Alby cut in, “He did it. Adair used his ability against Memphis.”
Brokk barely took in the next couple of seconds. Roque stiffened, turning slowly to look at Adair limping behind them all, his hooded eyes swept down to the floor, not realizing that everyone had focused in on him.
He hurt Memphis.
His nails dug into his skin, his body quivering. Brokk’s body responded before his mind could. He felt his weight shift, anger flaring through his veins, electrifying every move as he sprang forward. He pushed past Roque, yells coming from behind him.
But it was like he was being funneled down, swept away, with only one objective.
To make Adair pay.
His blood coursed through his veins, wildly alive, and Brokk lost himself to his adrenaline. His bones cracked, and the world splintered as he flew, landing heavily as a wolf, his lean body and golden fur rippling, his growl tearing through him.
The King of the Shattered Isles slammed himself flush to the wall, looking with wide eyes when Brokk came charging past. The rest of his company followed suit, and Brokk snapped his massive maws at them.
They should be afraid.
Adair’s head snapped up, shadows and malice dancing across his face. Brokk didn’t care about what the Faes were saying. Or the Strattons. Or the strange new King. All that had ever mattered to him was his family.
When it came to him, it didn’t have to do with blood. Memphis was his best friend, and their bond was as strong as any kinship. They looked after each other and always had. Always would.
The coldness of the hallway sent shivers up his limbs as his body was tugged sideways, slamming into the concrete, bones cracking. Ice slicked the hallways, as Bresslin sauntered up behind him.
“Mom, no!” Adair lurched forward, his skin draining of any color.
Brokk recovered himself, his nails as sharp as any blade, and they dug into the pale ice. A deep thrumming overtook his senses. He was two lunges away from Adair, and his hackles rose on his back. Bresslin would never reach him in time, and she wouldn’t attack him, not with the Faes there.
Adair was a liar, always waiting for the opportune moment to tear their group apart.
It ended now.
Adair stopped, slowly raising his chin, fists clenching at his sides. Snapping his massive jaws, spittle flying, Brokk welcomed his rage, his defiance. It wouldn’t be a fair fight any other way.
His muscles tensed, and he lowered his body, preparing to cut through the air.
“Brokk, NO!” Emory screamed, throwing herself in front of him as she grabbed his paw, her green eyes alit. His world came crashing down around him. His back slammed into the floor, winding him, as every ounce of strength, every ounce of himself, was gone.
Emory stood above him, gritting her teeth, and Brokk knew she was barely holding on to the new surge of ability soaking into her bones. His ability.
“What are you doing?” Emory asked. Each word was forced, and she looked down to him, shielding Adair behind her.
Her grip tightened around his wrist, and Brokk licked his dry lips, searching desperately for his power, both the wolf and the other. The secret he had held close to his heart for years. The secret he had made sure to keep from his best friends, knowing if he ever got himself into this situation, that she would know in a split second.
Her eyebrows furrowed and sweat slicked her forehead. Brokk wanted to scream at her, to stop, to try to not figure it out. He didn’t understand it himself. They had transcended time, and Brokk wanted to form any coherent sentences, to explain. Instead, panic flooded through him, about what he had almost done and about what Emory now knew.
Pulse fluttering underneath her pinning ability, she leaned in closer, whispering only to him. “This isn’t over. Don’t kill him, okay?”
Letting him go, Brokk shuddered, his ability slamming back into his marrow; relief washed over him. It was like returning home after being caught in a storm. Warm and familiar, he clutched his head, losing himself in the feeling. He never wanted to let go.
“Roque, this can’t be tolerated!” Bresslin exclaimed.
Sitting up, Brokk watched Bresslin chasing after Roque, the rest of the group hanging back. Roque stormed right up to him, and Brokk froze. Their leader lowered himself, so he was eye-to-eye with Brokk, his breathing heavy.
For a moment, they stayed like this, sizing up the other. Roque ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.
