by Ella Frank
As Li’Am’s hateful words bounced off the stone walls, his son remained silent.
He knew all about family conflict. Hell, he hadn’t seen his own brother for years until a couple of days ago, and before that… Mala’Kai had made it easy to disown him. But this familial discord wasn’t his, and he didn’t feel right about being there.
He was about to open his mouth and ask to be excused when Li’Am turned towards him.
“Ry’Ker.”
Raising his eyes, he replied respectfully, “Yes, Commander?”
“I told you to watch him.”
Bastian’s sneer entered his head, Well, that explains a lot.
Ry’Ker would be damned if he would feel guilty for following orders. That was his job. But he still had a niggling of that emotion gnawing in his gut.
What does it explain?
Si’Bastian finally turned his head towards him, and his eyes gleamed a shiny black. Your sudden tolerance of what you hate the most. I should have known. There’s always a puppet doing the master’s dirty work.
That stung, and Ry’Ker actually winced as Bastian’s final thought was muttered through his mind.
I should know.
* * *
A low crackling sound filtered into Naeve’s thoughts as her eyes slowly opened. She was lying in the center of a soft, narrow bed. The end of which had a curled iron frame, and just behind that, across the room, was a flickering fire—the only light source in the small space. Though still in her sundress, she noticed that her jacket and boots had been removed, her feet now completely bare.
Sitting up slowly, she placed a hand to her chest as a dull ache throbbed between her breasts. She rubbed it several times, but when she looked down to her skin, she saw no blemishes. Frowning, she let her eyes adjust and then move up and over the furniture surrounding her.
Heavy and wooden, each piece looked handmade. There was a chunky looking dresser, a wooden mantel over the fire, and as she turned to the left…
Kai.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the way he was studying her.
Reclined in a sturdy-looking chair that was pushed up against the wall, he had his long legs stretched out and his black boots were crossed at the ankle. He’d placed his black cape back on and pulled the hood up over his head, which caused shadows to play across his features.
His arms were crossed over his chest, and Naeve noticed that he’d finally removed his gloves. They were sitting on the table beside him as he held a strange pipe. Smoke curled from the end of it and drifted up in front of his face.
When she met his eyes, she was reminded how stormy and grey they were—or, right now, how smoky.
She wanted him to say something to break the silence, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, and as each minute passed, she felt more and more self-conscious.
Deciding that it was ridiculous to be frightened of him when he’d practically saved her life, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and then pushed up to stand.
“Oh, hell!” she yelped and then sat back on the bed, pulling her feet up.
“Cold floor?” The question was asked in a voice that seemed distant but…amused.
“Yes. Really cold.”
He brought his feet to himself and stood, his lofty frame reminding her of how intimidating he really could be. “It’s the stone. No matter what season, it never warms.” Then he wandered over to where she was sitting.
She could feel her heart starting to beat rapidly in her chest. She remembered what he’d said about not forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to. But as she sat there on the edge of a bed in a strange room, she felt…drawn to him. It was like he was the only familiar thing there, and maybe, if she reached out and touched him, he would anchor her to reality.
But what reality was she thinking about? The one back in Wilmington, North Carolina? Or this peculiar dreamlike world she seemed to be walking around in?
He was all that was familiar.
When he stopped in front of her, she looked up his long…long torso to the serious face peering down at her. His lips were set in a grim line, and his hands remained by his sides. One was empty while the other was holding the pipe.
She needed to start talking, to start asking questions—she knew that. But as her eyes traced his face, she found she had no words.
“You’ve been asleep for quite some time.”
Thank God. He spoke first.
“How long?” she asked. There. That seemed simple enough.
“The entire trip back. A little over a day and a half.”
Naeve felt her eyes widen as her mouth fell open. “A day and…and a half?” she sputtered.
He pushed the hood off his head, and that was when she noticed his hair. When they’d been trekking through the woods, it had been pulled back into a knot at the base of his neck, but that wasn’t the case here. She vaguely remembered waking earlier and seeing it, but now, with his head tilted down and the hood removed, his shoulder-length hair fell forward to surround his face.
“Yes, a day and a half. We arrived an hour or so earlier. Do you remember what happened?”
She didn’t, and as she tried to, her head and chest began to throb. “No,” she finally replied.
As she glanced around the room again, Naeve turned her head, and was surprised to feel rough, callused fingers touch the skin of her temple. It was the first time he’d touched her without his gloves, and the warmth of him seeped inside her chilled body.
She remained as still as possible as he silently drew his fingers down her cheek to her chin. Then he gripped it between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up, mumbling, “It is true.”
Naeve tried to catch up, tried to understand what he meant, but she couldn’t. She wanted to ask him where her sisters were. Where she was. But instead of mentioning either of those things, she heard herself ask, “What is?”
He released her and took a step away, dropping his hand to his side. “I can touch you,” he stated.
