—cyan blue and violet, just like mine. The purple surrounding his irises is just a shade darker than my own but other than that small detail, our eyes are the same. The realization knocks the breath out of me. I keep my expression calm and take a moment to asses my feelings. The waves of emotions battering my insides chip away at the wall I erected as a child to protect myself from disappointment from my parents.

  Happiness that I might finally be meeting my father. Doubt that he is my father. Resentment that he’d left me alone all these years. Anger that he hasn’t tried to look for me, and finally, curiosity at the type of man he is. Is he a good man? Does he keep his word, or does he twist his words like a politician? Does it matter either way? I hold few illusions of a happy reunion of a long lost father and daughter. I gave those up around the age of ten when one of the older kids at MECA found me crying in a dark corner of the compound. Brutally honest and gentle at the same time, she told me what to expect as I grew up, or what not to expect from my parents.

  As their boots hit the last step, I stand my ground, shoulders back. My focus snaps back to what’s in front of me. I take in every little detail of Tore’s appearance.

  He’s massive. His giant arms hang loosely by his sides and his face is set in a neutral expression. He has laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and a few runes marking what I can see of his forearms left bare by his shirt. His hair is a deep red—the deep red of clay bricks. So dark it looks almost deep brown until the sun shining through the stained glass windows high above us in the main hall hits the strands. Grudgingly, I admit that it would explain where I get the red hair from and the eyes too, but all of that can be glamoured. Usually I can tell if someone is holding a glamour if I’m able to get close enough to them. If he really is my father, some of my abilities could be similar to his, and he could be shielding hard enough that even I can’t detect it.

  I make a mental note to try and figure out what his abilities might be in the future, and I finally let my eyes meet his. I raise one brow, hoping it will distract him from our stale mate of locked gazes. It doesn’t. Instead he raises his own at the same time.

  His sudden booming laughter makes me jump. He breaks our staring contest and starts forward, his arms held open slightly at his sides, his palms facing me. If he was expecting a hug, he doesn’t let his disappointment show as I thrust my hand out between us, the motion halting his progress and keeping him at arm’s length.

  He takes my smaller hand in his.

  “As you may have already guessed, I’m Tore MacDouglas. And you must be Ever. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, Ever.”

  “That would be me. Ever Leath. Behind me you’ve got Doyle, Eryn, Kirin, and Axel, who you might remember as he was in Goblin until he was about age ten or so.”

  Tore wears a jovial smile on his face as he nods at each of them. His posture remains relaxed as he takes his time looking us all over.

  I don’t bother to turn around as Dare comes up behind me, his presence blanketing me. He’s close enough that if I twitch my hand slightly I can touch him, but not so close that it’ll raise any suspicions among the onlookers.

  He asks me the million-dollar question.

  “Convinced now, little álainn?”

  I turn and bare my teeth in a semblance of a smile. “You’re joking, right?”

  His smirk turns to a frown and he scratches his eyebrow.

  “Anyone could glamour eyes like mine if they have the capabilities. I’m not going to just assume that because he wears a smile—”

  “Nor would I expect you to take who I am at face value.” Tore presses his lips together, keeping eye contact with me when I turn back to him. “I’ve heard of what happened within the Light Elven Kingdom. Come. Let’s talk about this matter and get down to the bottom of it.” He waves us forward and starts toward the now cleared giant table we had all eaten breakfast on.

  Something in his tone makes me think that what he suggested is a good idea. The instant feeling of trust makes me wary of him, and my hackles rise. I can make people see things like they’re right in front of them. What if Tore can make me do something with a suggestion? I shake my head and walk over to the table, determined to keep an open mind, but also just as determined to keep my hopes to a minimum.

  Kirin and Doyle snag us seats with the wall to our backs so we can focus on what’s in front of us. Even though they said goblins are friendly to us, my crew and I have learned to not take people’s word at face value, not until they’ve proven to us that they can be trustworthy. The rest of us take seats, while Doyle and Kirin lean against the wall. Both cross their arms over their chests.

