“Don’t tell me they left the castle for this place.” I finally said, breaking the long silence.
Marcus shrugged, then he massaged his upper arm. “Out here, they can do what they want. This place has been abandoned for a while.”
After noticing his injury, I couldn’t ignore the obvious anymore. “What happened when you went to see your father?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He replied, staring at something in the distance. “We’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”
Now I was sure. His father had forced him to fight. That was the only possible explanation. “If you want to talk about it—”
“I know,” he interrupted, lightly punching me with his good arm.
He would talk to me when he was ready. It wasn’t something I needed to stress over. All I could do was get his mind off of it. “I noticed you’ve been looking a bit sluggish lately. Old age and all.” I looked at him as if I was sizing him up. “I’ll bet I could finally beat you, for once.”
The challenge put a smile on his face. “I could have two broken arms and you still couldn’t take me out.”
“That hurts, Marcus.” I put my hand over my heart, pretending to be in pain. “You’ve scarred me for life.”
He grimaced like I had punched him in the face.
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what I had said. Marcus had never forgiven himself for removing my wings. And thanks to my scar reference, he was probably replaying it in his mind. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, man. It just slipped out.”
“It’s fine.”
Marcus and I had never talked about what went down at the fire court. Kalin mentioned more than once that she thought we needed some kind of bro-therapy. I rejected the idea because I had forgiven him. Marcus had no control over his own body. My mother forced him to mutilate me. How could I possibly hold him accountable for his actions? I assumed Marcus would eventually figure that out on his own. Judging by the pain on his face, Kalin was right. “Maybe now is a good time to talk about what happened.”
“What’s there to say? I’m the reason you can no longer fly. I tore off your wings, scarring you for life. I tasted your blood in my mouth.” He lowered his head. “I almost killed you.”
This was pure insanity. After more than a year, he still blamed himself? I had to put an end to this. “You were under my mother’s control.” Marcus wouldn’t look at me. “I watched you try to fight back. I don’t blame you for any of it.”
“You don’t get it, Rowan,” he said, voice louder than usual. “It’s much easier to forget when something is done to you. But when you inflict pain on someone you care about, it’s impossible to forgive yourself.”
His refusal to let go was making me angry. The tension in my shoulders started to burn. “Actually Marcus, you did cause me pain. But not the way you think.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“The greatest pain I ever felt came when I read your letter. A letter explaining why my best friend couldn’t stand to be around me. A letter asking me not to look for you because you wanted to be by yourself.” He started to walk away, and I grabbed him by the forearm. “I would have rather died from my wounds than lose your friendship.”
We both stood silent.
Marcus took an exaggerated breath. “I’m sorry about the letter. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but clearly it wasn’t. I should’ve talked it out with you.”
I hadn’t realized how angry I was over the letter until the words came out. I had always assumed it was about the loss of my wings. But in reality, it was about Marcus walking away from me, and the year I spent wondering if we would ever speak again. “We’re both idiots.”
“Pretty much.” He agreed.
“But you can still be my wingman.” I said, smirking.
Marcus waved his hands. “No way, you can be my wingman.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s so obvious I’m Batman and you’re Robin.”
Marcus chuckled. “Aren’t you forgetting I’m older and stronger than you? I am clearly Batman.”
“Okay, okay, Batman and Robin is a bad analogy. But I’m definitely He-Man.” I started laughing. “And you’re Battle Cat.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wish you were He-Man.”
“Don’t get your fur in a bundle over it.” I patted him on the back. “Battle Cat is just as important as He-Man.”
The corner of his mouth curled. “I’m starting to understand why no one likes you.”
I pretended to wipe sweat from my brow. “Being a hero comes with many burdens.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “I think I liked you better when you were unconscious.”
By the time we reached the edge of the abandoned city, the sky had darkened into night. It had become difficult to see much farther than a couple of yards in front of us. About a block away, I noticed some activity in front of a large brick building. It wasn’t in the best condition—most of the windows were shattered and there was a large hole on the side of the exterior. As we got closer, a few hounds made their way outside. Most were in their mortal form, except one.
“Be cautious with your words, Rowan. It’s easy to set them off.” Marcus warned.
This wasn’t my first time dealing with the hounds. I was well aware of the dangers. “I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s what concerns me.”
Darius stepped out of the building, pausing when he noticed us. Even in his mortal form, he stood above his pack. He wore a pair of jeans and a sleeveless white shirt that showed off his massive biceps. His muscles made most professional athletes look like horse jockeys. I glanced over at Marcus. His back was straight with his hands clenched at his sides. There was no doubt that he wasn’t expecting this meeting to go well.
My own thoughts were pretty close to his, but I couldn’t show fear. The hounds had to see me as a leader—their king. Otherwise, they’d never side with me. Rather than wait for Darius to make a move, I headed straight for him. I didn’t stop until I was right in front of him. Marcus wasn’t far behind. “I understand you were eager to meet with me, Darius.”
