Shattered Heir (Broken Gods Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  “I hope you guys are hungry,” she muttered as she laid the rolled-up knives and forks in front of each of them in turn. When she came around to Rhea, she tossed hers quite harshly and Rhea had to catch it before it fell off the edge of the table. “And I hope you brought your wallets,” she mumbled again, more quietly this time, as she turned and walked away.

  Rhea raised her eyebrow as she watched the girl walk back to the kitchen. “She does not look impressed.”

  Keaven laughed and shook his head. “No, she does not. Which is quite confusing, as we are all indeed quite impressive.” He waggled his eyebrows at Rhea before turning his attention back to his rolled cutlery, his eyes focused as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He carefully unrolled the napkin, letting the fork and knife tumble onto the table. He then picked up his knife and inspected his reflection in it, seemingly impressed with what he saw.

  Rhea returned her gaze to Grayson, who sat in silence, observing her. “Well?”

  Grayson drew in a deep breath and stretched out his neck before speaking. “Things aren’t like they used to be in the Otherworld,” he finally said.

  Rhea pushed her hair from her eyes, nodding slowly. “I remember. The night that I left, I’d never seen things so bad.”

  Grayson slowly shook his head. “No, Rhea. You don’t understand. Things have gotten much worse.”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Rhea looked up at him with a baffled expression. “How can it get worse? The night I left… the night my mother died…” She swallowed hard, pushing the memory into the farthest dredges of her mind that she possibly could. “The night my mother died, the whole world went dark. It was complete chaos, and I’d never seen so much death and hatred in one place. Our world was hardly recognizable.”

  Grayson considered her a moment before nodding. “Yes, that night was one of the worst nights of my life,” he said. He tossed his head to the side, swinging his dark gray hair from his eyes but it fell back down in front of his face anyway. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep it out of his vision as he let out another slow breath. “But what happened after you left, it’s hard to even explain. It’s as if the whole entire Otherworld lost its identity. People started turning on each other, each race determined to become the most powerful, the most dominant. The gods were no longer thought of as the great ruling race that they once were. Everybody wanted a stab at the throne, but rather than challenging Aeris, they challenged each other. I guess everyone thought that, if they took out everyone else, there’d be no one else but themselves to claim the throne.”

  Rhea’s mouth hung open and she swallowed hard. “But there would be no one left.”

  Grayson nodded. “Exactly.”

  “So, it was war?”

  He nodded again. “So to speak, yes. And it was all playing into Aeris’s plan. All he had to do was sit back and watch as the entire world took each other out.”

  “It’s genius in a dark and twisted way,” Keaven added. “Let the people deal with themselves so he’s free to rule uninterrupted. Reminds me of a game I once played a few years back called—”

  “Not now, Keaven,” Taelor yawned, nodding his head toward Grayson. “Big gray over there looks like he’s about to chop your head off.”

  A raging storm brewed behind the gargoyle’s eyes, and Rhea could have sworn the markings over his shoulders darkened. She shook her head, her eyebrows knitted together in tight concern. “Surely people realize that’s not the way to overthrow the king? How long has that been going on?”

  Taelor sat forward, his eyes finally returning to their normal intense gaze. “It hasn’t stopped, Rhea. The entire world is at war, and the only thing that will stop it is having the rightful heir on the throne.”

  “And who do you suppose that is?” Rhea gaped at him, unable to stop her head from shaking side to side in frustration.

  Taelor pulled his knees up so he was standing, crouched on his chair, his fingertips running along the length of the table as he scrunched his eyes in concentration. “I know you deny your heritage, Rhea, but you are the only one who could restore peace to the realm. You’re the only one who could put a stop to all this. If people could see that you have returned —”

  “Stop!” Rhea pushed herself up from the table, her body held in rigid rage as she stood and glared down at him. “I don’t know how many times I have tell you this, but I’m not that person anymore. I’m no longer daughter of Aeris, the evil God King. Besides, you said he’s dead. There’s no one to be an heir to anymore, anyway.”

