by Amy Manemann
“I’m glad I was so memorable,” he breathed with a wink that sent heat to my cheeks and other regions.
Braeden’s face swam in my vision, swamping me with guilt. What was I doing? Dream or not, this was definitely wrong. Realizing I was still locked in Lucian’s embrace, I put a hand against his chest, giving him a shove.
“Let go of me,” I demanded firmly, eyes narrowing when he merely grinned.
He arched a dark eyebrow in question. “Do you truly wish me to let you go?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, angry with him for having read my body language so easily, and angry with myself for having allowed it. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m spoken for. Yes, let me go. Now.”
Lucian released his hold, and I instantly took a safe step away from him, eyeing him warily.
“If by spoken for, you’re referring to your Guardian, I hardly think so. You’ll come to your senses where the whelp is concerned and realize where your real future lies. With me.”
He was so smug that it grated on my nerves. “I don’t even know you. What makes you think I’d give up my entire world to be with a Warlock?”
“Why not? Your mother didn’t seem to think it was such a bad idea.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Your mother realized long ago how corrupt the Light Council was in their way of thinking and set out to prove them wrong by forming a secret Alliance with certain sects of the Underworld. Allegiances were formed, and she was on the verge of bringing a whole new era to our world when accused of treason and executed.”
My knees shook with the news, his words echoing in my ears. “You’re lying.”
“Am I? Have you met with the Council yet, Willa? Can you tell me for certain you don’t think their ways of thinking are outdated and barbaric? They govern how society should live, take children from their homes at young ages for training, and then send their mercenaries out to kill Underworlders without a second thought. Does this sound like the work of a peaceful society to you?” he demanded, eyes flashing formidably.
My legs unable to hold me, I sank onto the staircase, hardly believing what I was hearing. What he said made sense in a warped sort of way, though I couldn’t very well condemn an entire culture on what little knowledge I had. That would make me as hypocritical as them. Still, I somehow couldn’t get my conversation with the Light Council out of my head, their accusations of treason fresh in my mind.
“How did my mother die?” I forced myself to ask, almost holding my breath. It was a question I’d asked more in the last few days than I had in my entire life. Perhaps Lucian held the answers I sought.
He slid onto the step next to me. “After she sent you away, she was preparing to confront the Council with her Alliances. Before she could call the meeting, her proof was stolen. It was shortly thereafter when she was accused of treason against the Council and stood trial. Execution by beheading.”
No. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I was forced to swallow or toss my cookies all over the floor. No, that couldn't be true. It didn't make any sense. Lightkeepers were in small commodity, why would they just execute one? Then again, maybe that's exactly what the Warlock wanted me to think. Angry, I stood, eyes narrowed. “If what you say is true, then where’s your proof?”
He quickly rose, towering over me by a few good inches. I didn’t budge, returning his stare with one of my own. My body heated at his nearness, and I had the distinct impression I was playing with fire, but I wasn’t about to back down.
“You are quite brave for someone so young. Tell me, do you look at your Guardian with such desire?” he murmured, reaching up to trail a finger down the side of my cheek.
Cheeks burning, I jerked away from his touch.
“And you’re pretty good at avoiding the question. I don’t know you, Lucian, and I sure as heck don’t trust you. What makes you think I’d believe anything you tell me? You’re a Warlock. From what my aunt has told me, Warlocks are good at devious tactics and manipulation.” I arched an eyebrow when he threw his head back and laughed.
“Ah, I see you have me figured out already. I had hoped you would see the wisdom of my words and want to continue your mother’s work, though I see it’ll take a bit more reassurance on my part for you to see the truth in what I tell you,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling with laughter and something else I couldn’t identify.
“Proof, Lucian. I need proof of what you say. I’m not going to just jump on some anti-Light Council band wagon because a Warlock told me to.”
“Sexy,” he interjected, grinning when I frowned.
“Sexy what?”
“You forgot sexy Warlock. I definitely fall into the sexy category.” He winked, smug grin returning. “Or so I’m told.”
I bit back a smile, liking his audacity even while he infuriated me.
“Whatever. I’m going back to sleep so I can wake up in my own bed. And do me a favor? Next time you feel like chatting, pick up the phone and call like a normal person.” I climbed the staircase, deftly trying to ignore the burn of his gaze as I went. I didn’t want to think of him like that, didn’t want this added complication. I was with Braeden, end of story. Reaching the top, I glanced back at him.
“Sleep well, Sweet Willa.” He lifted a hand to his lips, blowing me a kiss.
I rolled my eyes and entered the hall, not even bothering with a second glance back. All I wanted to do was climb into bed and wake up next to Braeden and forget about the sexy Warlock haunting my dreams.
Chapter 18
The sound of Braeden’s peaceful, even breaths reached me even before I opened my eyes. Thank Goddess. I was awake, in my own bed, with Braeden. All was as it should be. Sensing I was awake, he stirred next to me, a strong arm curling around my waist to pull me closer. I was again under the covers while he lay on top, something I was getting used to.
“You're awake early,” He mumbled sleepily, running a hand through my hair.
