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My chest tightens at the admission falling effortlessly from Burton’s lips, while the actual words he uses to describe the man I call my father confuse me. Loving, caring, giving? My father? I think not.

I don’t remember anything but a dismissive man who was hard and cold toward his family. The stormy night I left with my mother will forever be etched into my mind. Not a single hint of care, love, or selflessness present.

Zane squeezes my hand and I turn to glance at him. I can sense his need to make sure I’m okay, so I offer a simple nod, trying to focus on anything else these fuckers might reveal.

Burton stands, swiping a hand down his face before he comes to a stop in front of Sebastian again. “The second I learned what powers your sister could wield, the fear your father had, the good he wanted for her, I laid all that to rest before he even left my presence. I’ve bided my time, waited, and now everything is mine except the ruby and the necromancer under my thumb.”

What does he mean by “the good he wanted for her”? For me? What good could have come my way?

“You’re boring me with talk of a girl I don’t care for and a time I don’t recall. Why don’t you just kill me already?” Sebastian grumbles, and to my surprise, his words don’t cut me in any way. I can see them for what they are—a deflection.

It earns him another strike from Fitch, a fist to the nose, and I hear the telltale sound of bone crunching from the force. He manages to catch himself on his palms, avoiding face planting on the floor as he falls sideways, and the urge to reach out to him heightens.

Fuck.

Clearly, I’m soft as hell. Softer than I care to admit, and I don’t like that quality in myself right now.

Burton throws his head back with a haunting laugh, bracing his hands on his hips as he speaks down to Sebastian. “I want an audience, someone to hear my greatness before I send you to your death.” This man is delusional. Completely and undeniably. “Don’t you wonder what all this is for?” he pushes, throwing his arms out wide. “Especially since you seem to be able to deflect my powers all of a sudden,” he hisses, that tidbit of information causing him more rage.

“You’re a crazed man with a vision no one but you understands. Trying would only be a waste of my time,” Sebastian states, and Burton swoops in, gripping my brother’s chin as he forces him to look up into his deathly stare.

“I will get vengeance for my wife, for my daughter, and I will rule as I always deserved to rule. Every realm will be mine, every civilian my soldier. I will be undefeatable, undeniable. I will be victorious,” he snarls, his voice gravelly. “The realms are already merging, and I didn’t have to move a hand to do it. I will rule, I will lead, I will conquer. And you… you will rot in Hell as I do so. Your insignificant role in my plan is no longer worth the trouble you cause.”

Burton bares his teeth with a sneer before lifting his free hand to Sebastian’s throat, and in one swift move, he snaps his neck.

TWENTY-SIX

RAVEN

Despite how much I thought I was prepared for this moment, I was truly mistaken. My hand claps over my mouth as my teeth sink into my tongue, reining back my gasp.

I’ve seen death, even before I came to Silvercrest Academy—it was everywhere in Shadowmoor—but this somehow feels different. Sure, he’s my brother, my blood, but he’s an asshole; yet he still matters.

Sure, I can’t forgive the shit he’s put me through, but the ability to stand back and watch him collapse to the floor in a heap of limbs proves far more difficult than I initially anticipated.

One of my guys squeezes my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, but it does little to quell the nausea swarming in my gut and the panic rising in my chest. I can’t turn to see who it is, either. My gaze is locked on the three men, desperate for an opening to heal Sebastian like I promised.

I have to help him. I know I do. My magic thrums through my veins so strongly that even if I were unwilling, it would still force me to my knees to aid him. My magic and I are one, but sometimes it almost feels like it has its own mind and it’s different to mine. It’s like a compulsion to heal others, to activate to save lives. It sounds dumb, but at this moment, I know we are aligned.

Burton moves first, sweeping the fur cloak dramatically as he takes a step back from Sebastian’s lifeless body. “Come, Fitch. We have much to prepare. Everything has been approved from inside The Monarchy. We’re moving faster now. With or without the ruby, we can’t stop all that is in motion.”

“The body?” Fitch asks, casting an inconvenienced glance Sebastian’s way, and my blood boils.

“Send for one of the Institute boys to get rid of him,” Burton orders with a wave of his hand, effectively dismissing the mess he’s made as he heads to the stairway without a backward glance.

Fitch follows after him like the well-trained puppet he is, but I don’t immediately move when they’re out of sight. It takes everything inside of me to fight against my magic, which pleads for me to move now, but even if I did relent, the hand on my shoulder tightens as if sensing the battle inside of me.

“We have to think this through before we move from here,” Creed states, his voice barely more than a whisper. When I turn to glance at him, I find it’s his hand on my shoulder.

“I need to heal him,” I grind out, my chest tightening with every second I remain in place. My magic has a different plan altogether.

“I know, and you will, but are you doing it here, or are we going to move to a more secure location before someone from Shadowgrim Institute arrives to get rid of him?”

Fuck. He does have a point.

Swiping my free hand down my face, I sigh, trying to ground myself so I can think clearly, but the magic pulsing through my body makes it more difficult than usual.

“We should move him,” Eldon recommends, giving me a soft smile as Brax nods, and their willingness to help me aid him calms the storm brewing in my chest.