“You always were father’s favorite. Even being such a disappointment, he wanted to give you the throne and how did you repay him? You stabbed him in the back. You murdered him and betrayed your entire kingdom.”
“I did what was needed. You may have idolized him, but I have no regrets about my actions.”
Arlen meant every word of it. He’d grown to hate his father, especially after everything he’d done. He’d grown sick and the disease which racked his mind almost destroyed the Fae. It had torn apart their family in every way possible.
Lorik’s lip lifted in a snarl and his eyes shone with pure hatred. He didn’t respond right away, at least not to Arlen. He muttered quietly to himself. A muscle jumped near his eye making him blink a few times in quick succession. Oh yeah, he was erratic alright.
“How did you manage to seize the crown away from Raynor? Father’s second should have taken over.”
Lorik nodded to Brokk, who signaled to the other guards. One by one, Brokk included, they filed out of the throne room leaving the pair of men alone.
Arlen had managed to stay hidden for almost seventy years. Even knowing he’d one day have to face what he’d done, it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. He’d found his chosen one just to lose her again. Fate had a twisted sense of humor. Although, she’d also thought it would be funny to place a man on the throne who by the very circumstances of his birth, was forbidden from ever being able to ascend. The irony of it all was not lost on him.
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Lorik asked teasingly.
Arlen didn’t respond so he continued anyway.
“My mother knew she’d be killed, planned for it even. Her spies were all over the castle when she came to Father. That’s how she wasn’t detected. The Queen was kept occupied while she did what was needed. You see she always knew one day I’d be the ruler of these lands. You were stupid enough to play into my hands perfectly.”
Lorik picked the sword up from its perch next to the throne. He passed it back and forth between his hands assessing the weight and balance of the blade. It was a family heirloom which had hung on the wall for as long as Arlen could remember, likely for hundreds of years before his birth.
The sword was storied to have defeated the Goblin King at the Battle of Water’s Edge by Arlen’s great grandfather, King Marek the Honorable. His hands were bound behind his back, leaving him helpless to fight back. Lorik would run him through like he’d done to their father and there wasn’t much Arlen could do to stop it.
Lorik held the blade to Arlen’s throat, the cold steel biting into his skin. The pressure increased and he could tell the moment it broke skin. He felt the trickle of blood dripping down his neck.
“Why don’t you just do it and get it over with?” Arlen growled. He hated games.
“That would be too easy, wouldn’t it? You should suffer for your crimes,” he spat, withdrawing the blade from Arlen’s neck. He backed away from Arlen a few steps.
Arlen seized the chance and rose to his feet. At least from there he’d have some sort of chance at fighting back. Lorik had no guards to defend him should Arlen decide to end the mad man before any more damage could be done.
“Maybe something a little more public should be in order. I’m sure the people would like to see the man who killed their King brought to justice.”
“You know nothing and your high praises of him only cement that. He was no longer the man he’d once been and he had to be stopped before he watched the world burn at his feet.”
He couldn’t take Lorik’s blind adoration of their father anymore. He hadn’t been there that night. Lorik hadn’t watched as their father had beaten Liliana to death because he thought she was conspiring to take his throne. She’d refused and he’d beaten her until she’d confessed, yet even when she did, he was convinced she was hiding things from him. Lorik hadn’t had to discover his mother’s lifeless body after she’d committed suicide. She couldn’t keep living after watching the madness eat away at her love’s mind until he trusted no one, not even her. But the final straw had been watching her husband murder their only daughter. She had taken her own life in one fell swoop.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I was there that night, watching. Who do you think was there whispering in his ear that you were going to kill him and piece by piece dismantle every single thing he’d built over his lifetime?”
Lorik had been behind it? Arlen reeled at the confession. Had his father lost his mind at all or was it just the effects of repeated suggestions? The truth likely lay somewhere in the middle. He couldn’t understand why Lorik would have wanted to kill innocent people who’d never wronged him. His family hadn’t cast him out or condemned him along with his mother. Fury boiled inside him. Lorik was solely to blame for the pain and suffering of Arlen’s family. For Liliana. For his mother and father.
