by Lizzy Ford
Trayern pushed her forward.
Stephanie glared at him and followed Wynn.
She stepped into a conference room with three men, one woman – and Rhyn in the corner. The half-demon winked at her, but she couldn’t help thinking his presence was ominous. Was he a visual threat to the others to behave, or did Wynn have more plans to murder people?
Apprehension and dread filled her once more. Stephanie sat down next to Wynn at the table. The others sat as well. Whereas the guests at dinner had been impossible to read, the four people at the table were understandably anxious.
Wynn glanced at Rhyn and indicated one of the men.
Rhyn moved without question and escorted the man out.
Whatever secret Wynn had read, it was bad enough to earn the man a death sentence.
No one spoke, and Stephanie’s throat was almost too tight to breathe. Her eyes were on her father. How could he ever believe her of being capable of calm, calculated murder, even if it was for the sake of their people?
“I want lists of everyone in your clans who betrayed me,” Wynn said to the three remaining. “If these lists are provided, I won’t feel the need to wipe out your entire clans.”
Willing the people to do what Wynn said, Stephanie also knew she’d never be able to threaten people with the unnatural calm Wynn did.
“In case you feel the need to leave someone off your list, I’m already aware of the traitors,” Wynn added. “Should you miss a name, or purposely leave one off, you’ll follow in the footsteps of your former leaders. But before you’re beheaded, I’ll execute another ten members of your clan for every name omitted while you watch.”
Holy fuck. Stephanie was as scared as the three new clan leaders in front of her. When Wynn wanted to be, he was terrifying. Her mind raced as she contemplated how she would handle the situation.
It was impossible without understanding the dynamics of the clans and their relationships with her family. She couldn’t determine if the traitors were capable of negotiating for their causes or determined to overthrow the Council, no matter what.
“You have until sundown,” Wynn finished. “Dismissed.”
The three all but ran out of the room, and Stephanie didn’t blame them.
She stared at Wynn. No words would form.
“You’re welcome,” Wynn said with a glance at her.
“We’re long past the point where that’s appropriate,” she replied.
“Have it your way.” Wynn stood. “We’re visiting Kris next. He hid something from me that I want back.”
Stephanie didn’t want to know what, or why, or how long she’d be in the creepy catacombs. She was itching for a break after the stressful morning.
“What will you do to the others who betrayed you?” she managed, trailing him.
Wynn didn’t answer.
“Will you consider pardoning those who may have been caught up in things?”
“You’re advocating accidental treason?” he asked.
Trayern laughed.
“Sometimes people are told to do things they don’t understand for reasons that aren’t shared with them,” she explained. “They shouldn’t be punished for it without a trial of some sort.”
“They will be held accountable for their actions.”
“Not everyone is like you, Wynn,” she said in frustration. “Not everyone controls every part of their day and manipulates everyone they meet. Not everyone is cognizant of the far-flung consequences of a tiny little choice. Maybe they wanted us to be fairer about how we handle petitioners or wanted better representation or sided with the traitors for a good reason. They shouldn’t be murdered for that. There are no surprises for you, but for normal people, they’re generally always doing the best they can and trying to improve their lives in what ways they can control.”
Wynn halted, tense. Stephanie barely stopped in time to avoid running into him.
“There’s a misconception that I somehow am not doing the best I can, that only those around me are capable of reaching a certain, albeit often disappointing, level of behavior, and I, somehow, do not have my own limits,” he said. Distant anger burned in his gaze.
She stared at him, startled by the heat in his tone.
“I do the best I can given who I am. I may not always make the right choices, but I do accept responsibility for my own actions. I don’t expect anyone in my life to act differently,” he said.
“You can’t dictate how someone else behaves.”
“I can enforce it.”
“No, you can’t!” she exclaimed. “Or maybe you can, but you shouldn’t. You’ve created a world where everyone is terrified of you. Yes, they might act the way you want them to around you, but all you’re doing is delaying the inevitable. You’re feeding a volcano and one day, it will erupt! Why else do you think four clans were willing to betray you? I read their fears. They all knew what you’d do to them if they were caught, but they took the chance anyway.”
He was silent.
“You have limits, too, and maybe mercy and compassion are two of those limits. But you are brilliant and logical. If you can’t show mercy or compassion, then are you capable of seeing they are tools that should be used in some situations?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I am not.”
Speechless, Stephanie realized she hadn’t considered the idea Wynn couldn’t show mercy. Andre’s claim that their father originated from a different era echoed in her mind. What kind of world had Wynn come from where he didn’t experience or understand basic empathy? Kindness?
“You are capable of love. You love your family. It’s twisted but you do,” she reasoned, grappling with the depths of Wynn’s dysfunction.
“Love?” He raised an eyebrow. “I respect my duty to my family, which is why all of them are alive, except for the two who crossed Darkyn.”
“Some part of you recognizes that your methods aren’t going to move the society forward, or you wouldn’t want someone like me to lead. You know I’m compassionate. You said so in your speech,” she continued. “There’s more to you than duty. You do love us.”