“This should result in expulsion, Foster. Attacking a teacher? Now a student? Adair’s actions are his own consequences and will be dealt with. Memphis is fine. You’re executing penalties leading with your heart and not your logic. That’s a dangerous dance to take part in.”
Brokk snapped his gaze to behind him, focusing more, and he spotted Memphis wide-eyed but standing meekly, looking more embarrassed than anything.
Roque stared at him, darkness filling his gaze. Sighing, he stood before raising his voice, “Brokk Foster, you are hereby expelled for the act of already assaulting a teacher and now trying as well with a student.”
“No, “Adair protested, pushing past Emory, limping, a bruise flowering on his jaw. He flicked his gaze to Brokk before refocusing on Roque. “This is a misunderstanding. Brokk shouldn’t be punished. He is just being a loyal friend. Isn’t this what the Academy teaches, to protect others above all?”
“Yes, but not to reprimand with violence.”
“The world is being ripped apart from its core by violence! Right now, Roque, there are dark forces working against you, to destroy any sense of good that the Academy has built,” Adair said and flushed, but his words struck true.
Roque looked to his best friend’s son; his features stony. “But to respond with such a reckoning will ensure we tear apart the moral we have built.”
Adair seethed. “And to do nothing except ensure there is a reckoning will form a security never seen before. In this case, we have to fight.”
“He’s right.” Tadeas stepped forward, making all of them instinctively step back. “Roque follow through with what we have decided. Together, we will stop Cesan and make sure Kiero will not fall into another war. These are your people, your land. Take your claim to protecting it.”
Roque growled under his breath and said to Adair and Brokk, “I will deal with both of you later. To your rooms. Now.”
Turning to Tadeas, Roque snapped, “Do not tell me exactly what I should do or how I should feel. If this alliance is to work, you must earn my trust. I am not quick to forget the way you came here, Tadeas.” His eyes narrowed. “To tell my wife her father had been killed? That our peace treaty is no longer recognized? That our fabrication of a government is pitiful? Don’t overstep your boundaries.” Roque turned, leaving Tadeas to follow him.
Brokk stood shakily, turning to Emory and Adair. Adair glowered at him, not saying a word then limped down the hallway.
Emory rested a hand on his arm as Brokk started to go after Adair. “You’ve done enough. Let me go talk to him first. We’ve all been through a lot.”
Emory shot him one more look, disappointment shining in her eyes before catching up with Adair. Linking arms, they left.
Memphis gave him a pitying look then joined Emory and Adair.
Leaving him alone in the hallway, his heart was in his throat, his fear consuming him. Swallowing down his disappointment, Brokk made his way back to his room.
Chapter Six
Memphis
They walked in silence, unsure of what to say to one another. Adair’s shoulders were slumped, curved inward, like he was protecting his heart. Emory was pure energy, each bounce of her step deepening her frown or the pinch between her eyebrows.
He looked to the bland hallways that contained his life, his hope, and his future. This school was so much more; it had been a symbol of change, a promise of a way of life that could get him back home. Back to his parents. To be a part of his family once more. That would mend the displacement Roque’s father had created.
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He had thrived off this, thrown himself into his studies, private tutors, and endless sleepless nights just thinking of that wish.
And now?
It seemed to be all spiraling, slipping through Memphis’s fingers faster than he could manage. Shooting a glance at Adair, he wanted to say something. Clenching his jaw, his drained body chose for him. His black shirt seemed to constrict as Memphis stuffed his hands into the pockets of his well-worn black pants.
Adair had slipped. His fellow classmates, even some teachers, had let their skepticism of Adair be known, that he truly was dangerous, that his family shouldn’t be trusted. But the Strattons were powerful and were so close to the Faes, that it was a risk to mention it.
Memphis had always scoffed at his peers’ judgments; they were harsh and had little reason to think Adair was any different than them. Everyone at this school was a risk, to themselves and to the people around them. Why should they single out Adair?