Without another thought, Arlen kicked out his leg in an almost perfect roundhouse and connected with the side of Lorik’s face before the maggot had a chance to respond. The impact made a loud crack causing him to stagger backwards in shock. Crimson trickled from Lorik’s nose and his lip had a small split in it that was welling up with a drop of blood. Just the sight gave Arlen a small sense of satisfaction. He deserved a hell of a lot worse, but it would have to be enough for the moment. Lorik regarded the blade and examined the sharpness of it as he ran a thumb over the blade.
Lorik spat on the floor and wiped at his face. Instead of being angry, he was calm and collected. He stepped towards Arlen with sword in hand. Instead of running him through, Lorik dropped the blade and withdrew a small dagger from his waist.
He made his way around Arlen, trying to get behind him, but Arlen was too quick. The pair circled each other while they searched for weaknesses and waited for their chance to strike. Lorik made a quick swipe of his blade towards Arlen’s exposed belly. Arlen dodged it, but only barely. It seemed that Lorik had been paying close attention to his training. He’d gotten quick and agile, but Arlen was born a fighter. He’d made sure over the years to keep up on his training. It had come in handy in his line of work.
“What happened to giving the people what they crave? Public trial and all,” Arlen countered taking a swipe at Lorik’s leg.
He evaded the strike narrowly.
“Sometimes an opportunity is just too good to pass up.”
Before either could make another move, they heard yelling from outside the throne room. It was a voice Arlen recognized instantly.
Brokk and Zeke charged into the throne room, forcing Lorik to temporarily abandon his pursuit. He sheathed the dagger and gave the pair his full attention. Lorik never gave Arlen his back or allowed him out of his sight. Between the guards, they carried precious cargo, something that made Arlen’s blood turn to ice in his veins. He damn near choked on his heart when it jumped into his throat. The two Fae carried Angela in between them.
He tried not to react, but it was hopeless. They already knew how much she meant to him. Brokk had been watching his every move. If Brokk knew, Lorik knew. That was how Fae loyalty worked. It ran old and deep.
She didn’t appear to be harmed, but she was scared and that was enough to make Arlen want to tear out their innards through their mouths. He clenched his fists. It was his only physical reaction. However, it was enough to catch Lorik’s attention.
“Ah, now who would this gem be? Couldn’t possibly be Arlen finally found his mate, could it?” His tone was mocking, yet his interest had been piqued.
Lorik stepped up to Angela and grasped her chin between his thumb and index finger, inspecting her closely. It was far too close for comfort as far as Arlen was concerned.
“A human? Really, bro? Your own species wasn’t good enough for you? Or wait, I know, none of our women could stand to be associated with a traitor and a murderer. Yeah, that has to be it.”
There was nothing more that Lorik could say that would hurt Arlen. It’d been a long time since Arlen had cared what his people had thou
ght of him. Those feelings died right along with the rest of his family.
By rights, Arlen would have inherited the crown. Lorik was a bastard and barred from the line of succession. Without any other heirs, Raynor, the King’s second in command, should have ascended to the throne. However, Arlen hadn’t seen a single trace of the man. Lorik probably killed him as soon as he could. He was a snake who’d have gotten rid of anyone standing between him and whatever it was he wanted.
That part was fine with Arlen; Lorik could have the crown just so long as Arlen was left in peace.
“You know what they say about true mates, don’t you brother?” Lorik’s voice held an excitement that put Arlen on edge.
Angie was smart, she stayed quiet and didn’t struggle against her captors. They’d hurt her if she did and escape would be near impossible.
“What about you, Brokk? Have you heard the secret of the true mate bond?”
Brokk shrugged, disinterested in the games being played.