“I was curious. Given your past, I had my doubts you would even show up.” Darius glanced at his hounds, snickering.
He had been present when I was mutilated. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard his voice afterwards. If I was right, Darius was the one who suggested throwing me in the dungeon where I would have most certainly died. “Many things have changed since the last time we saw each other.” I said, speaking with a firm, level tone.
He crossed his massive arms across his chest. “Indeed they have. You are the one who killed Prisma. For that, I am grateful.”
My stomach tightened. Taking my mother’s life wasn’t something I was proud of. She wasn’t winning any awards for ‘best mom’, but she was still the only parent I had ever known. “You deserved your freedom long before you received it. I always said if I became king that would be my first command.”
“But you did have a chance to free us, little prince.” Darius cocked his head to the side. Little prince? He was trying to use his words to lure me into a fight. “After Prisma’s death, you should have been crowned. Instead you abandoned your court, choosing to stay in the mortal world to guard the air court princess. The same court who later attacked us, killing some of my pack.”
Had I not protected Kalin, she would’ve died in the forest before she ever reached Avalon. The war would have started much earlier and Taron would not have stopped until every fire court elemental paid for her death with their life. “I never abandoned our court. I saved many lives by protecting Kalin. That was more than I could have done sitting on a throne.”
I heard a low, growling rumble come from Darius. I doubt many argued with him. With Liana and Prisma gone, he answered to no one. The other hounds gathered closer, boxing us in. Each one breathing heavy as they prepared to shape-shift. Their natural body heat thickened the air aro
und us. With each passing moment the tension escalated. If the hounds decided to attack as a group, I would be killed within seconds—along with Marcus. But I refused to back down.
Darius bent down, settling only inches from my face. “Why did you ask for this meeting, little prince?”
Anger bubbled in my chest. I needed to stay composed, but I had reached my limit. I drew my sword from the glamoured sheath. The closest hounds let out a pained scream. A few backed away when their skin caught fire. Iron burned the hounds the same as any other elemental. I leaped back, landing in a crouching position. Pointing my sword in Darius’s direction, I said, “You may address me as Prince Rowan or King Rowan, but that will be the last time you address me as little prince. Do you understand?”
Darius began to shift into his hound form. “You made a fatal mistake coming here.”
Marcus appeared in front of me, blocking my view. Speaking to his father, he said, “Please listen to what Rowan has to say. He came to ask for your allegiance. If we return with him, he has promised to give us our freedom. And once he is crowned, you will have a seat on his council.”
Darius ignored his plea. The bones in his back shifted while the muscles in his arms and legs seemed to multiply.
“Father, please.” Marcus clasped his hands together. “I have never asked you for anything, but I am begging you to stop this. Please accept his offer.”
Darius stopped the shift, returning to his human form. I wasn’t aware a hound could do that once the transformation had started. “Very well, Marcus. But first, Rowan must agree to a test. Prove he is strong enough to lead our court.”
I nudged Marcus out of the way. “Name it,” I replied.
Darius smiled, wickedly. “I challenge you to a one-on-one battle. If you can beat me, you will have the support of my pack.”
The hounds cheered.
Before I could tell him to bring it, Marcus said, “No. There has to be another way.”
“Those are my terms.” Darius replied, dismissing Marcus with the wave of his hand.
Marcus strode over to his father. Both of them panting heaving breaths. The crowd silenced, eager for one of them to speak. “If you insist on going through with this, you leave me no choice.” A droplet of sweat trickled down Marcus’s face. “I challenge you for pack leader.”
Chapter Eight
Kalin
Mom didn’t need to say a word. It was written all over her reddened face. She was pissed. Raging like an earthquake measuring 8.0 on the Richter scale. As she paced, she rolled up the sleeves of her white button-down collared shirt. Her normally smoothed hair hung down her back in crimpy waves as if she hadn’t dried it after a shower. Many questions lingered in my mind. How did she get here and who had she been speaking with?
In my entire sixteen years of existence, I had never seen her so angry. Worst part? It was all because of me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Kalin, I am your mother. It’s my job to worry.” Mom threw her hands in the air. “And you are my child, which means you don’t get to decide what I need to know.”
Suddenly, I was making excuses like a kid who had come home with a bad report card. “I didn’t want to put you in danger. You were safer at home. I had extra knights guarding the house to make sure of it.”
“You were protecting me?” She shook her head in disgust. “You have this whole thing backwards. It’s MY JOB to protect YOU. Not the other way around.”
While Mom paced the room—saying a whole lot of something under her breath—I glanced over at Dad. He hadn’t moved one inch since he saw her. His eyes were wide while his lips were slightly parted. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing, so I nudged him with my elbow. “You could try helping me out.” I whispered.
“Sorry.” He said, jolting like I had just awakened him from a daydream. “What should I say?”