“Duty is all that matters. Love is wasted energy.”
“Love is the only worthwhile meaning to do anything! If you don’t love your people, then what the hell are you doing in charge?” she snapped. “Love means putting someone else’s interests above your own and wanting to see them happy and growing. It’s about working through issues and not throwing them in the dungeon or murdering them because they didn’t meet your expectations, because expectations have no place in love at all. It’s about the greater good of the relationship. Sometimes you compromise what you want so both of you are better off together. If you don’t do what you do for love, then why do anything at all?”
“Duty will always trump love,” he said.
“It shouldn’t. I can guarantee you that one day, love will trump duty.”
“It sounds tedious and dreadful,” he replied.
“God! Talking to you is like beating my head against a cement wall! I don’t know why I do it!” she cried.
To her surprise, Wynn smiled.
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“A little,” he admitted.
“Here I thought you didn’t have a fucking sense of humor!”
“We aren’t the same person, Stephanie. We aren’t capable of the same things.”
“Everyone is capable of caring for someone else, Wynn. Sometimes, I’m convinced you’re a psychopath, and sometimes, I think there’s more to you. A psychopath would let me take my chances with the four clans or not bother training me at all. A psychopath wouldn’t be capable of caring about duty to something greater than himself,” she said. “You care. I know you do.”
“If you insist,” he said.
“Maybe you’re the one who can’t see what you feel.” She released a breath of exasperation. “It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s Karma. She deserves better treatment than how y
ou treat the rest of your family.”
“That is not your concern.” This was spoken in his cold tone.
“You interfered in my relationship with Fate!” she returned. “If there’s anyone who deserves the best of you, it’s her. If you can’t break through this Wynn-knows-all-duty shit, you don’t deserve someone who loves with all her heart and soul the way she does. She will wither and die if you don’t learn real quick how to care for someone else.” Fed up with trying to hold a frank conversation with him, Stephanie brushed past him and began walking.
Trayern trailed her. She didn’t care if Wynn did or not; she knew their destination.
“Karma,” Trayern murmured. “Interesting.”
“I know what you’re doing, asshole. Collecting information on our weaknesses and strengths.”
“Darkyn didn’t send me here for the company or food.”
If Trayern was representative of demons in general, Stephanie had no idea how Deidre remained sane living with Darkyn.
She continued walking through the castle and into the catacombs. She didn’t stop until she reached Kris’ cell. Rather than direct the guard to open it, she waited.
Wynn joined her several minutes later. Stephanie studied him discreetly. She held out for some evidence her words had penetrated his thick shell.
If they did, he gave no sign. He appeared as stoic and detached as ever. He entered Kris’ cell and closed the door behind him.
Stephanie wanted to scream. Instead, she leaned against the wall to wait.
The doors to the cells that once held Rhyn and Kiki yawned open. If nothing else, Wynn had seen fit to release two of his sons. Stephanie wanted to believe it was because he had some tiny flame of compassion that Karma could stoke into a fire.
Why do I give him the benefit of the doubt? She didn’t know except that it was hard to give up on the father she’d always wanted, even if that father was Wynn. The harsh patriarch held all the pieces to this puzzle, and she couldn’t penetrate his brain to understand what he was doing and why.
Trayern flipped a knife in the air, distracting her from her thoughts.
“What’s your story?” she asked.
He ignored her.
“How does Darkyn trust you if you fucked up?” she rephrased.
He caught the knife and looked at her.
“When Wynn tried to kill me, you were afraid of fucking up twice, because Darkyn wouldn’t let you live this time. How is it he trusts you?”
For a moment, she didn’t think her fanged babysitter was going to answer.
Trayern studied her briefly. “If warranted, Darkyn gives second chances to those he can’t replace, after an extended visit to the bowels of Hell where we learn what happens if we fail twice.”
“That sounds awful,” Stephanie said. She found it impossible to pity any creature who fed off humans. “Why are you irreplaceable?”
“I’ve served him since we were hatched.”
She started to laugh then stopped. “You’re his friend?”
Trayern growled. “Demons don’t have friends.” He all but spat the last word. “He’s my master. I serve him at his will, and I possess skills he finds useful. I have failed him once since time began, and I will not fail him again.”
“You almost did,” she pointed out.
“I saved your life, half-breed.”
Stephanie was quiet. She’d fallen unconscious after Wynn stabbed her. Her last memory was of Trayern trying to stop the bleeding while Wynn looked on.
“I was directed not to interfere, but you gave me no choice.” The way the demon looked at her, he blamed her for being stabbed.
“Did my mother appear after Wynn stabbed me?” she asked.
“Not before you would’ve bled out.”
Stephanie folded her arms across her chest.
“I stopped the bleeding, and Wynn healed you,” Trayern continued. “Your mother appeared soon after.”
I shouldn’t have asked, she thought, disturbed by the role everyone played that night. It never should have come to the point where her father stabbed her, a demon saved her, and her mother was outed as a goddess.
