by Rachel Jonas
He was definitely challenging me. I hadn’t imagined it. Or maybe it was a threat—a warning to keep my distance from her.
I didn’t look away and neither did he. It was Chris who caught it and leaned in to whispered to calm me down.
“Chill, man. I know you don’t like this dude and I get it, but you have to let that go for now. We’re stuck in here for two hours a day for the next two weeks,” he reminded me. “Find a way to deal with it.”
Sometime last week, I ended up telling him and Lucas everything. Well, almost everything—the part concerning Evie and I breaking up, but I’d only confuse them with talk of being the Liberator and how she fit into that. They were aware, however, of what role Liam played. Not willing to give up Evie’s secret—that she’d lived before—I had to explain it in terms of Liam being an ex, someone who resurfaced from her past. They were on my side, of course, but Chris was right. I couldn’t get out of this session, so I’d have to find a way to deal.
The first step was being the one to end the stare-down between us. It didn’t mean he intimidated me. It meant I was trying to get through this without hurting him.
Not long after my eyes left him and focused elsewhere, he went on about his business.
“I’ll start by addressing the elephant in the room. I’m sure it’s been strange sitting in classrooms and training under shifters who don’t look any older than you do. So, this will be one of the many things we’ll go over during the course of the two weeks you’re here with me. And anything we don’t cover this time, we’ll get to in the next module.” He smiled a bit and, behind me, two girls started whispering.
“I didn’t catch a single word he said. Did you?” one asked quietly.
“Nope,” the other whispered. “I was completely blinded by his hotness.” They laughed quietly, but I wasn’t amused.
The guy was average at best. To me, he looked like a barbarian in need of a haircut and a shave. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought someone let him in by accident.
“I’ll mostly focus on our history—that of both lycans and dragons. I’m sure many of you have already realized there’s an underlying tension that exists between the two, and one of this facility’s goals is to eliminate it. Especially seeing as how, much of it is the result of misguided prejudices, skewed eyewitness accounts, and greatly exaggerated rumors. As a dragon, myself, I can attest to the fact that there is an element of unpredictability that exists within my species, but I’ve also known lycans who operate somewhat erratically as well.”
He looked at me and I felt my nostrils flare as air rushed in and out of my lungs.
He scanned the class again as he slowly paced from one end of the room to the other. “One of the main things we’ve been advised to stress to you all is the power of self-control. That’ll go a long way as you come into the knowledge of your abilities.”
He stopped at the center of the room and, before speaking again, he smiled a bit, rubbing his hand over the scruff on his chin.
“I’m gonna level with you guys; I’m not a teacher, nor have I ever had the desire to be one,” he shared. “Actually, based on some choices I made back in the day, I’m pretty sure I have no business whatsoever being given the power to influence our younger generations.”
Others in the room laughed at his admission—mostly girls giggling, probably hoping to stand out and catch his attention.
“But I came here for a couple different reasons,” he went on. “As a secondary assignment to my priority, I was asked to share what I know with all of you. I wasn’t chosen to focus on history because I’m an avid reader or some scholar who’s made it his life’s work to study the wars our ancestors fought—some against each other, some within our own races. I was chosen to stand before you today because … I fought in many of those wars.”
Several around the room began to whisper and several others raised their hands. Liam called on a kid off to my left and she stood to ask her question.
“But … there hasn’t been a war in over five hundred years and most were futile, ending with many on both sides dead.”
Liam nodded. “Five-hundred-fifty-seven years to be exact.” His response prompted the girl to slowly take her seat before he finished his thought. “And by that time, I was already pushing three-hundred-fifty.”
There was more whispering. Even Chris and Lucas shared a look. I think we were all under the impression that mostly only The Sovereign’s closest allies, members of the Council, High Council, and the Elders were that far up in age.
“And to address the second part of your statement regarding both sides being diminished quite a bit, you’re right.” He paused, but continued to pace as he watched the floor beneath his feet. “While I was lucky enough to come through it unscathed, the last war was definitely a loss for those of us trying to maintain order.”
He looked up again. “Does anyone know the name of that particular battle?”
Only two hands went up and I was surprised to see that many. But what didn’t surprise me was that Beth was one of them. He pointed to her.
“The Lunar War—the single, bloodiest war in lycan history, fought in a single night beneath the light of a full moon,” she answered, but, from the look on her face, she seemed to be confused. “I don’t understand, though. That battle had nothing to do with dragons.”
Liam’s expression shifted, bordering on dark. “You’re right. It had absolutely nothing to do with dragons … but it did, however, have everything to do with my family.”
“So … if you fought for the side of the losing lycan kingdom, that means you had ties to Bahir Dar?” she asked as her whole face lit up, putting the rest of us to shame with her knowledge.
Liam gave a weak smile. “I see you’ve done your homework.”
She smiled back, but not in the flirtatious way the other girls had. There was a sense of admiration in her eyes. “I read.”
He laughed again. “Well, while we’re on the topic, it’s important that we understand why the Bahir Dar Kingdom fell that day.”