I raised my eyebrows. “How about letting her know it was your idea not to tell her. I think that would be helpful.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Tricia, much of this is my fault. I should have—”
She made eye contact with him for the first time. For a moment, her shoulders relaxed. Then a smile appeared and quickly disappeared almost like a twitch. Before I could blink, she went right back to anger mode. “Oh believe me, I blame you too.”
Dad made his way over to her, taking her hands in his. All the bitterness drained from her face. It was so obvious they still had deep feelings for one another. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s wonderful to have you here. You’re just as beautiful as I remember.” He said, massaging her palms with his thumbs. “Will you be staying?”
“I’m not sure.” Mom answered, frazzled. “My plan was to come here and strangle you both.” Appearing pained, she pulled her hands away. “But now that I’m here, I don’t know what to do.”
I cut in, grabbing one of each of their hands. “You should stay, Mom.”
In a soft tone, Dad added, “I really wish you would.”
Mom put her other hand on my cheek. “You look so grown up. I hardly recognize you.”
It was hard to believe I had only been in Avalon for two weeks. After everything I had been through, I felt like I had aged ten years. I certainly wasn’t the same person I was in the mortal world—that I was sure of. I placed both of my hands on top of hers. “It’s still me.”
Her voice turned serious. “From now on, I want to know everything. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
She softly flicked the tip of my nose. “I want to hear you promise.”
I chuckled. “Okay, okay. I promise. No more secrets.”
“Good.” She said, releasing a lazy breath. Then she turned her attention to Dad. With her hands on her hips, she asked, “Now, where will I be staying?”
Dad’s entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Anywhere you’d like.” He held out his arm for her to take. “It’s been so long since you’ve been here. How about I show you around?”
Mom hesitated.
I wanted her to spend time with him. It had always been my dream that one day they might get back together. Mom’s eyes darted back and forth between us. She definitely had more to say to me, but I could also see she wanted to go with Dad. “It’s fine, Mom. I have a council meeting I have to attend.” It was true, but I would have been happy to it blow off.
“Find me when you’re done,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “I mean it. Find me.”
Having her around never felt as wonderful as it did right now. “I promise.”
Mom slid her arm in his, letting Dad lead her out the door.
By the time I reached the stone balcony, I was surprised to find the area empty. A few glass tiki torches lined the space. The decoration made the area look more like a party than a council meeting. In the middle section, six wicker chairs were setup in a circular design. As I plopped down into one of the seats, I watched the tiki flames twist in the mountain winds. The citronella oil inside the glass gave off a scent that reminded me of the woods behind my mother’s house. It also kept the bugs away, which I was grateful for. At this time of night, they were everywhere.
I turned my head toward the entryway when I heard several voices coming up the cement stairs. One by one, the other five council members entered the balcony. Most bowed when we made eye contact, except for Samson. He simply sat in the last empty seat. Each member wore yellow robes with a tie in the middle. Once I realized they were waiting for me to speak, I asked, “Why have I been called to another emergency meeting?”
Samson smiled at me before he spoke. My stomach knotted. Whatever he was so pleased about wasn’t going to be good for me. “Your Highness, it has come to our attention that King Taron was seen in public today.”
Where was he going with this? “Yes, he was greeting some of our people. They were very excited to see him recovering so well.”
“Really?” he said. “We heard he was distressed. Several witnesses saw him struggli
ng to control the storms. Had it not been for your assistance, he may have lost control all together.”
Crap! “I’m not sure who is providing you with this information, but the situation was far less dramatic. He had put on a show for everyone and got tired. Need I remind you it has only been a week since he was found and treated for his severe injuries?”
Samson sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Yes, his injuries are severe.” He stood, addressing the group. “In fact, I don’t believe he will ever recover from them.” Every member of the council gasped. “This is a time of war. Our court cannot be seen as vulnerable. We must act in the best interest of our people.” He glared right at me. “I call for a vote of no confidence.”
The shouting began, growing louder by the second. Members loyal to Dad accused Samson of treason. Others wanted Dad brought here to defend himself against the accusations and to prove he was healing. I had the urge to take one of those tiki torches and shove it down Samson’s throat. “I would like to know your intentions. If my father were removed, the throne falls to me. I can’t imagine that’s what you want.”
“You cannot ascend to the throne.” He said, acting as if I had insulted him. “There has never been a halfling on any elemental throne in our entire history.”
This was getting worse by the minute. He wasn’t suggesting my father step down. Instead, he was pushing to remove our entire family from power. I rose, hands clenched at my sides. With venom in my voice, I said, “My father will not be removed from power, but when he does decide to step down, I will take his place. Anyone who objects should say so now.” I made a point to make eye contact with every one of them, daring them to disagree.
Jaya rose from her chair, eyes on me. “As much as I hate to say this, Samson does have a point. With your father recovering, we do appear vulnerable to the other courts. We must maintain balance at all costs.”
Fragile Reign (Mortal Enchantment Book 2) Page 5