  With a wave of his hand, Tore tells the royal guards to stand down. Instantly their hands are no longer hovering over the pommels of their swords hanging from their belts.

  “How about some cider for the table?” Tore directs the question at one of the guards who walks off to do as he’s asked. We all nod.

  Tore exchanges a look with King Teag. “Let’s start from the beginning shall we?”

  I roll my eyes. I’m sick of court niceties. I want to get down to the dirty details. “Yes, why don’t we start at the beginning?” I smile, showing all my teeth and hardening my gaze. “How long have you known about me?”

  “I’ve known you existed for fifteen years.”

  Before I can cut him off with more questions, he raises his hands in front of him defensively.

  “And I have been searching for you since the moment I found out I might have a daughter.”

  “Explain.” I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the tight feeling behind my ribs where my heart is located.

  “After our brief period of no longer allowing elves into our kingdom, we had a few visits from the high elves and members of the extended Light Elven royal family. During one of those times, I was with your mother.”

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head and he turns a slight shade of red. I snicker at his discomfort and motion for him to continue.

  “We were together once, and then she left. I heard nothing of her again until an exiled maid came to us. She was once a maid in your mother’s house.” Pausing, he takes a sip of cider from his silver goblet, his giant hand dwarfing the cup. “When I asked about her, the maid froze and wouldn’t give me any information at first. I kept trying to get her to talk, not sure why she was reluctant to tell me about your mother’s wellbeing. Then the maid told me that your mother had had a child and sent her to live with MECA. I had no idea it was even possible. It had been ten years since I had seen your mother. The maid told me it was quite the scandal, as your mother wouldn’t give the father’s name and there were no rumors of who she was with before or after her visit to Goblin.”

  The appearance of Anarchy and Chaos on the table make Tore pause. The little gargoyles creep toward the bowl the thoughtful maid left for them. It is filled with some cloudy white liquid which I assume is safe for them or Dare would have removed it when it appeared. Their little forked tongues snake out and take a taste of the liquid. At their delighted noises, we turn our attent
ion back to the story at hand, the mood considerably lighter than before.

  “As I was saying.” Tore clears his throat. “At her mention of Callista’s visit to Goblin, I got to thinking and sent a letter to your mother. I received one back telling me to never speak of the babe again. From there, I was determined to find you. I had to know if you were mine.”

  I nod and try to wrap my mind around the entire situation. “So I might not be your daughter. The only one who can confirm that, without a doubt, is my mother?”

  “Aye, she’s the only one who can tell us. But I think we might already know the answer to our question.” His eyes are kind as they meet mine, and his lips tilt up in a small smile.

  “I wish I could accept that answer, but I need proof. And until I can safely talk to my mother, I don’t know whether you are my father.” I grew up dreaming about what meeting my father would be like. I’ve been disappointed too many times to accept his conclusions at face value. I need my mother to confirm it. And to do that, to build a relationship with the man who may have fathered me, I have to sort out all the shit happening over in the Light Elven Kingdom. I turn my attention to Dare and steer us away from the subject of my parentage, pushing my feelings away for the moment.

  “What do we know about the shit storm happening in the Light Elven Kingdom? About Cashel? Was anyone able to contact my uncle?” If I’ve learned anything from him so far, it’s that he’s brutally honest, and a situation like this calls for that type of honesty.

  “We sent messages to your uncle as soon as we arrived. They were for his eyes only and were not to be given to anyone but him per your request. As for Cashel’s whereabouts, we are unable to find him at the moment, but the letters included what happened and we should know more soon,” Dare replies.

  Nodding my thanks at him, I look around the table. Two weeks ago if someone had told me I would be sitting at a large wooden table in the Goblin Kingdom with the King of Goblin, his advisor, three of his sons, a few dozen guards, and my crew, I would have spit my drink out laughing. Now it’s my reality. As far as predicaments go, this one isn’t so bad.

 

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