Beth’s hand went up again, although Liam wasn’t asking anyone to answer for him. Looking like her knowledge on the subject had impressed him quite a bit, he called on her anyway.
“It was simple. They were outnumbered by the Sovereign’s army.”
Liam nodded, but it was clear from his expression he had something to add.
“Yes and no. Yes, we were outnumbered, but not just based on the size of the Sovereign’s army,” he explained. “In the weeks leading up to the battle, he planned his attack on us carefully. And by planned, I mean … he allowed his soldiers to go out into the town and turn as many humans into mutts as possible—a sacrifice our king was never willing to make, which we all supported one-hundred-percent,” he shared. “…Even knowing the odds weren’t likely in our favor.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“The man all lycans have been forced to revere as their king has never had any sort of concern for life—human, lycan, or otherwise. The only thing he cares about now, and has ever cared about, is the building up of his kingdom and himself.”
The room was silent for several seconds, but Beth spoke again. This time, she seemed reluctant.
“I’ve heard stories about a dragon who was taken in by King Noah of Bahir Dar. He was mentioned several times in the books my parents have given me over the years, although his story is pretty vague. But … I was just wondering if the dragon he took in … was that … you?” she finally asked. “I mean, your age and experiences seem to fit, so … I just thought … maybe—”
Liam smiled, but didn’t lift his eyes from the floor. “This dragon, did he have a name?”
Beth shrugged. “He was always just referred to by some Latin phrase I had to Google the meaning of.” She went on to reveal what she’d learned to the rest of the class. “He was referred to as The Reaper.”
His smile faded some, but I think it shocked us all when he nodded, owning up to it whe
n Beth identified him. She stared at Liam like she just realized she was in the company of a celebrity. Sort of like she idolized him as she mouthed three words:
“No freakin’ way.”
“That nickname was given during some dark days in my life,” Liam shared. “I didn’t think I had much to live for, so, all of a sudden, every cause became one worth dying for.” He paused and I noted how his eyes shifted to Evie for a brief second. Right after, he masked what I guessed was sadness with another laugh. “So, my apologies to the few dragons in the room. I’m pretty sure my past behavior had something to do with others thinking we’re all savages.”
Quiet laughter ricocheted off the walls.
Beside me, Roz’s pen was about to start a fire on the sheet of paper she’d nearly filled from top to bottom with notes. She jotted down keywords I was sure she planned to dive into later. Among them: Reaper.
It wasn’t until seeing it in written form that I recalled seeing it written before. My brow tensed as I fought to remember where. And then it hit me.
My grandfather’s notes. The context escaped me, but I was sure he mentioned it.
“But all the wars we’ve engaged in over the centuries, all the tearing down and rebuilding, is exactly what brings us here today.”
Liam stopped pacing for a moment to scan the crowd. “While most of us, myself included, are having a hard time understanding the actions of the clans at the moment, I think this is their version of taking a stand. Granted, we’re still in the early stages with many across the planet simply refusing to pay the tariff, but don’t be deceived. You’d be surprised how many wars began because one side ‘wakes up’ and suddenly sees the big picture, realizes that, if something isn’t done, future generations such as yourselves are damned to a fate worse than those who came before you.”
I listened as intently as everyone else. Whether I liked him or not, he seemed to know more than any of us did about what was going on. More than even my brothers had been able to explain.
“The tariff serves a dual purpose,” he went on. “The most obvious thing it accomplishes is that it builds the Sovereign’s kingdom, but not the lycan race as a whole. Monetarily speaking, clans around the world have poured their hard-earned money at his feet for centuries. And clans have also played a major part in fortifying his defense system. Once a year, young shifters are delivered to his doorstep. Three from each clan.”
No one said a word. Before shifting, none of us had any clue why certain ones not much older than us would seem to drop off the face of the planet. We were always told they enlisted in the army, but … we didn’t realize until recently which army they were serving.
“But there’s something deeper that’s instilled in the lycan race every time that tariff is paid,” Liam continued. “It keeps your people bound—physically and, more importantly, mentally. The message the Sovereign is sending every time he collects is that he’s in control and all of you … are powerless.”
Roz’s pen stopped moving and she zoned out as she stared at Liam. His words seemed to be hitting home.
“The man is a master manipulator,” Liam added. “I have to give him that. No one has perfected the art quite like him. He’s learned to spread fear like a cancer, one that grows unchecked.” He paced toward the fake window to his right again. “Have any of you wondered why the generation before you thought it better to keep you all in the dark concerning your true nature?”
Several around the room nodded and mumbled responses.
“The answer is simple and complex at the same time: your generation would be much easier to control, and far more useful to him, if you were all in these superhero bodies, with the mental capacity of a grilled cheese sandwich.”
The others laughed and Liam smiled.
“Sounds funny, but it’s the truth. It’s easier to control those who have no real sense of where they’re going. No sense of identity. In essence, you can mold them to be whoever, or whatever, you want them to be. That was his plan. He intended to raise a generation of mindless followers who had no recollection of their ancestors’ strength, of the battles they fought and won, of the sacrifices they made.”