  “Exactly,” Grayson said in his cool, commanding tone. “The throne sits vacant for the first time in centuries. Your uncle so far has the strongest claim, as he was the one to finally overthrow your father, but there are many who do not wish for him to take the throne. It has been a constant battle between himself and the other races, both between those who want to see themselves on the throne, and those who still hold a glimmer of hope that you may return.”

  Rhea pushed her chair back and began pacing the small space between the table and the back wall. She ran her fingers along the rough surface of the brick, lingering momentarily on a torn poster advertising an Elvis concert from decades before. “And what about those who were sent to kill me?”

  Grayson folded his hands on the table, looking up at her with serious eyes. “So long as you live, Aelon will not stop sending assassins to kill you. He is not the rightful heir to the throne. He holds no official claim so long as you are alive, and everybody knows that.”

  Rhea ground her teeth and turned back toward Grayson. “And would my uncle ruling be so terrible?”

  Arry burst out laughing at her words. Rhea turned to him, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. “What? Surely no one can be as evil as my father.”

  “The number of bodies your uncle left massacred in the streets just to get to your father is too high for me to count,” he said, whistling silently to himself at the memory. His eyes darkened and he leaned forward, the emerald greens of his irises reflecting the flickering overhead light. Rhea noticed small gold flecks sparkling within the sea of green. “Aelon has no intention of repairing our world. He simply wants the throne for his own power, and you can be sure that he’ll continue where your father left off. Taelor is right, the world won’t see peace until the rightful heir sits on the throne.”

  Rhea sat back down in her chair, holding her head in her hands. She ground her teeth together in concentration, desperate to come up with a solution that would abdicate her from her duties as Aeris’s daughter, while still seeing their world restored to peace. She had no hope of maintaining her life in the human realm so long as these wars continued, she knew that much.

  It ate away at her insides knowing that the Otherworld was no longer a place of peace, but a place of darkness where no one was safe. She may deny her destiny, but that didn’t change the fact that royal blood ran through her veins. She wanted to see her world saved, but she needed to find a way to do so without putting herself on the throne. There had to be a solution.

  Rhea was pulled from her reverie when the waitress returned, kicking chairs and tables out of her way in ungraceful movements as she brought their food to them on a large tray. She was followed by three kitchen staff, each in greasy white aprons, holding plates filled with every type of food imaginable. They left the spread out on tables that had been pushed together in front of Rhea and her group, and the sight made Rhea’s eyes grow wide.

  Rhea’s stomach growled again as she looked down at the food, her mouth beginning to water. “Whoa.”

  “Bon appétit,” the waitress drawled as she rolled her eyes, turning from them and following the others back out of the room. She hadn’t bothered asking if they wanted anything else, but Rhea figured after ordering the entire menu, it was kind of a pointless question.

  “This is freaking amazing,” Keaven beamed. He pulled a plate with a cheeseburger toward himself and sniffed, an expression of longing across his bright
eyes. He then pushed the plate away and pulled the next toward him, taking another sniff.

  “So, you really can’t eat at all?” Rhea finally asked him.

  Keaven shrugged and smiled at her. “No, not really. It’s not like my body really digests things, anymore, being in a state of undead, and all that.” He waved his hand haphazardly in the air as he spoke. “Well, apart from, uh, you know…”

  Rhea raised her brow and watched him. Vampires drank blood, but they had been banned from consuming the blood of other magical creatures and humans alike for centuries. It was written into the old laws. At least, it was before her father took rule. He had allowed them to feed on anything, but most of the vampire clans had refused and held on to the old ways. She imagined how his people fed now, given that the whole world seemed to be at war.

  “So, what do you feed on?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, but given the circumstances, she was curious.