“I couldn’t stop the bleeding with pressure. Want to know how hard it is to dig into a stupid half-breed’s chest and hold an artery closed when you haven’t fed in weeks?” Trayern lifted his hand in front of her face, and his black nails lengthened. They resembled sharp talons. “I know only three demons with enough discipline not to dig until they found your heart. Heart blood is the sweetest.”
“I understand!” Stephanie pushed his hand away, sickened by the thought of someone carving out her chest like she was a pumpkin. “I don’t need to know more.”
With a smile, Trayern began tossing his knife again, signaling the end of their discussion.
Stephanie watched the talons on his hand return to long fingernails, unsettled by the reminder of the monster assigned to her. She’d grown accustomed to his surly presence but she often forgot what he could do to her and anyone around her, if he chose to or if he weren’t the disciplined creature he claimed to be.
Wynn emerged from Kris’ cell. Without looking at her, he strode down the hallway.
“Where to next?” she asked, assuming she’d be shadowing him the entire day.
“War chamber followed by a meeting with a deity harassing Immortals.”
“Sounds good,” she murmured. The more she experienced what it meant to lead, the more she realized she wasn’t remotely prepared to take over according to his timeline.
No one, even Andre, could shed insight into Wynn’s rush to turnover power, and he wasn’t revealing the truth to anyone. No part of her believed the timing to be coincidence or for a benevolent reason.
Wynn was plotting something, and she had to assume it was bad.
She was about to oversee the Immortal society; she couldn’t risk being blindsided by something crazy during her first week in charge. She’d gone to the Oracle at the Sanctuary at one point to learn about Fate. Would the Oracle be able to shine some light on Wynn and his sudden plan to turn over power in a day?
Twenty-Two
Filled with a combination of rage and hurt, Karma forced herself to go to Wynn’s bedchamber when dark fell. Her hope he wasn’t present was dashed the moment she stepped foot in his room.
He glanced up from across the chamber, where he stood, expecting her.
She found herself falling into his eyes again and looked away. “I’m here. And now I’m leaving,” she snapped. She spun.
“Wait.”
She obeyed, even when she didn’t want to. She willed herself not to breathe in his scent, or notice his warmth, or remember what it felt like for their hot skin to slide along one another’s.
If he touched her, she’d do whatever she had to for him to fuck her. Frustrated to the point of wanting to scream, Karma couldn’t convince herself to leave.
Wynn’s steps were silent. He paused beside her.
Overly aware of his nearness, it took every ounce of will power for her not to reach out to him. One touch, and she’d satisfy the deep ache inside her.
One touch, and she’d never leave his arms.
Wynn held out the journal she’d attempted to steal three nights before. “You can give it to whoever is extorting you.”
She accepted it, not expecting the gesture.
“I removed the spells, so he can read it.”
“You already know who it is.” She almost sighed. He was always ahead.
“Raphael.”
She turned the journal to read the spine. Her heart sank.
Wynn
From all the tomes and journals in Wynn’s collection, Raphael had requested this one.
Karma met Wynn’s gaze. Heat and sexual tension filled the air between them. “You don’t have to,” she said and handed it back. “It’s my problem to deal with.”
“We had a deal,” Wynn responded softly.
Just when she thought he’d touch her, he moved awa
y, towards the fire, his back to her.
“What’s in this?” she asked, dread in her stomach.
“Does it matter?”
I don’t want to hurt you. She answered silently. “This is what you mean by vulnerability,” she said, anger stirring within her. “I won’t prove you right by taking it.”
“Do what you will.” The words were spoken with the emotional detachment she hated.
Karma closed her fingers around the spine. She turned to leave but stopped, unable to tolerate his cold indifference or to leave things where they were. She was never one to hold back her emotions.
“Don’t do this, Wynn,” she said.
He glanced towards her.
“I know who you are beneath this.” She waved at him. “I know you do feel. I know you’re as good as you are bad.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.”
“I saw your soul!” she snapped. “You won’t convince me you aren’t who I believe you to be. I know how deeply you feel. Can’t you just … see me like I see you?”
“You let your emotions control you. You’re dangerous to yourself and others and a vulnerability to me.”
The barb was meant to push her away – and it hurt badly. She innately understood how well he purposely sealed himself off from the world, except during the two nights with her. She wanted what could have been impossible: for him to want her, to view her not as a weakness but as a partner.
“Dangerous and a vulnerability,” she mused. “At least I try instead of hiding.”
“Hiding,” he repeated and faced her. “That’s what you think I’m doing.”
“I know it is,” she said, sensing she’d once more witnessed some part of him he didn’t want her to see. “By not allowing anyone in, you make it so no one can understand who you are. It might be safe, and it might be what you’re used to, but it’s also cowardly.”
A spark of fire lit in his eyes. “Because torching the world in order to feel is brave?”
“You may survive, but you don’t really live, Wynn!” she exclaimed. “You take no risks in any part of your life, and you refuse to allow yourself to connect with anyone else. Caring for someone is brave. It hurts. It’s risky. But it’s also the only thing that makes us better people. So yes, I’d rather torch the world and experience it, even the pain, than hide!”