“If you kill one, the other would follow soon after in the most unpleasant way imaginable. They’d suffer in agony before meeting their end. Something to keep in mind gentlemen, it could come in handy when trying to conquer your enemies.”
It took every bit of his resolve to keep himself from striking out against Lorik for threatening Angela. He knew completing their bond was a bad idea, but then understanding the fate he’d sealed for his woman, he hated himself. He’d done this to her and now there was no going back.
Arlen wasn’t the type to give up, not by a long shot, especially not when his woman’s life depended on his success. She needed him just as much as he’d grown to need her. There was a small detail that he’d slowly come to realize since becoming Lorik’s guest.
Arlen was the last person standing between Lorik and the rest of his reign. Arlen, despite what the people might have thought of him, was the rightful heir to the throne. He was the threat Lorik could have to being King with any hope of longevity. It also meant that Arlen knew exactly where he could strike to hurt Lorik the most. If he could stay alive long enough, taking the throne would cripple Lorik and those who might have become loyal to the bastard. Lorik would die before he allowed such a thing and that was exactly what Arlen was banking on. He’d kill the motherfucker before he could hurt another soul.
“Well, it look’s like we’ve found Prince Arlen’s weak spot, eh, Zeke? Bet he’d do just about anything for the bitch, too.” Brokk chuckled, glancing at his partner.
Angie’s head swung around and gaped at her captor with a profound expression of bewilderment. She peered back and forth at the two men, trying to understand their meaning. Arlen could hear her thoughts as they ran through her mind in a flash. Their bond was a strong one.
“It’ll be okay, a’maelamin. I won’t let anything happen to you. I give you my word.”
She met his eyes as soon as he’d begun speaking to her through their bond. Her shoulders dropped slightly with relief, but the confusion remained.
Arlen knew why Angie was confused. He hadn’t explained his station as the Prince of the Fae and the rightful heir to a throne he didn’t want. It hadn’t been a part of his life for the better part of a century and a tiny part of him wanted her to love him for himself and not his title or who he could be one day. He’d grown up around ambitious women, like Caressia who wanted the notoriety and prestige that accompanied the crown. Arlen was just their ticket to the top.
“I trust you.”
The single sentence gave him more purpose than he’d known in years. Her trust was as precious as the rarest diamond and he’d never let her down again.
“Ar, what are they talking about? Why are they calling you Prince Arlen?”
He almost missed the fire in her eyes when she asked. Angela could have easily asked him much more privately, but she hadn’t. She didn’t even look that surprised. He’d bet his favorite appendage that she was planning something. He’d play along with whatever she had up her sleeve.
“I’m so sorry, my love. I never meant for you to find out like this.”
Lorik watched the scene unfold before him silently, always the studious observer. Arlen hoped like hell his brother was believing the charade. Their lives depended upon it.
“My liege, there’s more,” Brokk said to Lorik, his head bowed in respect.
The King nodded, indicating he continue.
“She has the sight, my lord. I saw her with my own eyes. It was unmistakable.”
The bottom dropped out of Arlen’s stomach. He hadn’t thought anything of it before that moment. There were storied told when he was a boy of a woman who’d be able to see beyond the current moment into the past or the future. She’d belong to a Prince and together, they’d lift the Fae to glory. They thought Angela was the Seer who was foretold. Lorik believed it. His mate had no idea just how much danger she was in.
Arlen stepped forward, wanting to shield Angela from the growing fascination on Lorik’s face. Zeke jerked him back, not letting him move more than a foot. Fear and rage tangled in his belly. All he cared about was getting his mate out of harm’s way. He tried to shrug out of Zeke’s reach, but Brokk was there to keep him restrained. Brokk was a very large man, one Arlen couldn’t easily overpower. With a quick tug, Brokk turned Arlen enough to take a clear shot. The last thing Arlen saw was Brokk’s large fist barreling towards him. The punch collided with his temple and immediately it was lights out.
Chapter 19
Angie
“Arlen!” Angie screamed, wanting to gather the man into her lap and make sure he was okay.