  “This,” he said. He pulled the small sack, sealed around the edges, from his inner jacket pocket. He tore a hole in the top corner with his sharp fang and squeezed the thick substance into his root beer. When he caught Rhea’s shocked expression, he smiled and shrugged. “It’s synthetic. I got the idea from a videogame. Does the trick.”

  Rhea shook her head and laughed. “Videogame? How did you get your hands on a video game in the Otherworld?”

  Roan laughed loudly, leaning forward on his elbow on the table as he shook his head toward Keaven. “You’d be amazed what this kid can do,” he said, his voice impressed and a smile on his face. “His ability to work with technology and his weird obsession with your human world is basically a magic of its own.”

  Rhea sighed. She wasn’t even going to ask. They had more pressing things to discuss and video games really didn’t take precedent. She turned back to Grayson and bit her lower lip, contemplating what she needed to know. “Okay, so. Tell me about Aelon.”

  The smell of the hot food filled Rhea’s nose and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. It had been ages since she’d had a hot meal, yet somehow, she had lost her appetite.

  Grayson shrugged. “Not much to say, really. He was finally the one strong enough to take out your father. He is claiming the throne, but most people deny him. We don’t know how long that’ll go on, though, and if we don’t do something about it now, he might end up being the next king of the Otherworld.”

  “And you’re sure that’s a bad thing?”

  Grayson nodded. “Nearly as bad as having your father on the throne.”

  “Maybe worse,” Taelor said. “Your father ensured the destiny of the realm, pretty much setting it up in a state perfect for the next ruler to just pick up where he left off. There’s not much left and people are dying. Aelon would be proud King of the dead, if he has his way.”

  Rhea shook her head, rubbing her temples with her thumbs. A hard headache had started to set in, and a deep pressure built behind her temples. “I have no interest in taking the throne. I’m sorry, but your trip here has been a waste of time.”

  She pushed the french fries around on the plate in front of her with her fork. Despite being starved, she had no interest in eating. Her stomach was in knots and the idea of food made her nauseous. She just wished she could go back to the life she had built in Detroit when everything was simpler, and her only concern was staying warm and scrounging for scraps.

  “You must understand the severity of the situation,” Taelor said, chewing on something that resembled thin strips of carrot. Elves were vegetarian by nature. They were a peaceful race that coexisted with animals, honoring them as friends, not food. Rhea had always respected their lifestyle, though it never stopped her from appreciating a nice steak if it were presented to her.

  “You should eat,” Grayson said, pushing the plate of fries and chicken strips closer toward her.

  She glanced down at the food, then back up to him and shook her head. “Not hungry.”

  Grayson practically growled; a deep, low sound emitting from within his chest. “You’re starving and weak and look like you’re about to die of malnourishment. Eat, or I’ll force one of those potato stick things down your throat.”

  Rhea pressed her lips together and suppressed a laugh. She then tentatively picked up a French fry and held it in front of her face. “You mean this potato stick thing?”

  Grayson raised an eyebrow and nodded, fury behind those stormy eyes of his. Rhea smiled and threw the fry at his face. The greasy stick bounced off his nose and onto the table in front of him.

  Grayson’s shoulders hunched up, rigid in shock as he stared at her, an expression she couldn’t quite recognize flashing across his face. They sat there, staring at each other for a long minute, unblinking and daring the other to speak. The tension built high in the room and Rhea could feel the energy prickle against her skin.

  A loud bang sounded as Arry slammed his fist against the table and burst out laughing, easing the tension in the room as the rest of the table let out a slow laugh as well.

  Even Grayson’s eyes softened, as he picked up the fry and took a bite. “This actually isn’t bad,” he said, then pulled the plate from Rhea in front of himself and began chowing down on the food.

  Rhea let out a laugh and shook her head, reaching toward a salad across the table. That was likely all she could stomach, considering the confused state of her body and mind. She dumped the small dish of what looked like balsamic dressing on the lettuce and mixed it together with her fork. She nibbled on a small piece of cucumber as she sat and watched her guardians eat.