I hated that his logic stuck with me. Our parents had been fooled into thinking our lives would be easier, more peaceful, if we were kept ignorant and then taught to uphold the Sovereign’s laws without question. Without revolt.
Until someone had a change of heart and stopped complying.
Thank God they woke up.
It was clear the Sovereign hoped to raise up a generation of robots who would, in turn, raise future robots, and change the order of things altogether.
“Remember those rumors and exaggerations I mentioned when we first got started?” Liam asked, cutting into my thoughts. “Many of those were started by the Sovereign himself. His intentions were to focus all of the lycan races’ fear and animosity toward one, common factor. Doing so would enable him to spur a false sense of unity against a common enemy. All the while, blinding your people to the fact that he was their greatest adversary. And that’s where we get to the eventual conflict between lycans and dragons. It was merely a diversion that was, yes, steeped in some semblance of truth—i.e. the rage I mentioned before—but mostly, it was a divisive tactic, not much different than a politician pushing his own agenda. Raging war against the dragons was a campaign of sorts and, from it, a new day dawned.”
Liam took a breath and smiled when he surveyed the room.
“You all look incredibly overwhelmed, so we’ll pause here and I’ll take questions so I can clear up any confusion before moving ahead.”
Beth’s hand shot up first and Roz’s right after. He called on Beth.
“How does the Sovereign get the young shifters he collects to willingly submit to his militia?”
“Good question. He sires them.”
Beth frowned. “I’ve heard that’s possible, but have no clue what the process is. I know mutts are sired when bitten, but how’s it done with those who were born lycans?”
“They’re put on a very strict diet.” He paused to smile, probably knowing what he’d say next would turn our stomachs. “For a week straight, the only substance they’re offered is the Sovereign’s blood. And, because there are so many of them, it’d be impossible for him to provide it fresh for them all day every day. So … it’s old blood. Blood that’s been stored up over time.”
A collective wave of nausea swept the crowd with the occasional “Eew,” whined by the girls.
“Appetizing, right?” Liam joked. “But that’s the only way. After a week, they’re totally transformed and ready to do his bidding.”
“That’s disgusting. Sorry I asked,” Beth mumbled.
Liam pointed toward Roz. “You had something to add?”
She smiled and, at the sight of it, I had this strange sense of her fraternizing with the enemy.
“Um, yes, I do. Was it the Sovereign’s tactics that diminished the dragons’ numbers so greatly? I mean, it’s no secret there don’t seem to be many of you. Or … is that a misunderstanding?”
Liam shook his head. “Unfortunately, no, it’s not a misunderstanding. And, yes, you’re right. There were many efforts to ‘eliminate’ the imagined threat we posed, so it wasn’t uncommon for entire villages of dragons to fall victim to surprise, blitzkrieg attacks in the middle of the night, leveling them to the ground. The heads and wings of my people were kept as trophies or sometimes gifts delivered to the Sovereign as a show of loyalty and solidarity.”
“Wings?” My head whipped to the right at the sound of Evie’s voice. She seemed confused. “I didn’t realize that was even … a thing.”
It wasn’t lost on me how Liam’s expression, his tone, softened when he addressed her.
“It’s more of a latent ability,” he explained, “but flying is one of our races many conveniences.”
She still seemed confused. “So … why can’t we see them. Are they invisible?”
“In a sense, yes. The only
time they can be seen, touched, is in our shifted form and, even then, only if we decide to spread them.”
I’d seen Liam in battle before, when we faced the mutts. It would have been so easy for him to leave the scene or even use flight to his advantage, but he never did. He fought on the ground like the rest of us and, without having to wonder ‘why’ for too long, I figured it out.
Because of Evie…
She was clearly just learning how to tap into who she really was, just like the rest of us, so there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he stayed on the ground to protect her. Apparently, his own wellbeing meant very little to him compared to hers.
My stomach turned at the thought of him caring that much about the girl I wanted to myself. Just like that, I was right back where I started when first walking through the door of this lecture hall.
Angry.
Frustrated.
Evie settled down again and Liam moved on. “Are there any other questions?” he asked.
When no one raised their hands, he continued, sharing more about the history of both supernatural races and I tried to focus. It was difficult, though. Because, every time his eyes would drift toward Evie, every time she was paying attention and caught his gaze … her heart.
It raced like crazy.
He got to her, in ways I was beginning to think I never could. If what she said was true, if they really were ‘tethered’ in the past, what chance did I stand present day?
Should I even be thinking like that right now, considering?
In my mind, I held a small hope that our separation might be temporary, an opportunity for us to both grow and figure things out. But what if we never quite got around to having our second chance? What if me being what I am prevented that? What if the deep-rooted connection she had with him, the man I glared at while he lectured from the front of the room, made that impossible?
It was now more real to me than before; the fact that Liam stood a very good chance of winning Evie’s heart.
And it also became very real that, despite how strongly I felt for her … there didn’t seem to be much I could do to stop that from happening.