Naeve swallowed hard, surprised by his answer. She also had a sudden thought of what he would do with his new knowledge now that he knew.
She watched him walk back over to where he’d been seated and pick up his gloves and knife. He slipped the blade into a cover of sorts that was hanging from his waist and then rounded back to face her.
“Come,” he instructed as he strode to the door.
“What?” she questioned, reminding herself that she’d get no answers if she asked no questions. “Where are we going?”
“To a place neither you nor I wish to go.”
“And where is that?” She clasped her hands together, determined not to move until he told her where he was taking her.
He pulled the hood back over his head as he said, “To see Li’Am. Your uncle.”
* * *
Bastian examined the man his father had assigned him and wondered why he was so surprised. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know his father’s stance when it came to him. He just couldn’t believe that Li’Am thought that the guard could track him. It was almost…insulting.
No matter what kind of abomination he thought he was, Bastian would never use anything in his power to hurt his father. Why would he when all he’d ever wanted was his approval?
“Si’Bastian,” Li’Am said, and with a crook of two fingers, he summoned the guard who’d retrieved him farther into the room.
Bastian didn’t even try to get into his father’s thoughts; he knew it would be futile. Li’Am had figured out a way to block his mind many years ago.
“Father.”
“I’d hoped you would prove me wrong when I sent you on this mission.”
A test—how typical.
“But as I suspected, your pride and arrogance put everyone in danger.”
Bastian clenched his fists as his teeth ground together.
“And Ry’Ker informs me that you’ve perfected your disappearing act…the latest trick of yours—”
/> “It’s not a trick,” he cut in, not bothering to spare a glance for the guard shifting his booted feet beside him.
“Whatever it is,” his father boomed, annoyed by the interruption, “your behavior is even less predictable than before.”
Bastian wondered where Li’Am was going with this, but before he could ask he felt a cold, iron shackle encircle his wrist.
Immediately on the defensive, he tried to fade…fade to nothing. But as he tapped into that new part of himself, the part he didn’t fully understand, an excruciating pain split through his skull and vibrated down his spine, bringing him to his knees with a shout.
“Gods, Li’Am. What are you doing to him?”
Ry’Ker…
“What I should have done years ago.”
Bastian rocked forward, gripping the sides of his head, and heard the distant clang of his crown as it hit the floor—a fog clouding his mind. He brought his eyes up to the tall frame towering over him, and as his eyes met his father’s, he felt the stinging prick of water filling them.
The hard planes of Li’Am’s rugged face were pulled taut, and as he loomed over him, he opened his mind to Bastian’s drugged one.
You are a disgrace, sensualeer.
Before he passed out on the floor, Bastian pushed through the racking shivers now gripping his body and thought, And I am your son.
Kai stopped outside the Great Hall of L’Mere and stared at the closed, wooden doors and cast-iron knockers. It had been years since he’d stepped through them—and even longer since he’d been welcome. He counted the knots in the wood of the door, hating that he was back there at all.
He looked over his shoulder to where Naeve was standing behind him with her arms wrapped around herself. She’d pulled her boots on, and he’d given her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. The black wool was a stark contrast to her fair hair and pale skin, and when her blue eyes met his, he could tell she was trying not to let her nerves get the best of her.
His lips twitched as he returned his focus to the doors. He admired that about her.
The little rabbit was brave.
“Wait here,” he instructed before he pushed open the doors. The hinges groaned under the heavy weight as they widened, and he entered uninvited.
The first thing he noticed in the large hall was the palpable tension. His eyes zoomed in on the metallic back of his brother’s Imperial chainmail, and then they dropped to the man on the floor beside him.
Bastian, Kai thought, striding forward, not sparing a glance for the man standing on the stone dais. Gods, what did he do to you?
When he got no response, he knelt down beside the sensualeer’s prone body and reached out to touch his arm. Kai looked to Ry’Ker, who hadn’t bothered to turn and acknowledge him. His loyalty to the arrogant man staring down at him and Bastian disgusted Kai. Almost as much as Li’Am’s loyalty to his deranged sister, the Empress.
Once he’d gotten to his feet, Kai stepped over Bastian and towards the dais. When he was one step away from the Commander of the Imperial Guard, he heard the metallic slide of a sword being unsheathed and felt a pointy tip press to the base of his spine.
He halted where he was, his eyes locked on dark, calculating ones that reminded him of both Bastian and Seraphine, and then Li’Am spoke.
“Mala’Kai.”
Kai narrowed his eyes on the man he’d grown up admiring and replied, “Li’Am,” choosing not to acknowledge his title or rank.
“You would be wise to step down.”
Kai’s gaze didn’t waver, but his lip curled as the blade dug into his back. “If you don’t plan to use that sword, brother, you better get it the hell away from my spine.”
There was a deafening silence as the three of them stood in a standoff, and then the unexpected broke it.
“Bastian?” Naeve’s high-pitched gasp was like a whip cracking in the room.