  She was right earlier in assuming that it would cost a small fortune to keep these guys fed. Apart from Keaven, of course, but he seemed to be thrilled with his weird concoction of synthetic blood and root beer. Her stomach lurched as she watched him sip through his straw, happy as a kid in a candy shop.

  She turned her attention back to Arry, who looked to be in a confused state between laughing and chewing and swallowing his burger, forced concentration evident in his eyes. She shook her head as she watched his delighted expression, wondering if he had ever had a bad thought go through his head. The soft creases around his eyes and lips suggested he spent most of his time laughing things off as if they were nothing.

  Roan was particularly quiet, hunched over the table and shoveling large amounts of food into his mouth with both hands. He was the largest of all them, his shoulders wide and his muscles heaving. She imagined he ate quite a lot to maintain that lion-like physique. He held a cheeseburger in one hand and a chicken wing in the other, and took turns shoveling both into his mouth. Rhea’s jaw hung open when she saw he didn’t even pull the chicken wing bone out of his mouth when he’d finished eating, he simply chewed through the bone and swallowed. Her eyes went wide as she shook her head in disbelief. “You know you’re not supposed to eat the bones, right?”

  Roan raised his eyebrow and looked toward her for a brief moment and shrugged, then turned his attention back to his food. “Human rules, not mine.”

  Rhea laughed. “All right, then.”

  She leaned back in her chair and watched them eat, a surprisingly entertaining display. She was surprised when, after only a few short minutes, every plate on the table had practically been licked clean.

  “You guys were hungry,” she said, impressed

  “Fighting takes a lot outta ya.” Arry winked.

  “Speaking of fighting,” Rhea said, leaning forward onto the table. “Are you guys okay? It looked like you took quite the beating.”

  Taelor nodded. “Usually a group of elves and fae like that would be no match for us, but they were equipped with something we weren’t prepared for. Took us a bit by surprise.”

  Rhea raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Grayson shrugged. “We’re not entirely sure, but their magic wasn’t natural. Even Roan had trouble holding them back.”

  Roan grunted and licked his fingers, shrugging. “I had ’em, Rhea just didn’t give me enough time to
finish ’em off.” He winked at her, causing her to blush. He smiled, his amber eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Oh, please,” Keaven grinned. “They had you beat. You’re lucky the princess you’re sworn to protect saved your ass.”

  Everyone at the table laughed apart, from Grayson.

  “Queen,” he corrected.

  Everyone went silent and turned to him and then directed their gazes to her. She looked down, unable to meet their eyes.

  Eager for anything to busy herself with, she reached over to Roan’s arm, tracing her fingers along a long line of bruises and scrapes from the fight. Closing her eyes, she laid her hand gently over his arm. Harnessing the natural healing abilities she’d inherited from her fae mother, she directed it all into Roan’s arm, feeling the pulse of power as it slithered over his skin and into his wounds, slowly knitting together the torn skin and mending the bruises along his forearm.

  Only when she was sure he was completely healed, she pulled away and forced herself to glance up at Grayson. All eyes were locked on her, expressions of curiosity and compassion across their faces. She swallowed a lump in her throat and held her hands tightly together, fidgeting with her thumb in a nervous gesture.

  She hadn’t used her healing magic in some time. It made her feel good, connected to her mother like she hadn’t felt in years. She directed her attention toward the other guardians, but they all looked fairly unscathed.

  “I’m no queen,” she whispered. “Not now, not ever. I made that decision long ago, and I’m not going back.”

  Arry faltered, the sparkle in his eyes dulled as his smile fell. “So, what? You’re just going to abandon your people? Abandon your world?”

  That took Rhea aback. She blinked a him, her heart aching as it thumped heavily in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words came out dry. She was overwhelmed by a sadness, looking into those heartbroken eyes of his. Finally, she spoke. “No.”