Her captor ignored her outburst. Lorik circled her like a predator.
“A Seer it would seem. Interesting.”
She understood his fascination with her almost immediately. The curse of seeing the things she did could be considered a gift to others. She imagined him using her to foretell battles or worse. Angie couldn’t stomach it. She’d never help him.
Lorik stopped next to her and brushed her hair away from her face. She recoiled at his touch. The man made her skin crawl. Something in her gut said the shadows clung to him for a reason and whatever those reasons may be, they weren’t good.
“Feisty. I like that. We’ll get along just fine once you learn your place, we’ll have so much fun breaking you.”
His touch followed her even though she’d made it clear it wasn’t welcomed. Arlen still lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. For his sake, she hoped he hadn’t regained consciousness yet. Lorik caressing her like this would kill Arlen or he’d go mad and do something which would get him killed.
Bile rose in her throat as he traced his fingers down her neck and across her collarbone. A growl from where Arlen was restrained grabbed both of their attention. Lorik didn’t seem to be too worried by him, nor did he put a halt to his featherlight exploration. She regretted wearing the low cut v-neck more than anything in that moment.
Arlen rolled on to his back with a groan as he tested his eyes out for the first time since he’d been knocked out. He squinted at the lights above. It only took a second for him to feel eyes on him and realize he wasn’t alone. With his arms still bound behind him, he jumped to his feet and rounded on Lorik. Seeing the way he moved, there was no mistaking he wasn’t human. Brokk snagged his binding and pulled him back roughly, but kept him facing the King. Lorik had Angie frozen under his forced contact. She wanted to scream and lash out, but she knew better. If he pawed at her any more though, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t throw up all over the dick weed.
“Thanks for joining us, Arlen. Though, I’m afraid we wont be sticking around to chat. We have so many plans that need to be laid for the both of you,” he declared, dropping his hand from where it had come to a stop at the beginning of her cleavage.
“We?” Angie questioned.
Wasn’t she going to be left with Arlen? Dread pooled in her chest. If the pair were separated, there was a chance they wouldn’t see each other again. They needed to stick together.
“Oh yes, dear. You are coming with me.”
She sought out her mate for help despite knowing there wasn’t anything he could do, not right at that moment. They had to be smart about it. They could kill Lorik and be done with it, but he had a whole nation and army behind him. There would be no winning that battle, no matter how skilled Arlen was in combat.
“It’ll be okay. Remain calm and whatever you do, don’t fight him. I’m not saying not to defend yourself if you need it, but use caution. He’s not a man to trifle with. I will come for you, just stay safe.”
His words gave her hope. He’d never let her down yet and she doubted he ever would. Not if he could help it, or gods forbid, something happened to him.
Lorik tugged her along through the winding hallways of his home while the lankier guard stayed behind her. She tried to pay close attention to the turns they were taking. If she was to have any hope of escape, she needed to know the way like the back of her hand to prevent missteps. Mistakes could ruin everything.
The castle had been Arlen’s home when he was young. He’d run the halls and caused all sorts of mayhem, she was sure. Arlen was also the perfect person to get them out of the mess. He likely knew of every nook and cranny. She could fumble her way out eventually, but she’d likely get caught first. Arlen was her best chance.
She returned her attention to him as he made his way towards their destination. Lorik padded silently ahead of her. His movements were quieted by the carpet running down the corridors middle. His back was perfectly straight and his frame was slimmer than Arlen’s without being sickly.
He came to a stop in front of a pair of double doors. Angie almost ran into his back, but she caught herself before she made contact.
“You will be staying here for the time being. My room is the next one down the hall,” he said very matter of factly and without emotions. With a jerky nod, he turned and started back the way we’d come.
“Where are you going?” Angie asked after him.
Lorik stopped and peeked over his shoulder. He answered her as if it were as easy as swatting an annoying fly away.
Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3) Page 13