“I had the craziest dream last night." I rubbed my forehead, trying to make sense of it all. "Only it wasn’t a dream, or so he told me.”
Braeden straightened, all signs of sleep fading away. “What man? What dream? Willa, you aren’t making any sense.”
Wasn’t that an understatement? “A Warlock named Lucian came to me in a dream. Or maybe I came to him? I don’t know exactly, he said I came to him. Anyway, he said all this stuff about my mom and some Underworld Alliance she’d been working on before she died.”
Braeden’s jaw tightened, eyes glinting dangerously. “Lucian came to you in a dream state? Is this the first time he’s forced himself into your dreams?”
I nodded, then shook my head. “No, he’s never been in my dreams before, but he’s the face I saw at Twitches, the face in the scarves I didn’t know.”
“What did he want?”
“He said he’s been waiting for me to come to him, and that I was to continue my mother’s work on aligning our two worlds, bringing forth a new era. I don’t understand. What is he talking about?”
Braeden’s slowly shook his head. “I don’t have any idea, but if it involves Lucian, it can’t be good. He’s a powerful Warlock, Willa. Your mother didn’t associate with Underworlders. Not that I know of, anyway.”
His words sent a chill through me, and I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. “Are you sure? Because Lucian seemed pretty certain of himself.”
Braeden eyed me for a second before a curse erupted from his mouth, and he pushed himself off the bed to pace. I drew my knees to my chest, resting my chin on top while my eyes followed his agitated movements.
“I’ll admit I don’t know many details about your mother, or your father for that matter. When it was discovered I would become your Guardian, my training revolved around my Guardianship and you. It would seem I should have been paying closer attention to your family history alongside my training.” Frustration edged his voice. I could relate.
“Lucian said my mother thought the Light
Council was corrupt in their way of thinking and she was trying to form Alliances between our two worlds, that there were certain sects of the Underworld who didn’t share the dark ideals of others. Do you think that’s true?” I asked, rubbing my chin across the top of my knee.
Braeden paused. “I honestly don’t know, but I know someone who might. Get dressed. It’s time for us to find some answers.”
Twenty minutes later I was dressed, hair braided, teeth brushed and hurrying alongside Braeden down the hallway. He was quiet as we walked; I assumed contemplating everything I’d revealed. When we left our rooms, I felt a nagging twinge of guilt as he slipped my hand into his, the feel of Lucian’s arms wrapped around me rising in the back of my mind. I forced the image aside, face burning at the unwanted memory.
“Are you well?” Braeden asked, peering at me from the corner of his eye as we walked.
“Yeah, fine,” I lied, avoiding his gaze. “Where are we going?”
“To see Evanore. She was around when your mother was the Council’s Lightkeeper. Surely she will be able to shed some light on our questions.”
“Will she help us? I know how well things went the last time we talked with the Council,” I reminded him, hurrying to keep up as we entered the great room and jetted into another hallway, this one a shimmering teal.
Braeden shrugged, looking thoughtful. “It’s hard saying, but she’s our best chance right now. We can’t go to the Council with what Lucian has revealed without looking treasonous, and there are few Council members who can be trusted with something like this. Evanore will be discreet, of this I’m certain.”
I hope, I silently added, praying he was right. I rather liked my head attached to my shoulders. We stopped outside an ornately decorated door, swirls of teal, yellow and green whirling in intricate patterns across the surface. Braeden raised his hand to knock, only to have the door swing open before his knuckles could graze the wood.
Evanore stood before us wearing a silky dress that hugged her body, the vibrant colors matching the colors on her door. “Please, come in.”
I didn’t question how she knew we were coming as I followed Braeden inside. Apparently, I was beginning to get used to odd occurrences.
The inside of her room was surprisingly large with a full living room, kitchenette and French doors leading into a bedroom. Evanore led the way to the living room, motioning for us to have a seat on the couch while she sat across from us.
“I hope we haven’t interrupted anything.” I fidgeted nervously.
She smiled, the light touching her green eyes. I was again struck with a feeling of familiarity, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “You are here about your mother, Willa. Apologies aren’t necessary. What is it you seek to know?”
I hesitated, glancing at Braeden. I had no idea where to even begin with this one. Did I just jump in and ask her about the Alliance?
Braeden saved me from having to answer. “You must know what we are about to ask is of a most delicate nature and should remain between us. If you feel that is not something you can offer, we will kindly take our leave.”
“You seek knowledge of Arianna’s position with the Council, and with the Underworld.” Evanore smiled at our wide-eyed expressions. “I can assure you, this matter will most certainly be kept between us.”
My mouth gaped, even as my stomach dipped. “So, it’s true? My mother was working with the Underworlders?”
“Your mother realized there were certain sects within the Underworld who did not agree with the dark ideals, those who did not wish for a war. She was working on aligning those groups to bring to the Council.” Evanore guarded her words carefully. Given our conversation, I couldn't blame her.
“But she never got the chance.”
Evanore shook her head, eyes turning sad. “No, she didn’t. I was away on assignment when her trial took place and had no knowledge of what was going on until after the fact. Everything happened so quickly that by the time I caught wind of it, I was too late.”