Li’Am’s eyes fixated on the woman now running towards the man lying, unmoving, on the floor. Kai felt the pressure on his back disappear and then aimed a steely glance at his brother, who’d stepped back and resumed his guard’s stance—sword sheathed, legs spread shoulder-width apart, and arms behind his back—still choosing not to meet his stare.
Naeve knelt down beside Bastian, much as he had minutes before, and reached out to touch the side of his face. Then she raised her head and demanded, “What did you do to him?”
Kai wanted to know himself, so when he looked back to the man’s father and saw him focused on the woman by Bastian’s side, he was shocked by his expression.
The shrewd eyes from only seconds ago had changed, and the ones currently aimed down at Naeve were soft. He appeared…poleaxed.
Kai didn’t much care about what feelings this man was having right then. There was no way he was going to let him near her. The Commander dismissed him by moving to his left and taking a step down. But before the older man got far, Kai was by Naeve’s side, his weapon drawn.
“Trust me when I tell you you don’t want to come another step closer.”
“Kai,” Ry’Ker said, finally opening his mouth.
Kai ignored him and kept a watch on Li’Am. “You aren’t my Commander and hold no importance to me, so I assure you, if you come a step closer, I will use this on you and enjoy dying for it.”
He could sense the fear in Naeve as the warmth of her body seeped through the material covering his leg, but he remained focused.
Li’Am ceased moving and gave a slight nod of his head, acknowledging his threat. “Very well, Mala’Kai.” The Commander’s eyes flicked down to Naeve and his son and then came back to him. “I just wanted to—”
“I don’t much care for what you want,” he growled. “Back off.”
“Protective of her, aren’t you?” Li’Am asked, his eyes blazing with fury at being challenged in his own home.
“Do you blame me? Family obviously means very little to you.”
Li’Am’s black brows rose in doubt. “What do you know about family? At least he is not dead.”
Kai felt the comment like a piercing knife to the gut, just as Li’Am had intended. But instead of showing its effectiveness, he schooled his features to indifference.
“No, but he’s not functioning, is he?” Kai cocked his head and asked, “What did you think? That this would prove you were more powerful?”
Li’Am’s jaw twitched—the Commander’s patience clearly running thin.
With his sword still drawn, Kai told him, “This merely proves how weak you really are.”
He was about to say more when a loud, feminine squeal came from the door.
* * *
Naeve was kneeling on the cool, stone ground, watching Kai, who was holding a lethal-looking sword pointed towards…one scary guy.
Where Kai was intimidating in an I’m-gonna-slice-your-throat kind of way, the air around this man screamed of power and authority. As she let her eyes move to the third person in the room—a soldier with his sword drawn, protecting this man—Naeve knew whoever Kai was holding at bay was important.
“Naeve!”
The second her name was called, she turned to see Fiona and Audra being escorted into the room by two more men, dressed as the soldier was. When she glanced back to where Bastian lay passed out cold, she wondered what had happened to him. Standing, she watched Fiona rush forward and Audra trail behind her much more warily.
Uncaring of the standoff occurring, Fiona grabbed her in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Thank God. Thank God.”
Naeve looked at Kai, who was peering down at them—his arm still raised, his sword still aimed at the other man.
“Where is Siobhan? Is she awake?” Naeve asked as she let go of Fiona.
“No. She’s back in the room…” Fiona trailed off, looking around, and when her eyes locked on Kai, she froze.
“It’s okay,” Naeve murmured. “He won’t hurt you.”
That was when Audra finally spoke. “He already did.”
Na
eve turned accusatory eyes towards the man facing the three of them and felt all of the horror and apprehension she’d first had for him come flooding back. Then she took a step away and watched his eyes harden as he observed the move before severing the connection.
“Unbelievable…”
The word was said with such reverence that it seemed to pull everyone out of their momentary trance. They turned to the man at the front of the room and found his eyes on Audra. Automatically, Fiona went to one side of her sister and Naeve to the other.
“I told you before,” Kai warned. “Don’t come any closer.”
His voice was steady and his posture rigid, but this time, instead of finding it calming, Naeve found it distressing.
What did Audra mean he hurt them? Has he been lying this entire time?
“Put your sword away, Kai.” The order was issued from the man who looked to be dressed in medieval metal.
A knight’s costume?
“Why would I do that, brother?”
Brothers, Naeve thought, taking in the information. She never would have guessed. They seemed more like strangers, and they looked even more so.
“Because you don’t know all the facts, and you’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be.”
Kai faced the man and asked, “What happened to Bastian? Or do you even care?”
The knight’s jaw ticked, and then he stated clearly, “It’s not my place to question the Commander’s will.”
“Oh,” Kai scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Put your sword away. Don’t make this day a bloody one.”
Kai turned back to the…Commander? Who was still watching the three of them—Audra in particular.
“Back up,” he snarled, thrusting the sword forward in silent warning.