Finding his gaze drifting once more to his friend, doubt clawed at his mind. Emory caught his gaze, and Memphis flushed, quickly looking away. The hallway curved; they were coming to their crossroads.
Say something.
Adrenaline made everything look sharper than it appeared, like fragmented shards awkwardly pieced together. The lighting along the walls seemed too bright, a strange hissing noise coming from them. The classrooms they passed were too distorted, too empty. He felt the air grow thicker, more humid. Gulping, he quickened his pace, knowing he didn’t have long before succumbing to another episode of his ability.
“Memphis, wait!”
Emory and Adair’s voices overlapped, creating a strange harmony throughout his mind, and he stopped, his body shaking. Sweat slicked every ounce of his skin, but Adair pushed in front of Emory.
“Memphis, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... Well, actually, I did mean to, but let me try to explain!”
Taking a deep breath, Memphis paused, holding on to his control as Adair said in a rush, “I made a mistake. You have to believe me! All I could think about in that moment was how to get to my dad, and I never meant to hurt you!”
Raising his gaze to Adair, Memphis said coolly, “To get to your dad by whatever means possible right?” He looked away. “Just forget it, Adair. It’s already done.”
“Memphis!” Emory exclaimed.
A cold strong pressure on his wrist made him falter, and he turned. Emory stood, her loose green shirt making her eyes striking. Her pants were padded along her thighs, and Memphis could make out different knives’ handles poking out from their sheaths. She was wringing her hands and looking more nervous than he had ever seen her. To him, she was fearless.
“Memphis, I’m sorry for what happened. Are you okay?”
A pressure had built so fiercely in his mind, trying to break through and overtake him. Blinking hard, he shook his head. “Em, don’t worry about it. It’s Adair, right? He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, or any of us. It’s just been a long day. You know, a lot happening at once.”
She chuckled darkly, running a hand through her ebony hair. “I guess it is, isn’t it? You know my dad is announcing our family’s regency? That as of tomorrow, I will be Emory Fae, Princess of Kiero? That as of tomorrow, everything my parents built will shift back into the mold it once was in.”
He took her in, weighing the truth in her words. He was afraid of what exactly this weight would cost. Grimacing, he said, “All we can do is make sure we have each other’s backs. And that the decisions being made are ones that will only better our lives.”
“And how exactly do we dictate that at fifteen and seventeen?” she asked, her voice demure.
Memphis arched his eyebrow. “We make sure to find the truths in this world and follow them. No matter the cost.” He took a step back, and the walls dipped. He breathed deeply. “Emory, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Turning, his footsteps echoed around him, pushing faster and faster toward his room.
Hold on.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had two episodes within the same week. It had been years.
Familiar panic set in as each hanging light on the wall flickered as he passed, the whining energy pushing against the frame that held the magic in. It begged for release and knew he could do it.
Everything in the Academy was constructed by the Faes, the Strattons, and the teachers and their abilities. From the steel framing, to the concrete, to the lights, to the desks and the very beds they slept in. Every particle, every structure had traces of strength and magic in it. The idea of technologies met with abilities was something never seen before, and it was catching fire across Kiero.
The Academy was, before all else, a tool, a resource to mend the mistakes of the past. Roque was building an empire with the belief desolates and people of abilities could live in harmony. Roque was living proof by manning an entire school of some of the most powerful kids in Kiero.
As Memphis ran harder, the full weight of what Roque had taken on hit home. The Faes had already achieved an impossible feat. A desolate prince and a fierce woman from the Shattered Isles being forced into an arranged marriage, only to fall in love and reshape their world into freedom.
What was one more impossible feat to Roque Fae?
Memphis reached his room and threw the door open violently. His world dipped, and slamming the door shut, his back slid against the wood. His breath was short and ragged. He was going to be sick, as a wave hit his consciousness, pain lacing through him.
He couldn’t hang on.