I sat silent, digesting the information. No wonder Lancaster and Kensington had been uneasy with my line of questioning. In their eyes, I was following in my mother’s footsteps.
“Your mother was my dearest friend, Willa, and I have felt her passing with every day since. There are not many who know the true story of what happened to Arianna. I’m curious as to how you’ve come into this knowledge,” Evanore continued, eyeing me curiously.
“Lucian. He visited me in my dreams last night and told me. I-I didn’t believe him, didn’t want to believe him.” My throat swelled, and I had to pause to clear it. “I can’t believe it’s true.”
Evanore sighed. “Ah Lucian, such a mischievous Warlock that one. I’m not surprised by his audacity, only that it took him this long to come to you.”
I frowned. “He said I came to him, but I don’t understand how that can be when I had no idea who he was.”
Evanore’s gaze bounced between Braeden and myself, searching our faces. “He did not tell you of your father, then?”
My stomach fluttered uncomfortably, the feeling I got when I was about to be handed unsettling news.
"No." I slowly shook my head. “My father died a long time ago. What does he have to do with this?”
“If Lucian did not speak of him, then your father’s true identity remains a secret. Your father’s name is Ronan Vale.”
Everything inside me stilled. “Wait, my father is Ronan Vale? As in he’s still alive?”
“That cannot be. Ronan Vale is a high Wizard of dark magic. There has never been a mention of him siring a child,” Braeden objected, jaw tense.
“There was never mention because it was not common knowledge. Only Arianna, Ronan and myself knew the truth of Willa’s heritage.”
I swallowed. Hard.
“My father…is a Wizard?” Was that why Lucian had seemed so smug about my mother approving of Underworlder’s, because she’d been having a relationship with one? But that couldn’t be it. He hadn’t mentioned my father at all in our conversation. Evanore must be right in that he doesn’t know.
“When Arianna and your father met and fell in love, they knew their relationship would never be accepted. For years they kept it hidden and met in secret, until Arianna became with child. Fearing repercussions from the Light Council, Arianna left Ronan and returned to the light to carry out her pregnancy.” Evanore grew wistful as she remembered events of long ago.
“And nobody from the Council knew?” Braeden asked, slightly dazed by the information.
Evanore shook her head. “No, only myself, and only because Arianna needed special healing rituals performed on a nightly basis to ensure both the Lightkeeper and Wizard Magic flowing through Willa’s veins would hold steady.”
“If they were so in love then why didn’t they stick together? Why didn’t he come for my mother?” Why didn’t he come for me is what I really wanted to ask, but I kept it to myself. My head was spinning, and had I not already been sitting down, I probably would have fallen over.
“Arianna refused him, even when he began to invade her dreams at night. Do not think ill of your parents, Willa. Not having Ronan by her side during her pregnancy, and then your birth, was especially difficult for your mother. She nearly died from the heartache.” Her voice grew soft. “The only thing that kept her going those many months was the knowledge that she would soon have you to care for, and she very much looked forward to meeting you. It was shortly after you were born when she decided she was unable to be parted from Ronan any longer.”
Something clicked in my mind. Of course. “That’s why she started the Alliance, to prove that not all Underworlder’s were bad.”
Evanore nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes. Arianna knew there were Underworlder’s who would share her ideal of coexisting societies, and with Ronan’s help, she was able to pull together quite a large number of them.”
Her words were like icy fingers circling my heart.
“If everyone was
working so hard to forge this so-called Alliance, then why didn’t anyone step up and say anything when they tried her for treason? Why didn’t my father do something? They just let her die,” I choked on the last word, bitterness swirling through me.
“The trial was held in Council quarters. Underworlder’s are incapable of setting foot there. It’s on sacred ground. There was no way for your father to reach your mother in time, something they both understood would be a possibility should their relationship come to light. In the end, Ronan remained silent.”
My eyes narrowed, fury setting in. “That’s total crap. If this Ronan really loved my mother, he should have done everything in his power to save her, not just turn over and take it. He didn’t fight for her, and he sure as heck didn’t fight for me.”
Evanore’s face tightened. “But he did fight for you, Willa. By keeping his silence, he ensured no one would discover the twin magical abilities flowing through your veins, and you would be assured sanctity within the Council.”
I snorted. “What? My dad isn’t powerful enough to keep me safe on his own? Sounds like a cop out to me.”
Braeden covered my hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you’re angry, Willa, but do not judge others by things we know nothing about. There are reasons for everything we do, Wizards are no different. If your father felt it best to keep his silence and bow out of your life, then perhaps that was the best option.”
I gritted my teeth, jerking my hand out from underneath his. How could he just sit there and say that? I have a father who was alive and apparently couldn’t be bothered with the fact that he has an almost twenty-year-old daughter who probably could have benefited from having a father in her life growing up. And I was just supposed to be okay with that?
“Listen, I appreciate they had a lot going on at the time, what with the forbidden romance stuff and all, but letting him off the hook for abandoning me is a lot to swallow. He could have told me he was alive. I grew up without knowing my mother. It would have been nice to have someone other than my aunt telling me about her. Having a dad in the picture might have helped.” I rose to my feet to leave. I’d heard just about enough for one day.