The white noise sharpened as Memphis let his walls down, tired of fighting, tired of constantly trying to be something he wasn’t. Just for this second, he abandoned his control. Letting go, his ability consumed him, and a like a star exploding, Memphis was lost in the sea of a thousand voices, sharpened and clear. The room disappeared, he disappeared, and the voices became clear.
Or one voice.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Roque’s voice cut through the rest, powerful and full of secrets. But Memphis tensed before succumbing once more.
“She is our daughter, Nei, always. Before titles, before us, before this school. Our. Daughter. Her quality of life is priority. I will not put her in danger unless it is the only option. What choices do we have here?”
“I could try mending with the Isles, my sisters. Word should have never left our confinement. About what happened. About what we did. About what we have.”
“In our place of power, it is also our place to protect this secret. Until it is safe. Until we know for certain that after dealing with Cesan, there are no more threats. There has been word of strange things happening past Sarthaven. That a darkness is starting to lift its head, tinging the borders. Creatures of the night, strange disappearances, accidents. The people of Kiero are scared and are looking to us to secure their peace of mind.” He paused, then continued, “I promise you, as my best friend, that after we deal with this, we will destroy it. We will find a way, find someone who can help. But until then, we make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Being slammed back into the present, Memphis fell on his hands and knees, heaving for air. The room spun, and he threw his meager energy into throwing his mental walls back up. A blissful emptiness greeted him, as he staggered to his bed. What had he just heard? What were they talking about? Why were they in danger?
Sitting hard on the edge of his bed, gasping, he tried to sort through his emotions. Brokk had been right. Within twenty-four hours, everything had changed. And his hopes were crashing around him.
Numbly, he looked to the door, his gut telling him to run, to find Brokk. There was nothing they couldn’t figure out. But for the first time in eleven years, he couldn’t move a muscle. It was too much to digest, to take in. How could he move forward when he couldn’t even sort out what he was feeling?
Anger. Grief. Fear.
They were being propelled by the fates, out of his worldly realm of control. He was just another bod
y in the sea of reactions, his course still to be determined. The thought was draining on his already tired and hurt body, and so he leaned back, thumping against his mattress.
His gaze drifted to the ceiling, and Memphis embraced that for the first time, he wasn’t going to do anything but wait and try to sort out the information he knew. His muscles started to relax, and sleep tugged at the edges of his skittering mind, desperately trying to connect the dots.
As his surroundings bled away and his consciousness floated into the realms of dreams, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease and that they were all running out of time.
Chapter Seven
Adair
“Please proceed to the Dining Hall... Please proceed...”
Adair awoke with a jerk, completely and utterly disoriented. The Academy’s intercom blared through the hallway, the whining pre-recorded message sounding flat.
How long had he been asleep? The walk back to his room had been caught in snippets in his mind, his body going through the actions. Blearily looking at the small clock on his bed stand, he realized it was just on the brink of twilight.
Sitting up, Adair rubbed his eyes, listening to the intercom’s drone, his gut tightening with every word. His father hadn’t come back.
Scrambling up, he was across the room and flying through his dresser, sifting through clothes in every direction. He grabbed his usual go-to, the black shirt and pants, with his button-down jacket. Throwing a hopeless look in the mirror, he stopped.
Bruises flowered along his jaw and underneath his eye, his skin paler than usual, his ebony hair standing up in every direction. His eyes were hollow. His empty gaze of indifference reflected at him, but locked down underneath the surface, he was screaming.
Ripping his gaze away, he was out of the room before he could register what was happening. His classmates were already flooding the concrete hallways, the curiosity rippling around them in a contagious energy. Classes had been canceled for the rest of the afternoon, and now this?
Turning the corner, looking to the bay windows, the sun dipped below the horizon, the last rays bleeding into the sky, creating a marvelous display. Beautiful and terrible, he thought, as his gaze drifted back to the throng in front of him, that the world displayed most magnificently before the darkness swept in.
Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1) Page 7
