Page 69 of Contested Crown

Did they all come to House Morrison with such few possessions that two people could fit everything they owned in a single box?

Then again, I thought of the small wooden box still stored in my duffel bag. If I had to make a choice, if I had to choose one thing to take with me, it would be that box. That would be my entire life.

In the center of the room, I cocked my head, listening. No one was on the floor above us. Even if people were sleeping on the third floor, that still left two empty floors. Where was everyone?

Cade was standing next to one of the bunk beds, frowning down at it. When I came up beside him, I saw what had him concerned. The wooden frame was stained with magic, the same scarring that had left the king’s house destroyed after Cade had lost control of his powers.

Whatever was happening with these people, it was bad. Worse, the scarring was in four different colors.

“Maybe it’s just from four different initiates,” I suggested.

Cade looked at me, brows pulled together, the frown on his face more puzzled than angry. I grimaced. I didn’t believe it either, but the alternative was horrifying.

Reaching down, I tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, the soft fabric a reminder that no matter how horrifying House Morrison was, they could still provide for him better than I could. They were performing whatever monstrosity was going on here, but at least he could live in the luxury he was accustomed to.

With me, all he had was bedbug-infested hotels and a life on the run.

“Cade, come on. No one’s here.” Even with my voice quiet, it sounded like a shout in the darkness.

Frowning, I did the math. There couldn’t have been more than eight or ten medical bays in the second room where the initiate had been receiving magic, but there were over a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred initiates who hadn’t become full-fledged members of the house yet.

Where were they in the middle of the night?

A whimper cut through the darkness, and I turned, everything in me sensing weakness, sensing prey. I felt a moment of relief. My instincts were still here, even if my wolf felt further from me than ever.

Cade frowned at me, raising both hands. I tapped my ear, then pointed toward the open door. We moved out quietly, the night tense and our breathing carefully controlled.

Another sound came from the tall grove of trees. Cade’s magic wrapped around us again, shadowy and dark, some reassurance that at least our skin wouldn’t give us away.

We made our way toward the grove, which was considerably closer than I had realized. As we crept forward, I heard more muffled noises, the crack of a leaf, the whisper of someone brushing by leaves.

At the edge, Cade and I both hid ourselves behind a large tree, its trunk not quite big enough for both of us. I saw someone move, darting forward, their magic trailing behind them until they lashed it forward, a long whip that struck the back of someone I hadn’t even noticed crouching on a tree branch.

The hit struck true, and the person screamed, falling to the ground and clutching at their back. As they writhed, twisting and whimpering in pain, Elizabeth’s voice came over the clearing, as though she was talking directly into a loudspeaker.

“Congratulations, blue team. You have successfully won against team red. You may go to the dining room for your meal. Red team, return to the dorms and think on your failure.”

I heard a pop behind us and spun, arms up and ready to fight even before Elizabeth stepped through her teleportation spell.

“Prince Bartlett. You are supposed to be in bed.” In the moonlight, her expression was amused. “Come. King Morrison is expecting you.”

ChapterTwenty-Three

We arrived in rooms that were unbearably bright after the darkness of the grove. Mage lights burned warm yellow on the walls and in lamps on tables. The room was as big as Cade’s bedroom back at House Bartlett, but based on the furniture, this was a sitting room, not a bedroom.

Bookshelves lined the walls, and soft chairs were positioned near side tables. A couch sat in front of an unlit fireplace. Elizabeth’s magic deposited us with little fanfare.

The teleportation reminded me that Cade had transported us with his magic, but there had been no pain. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, but he was frowning at King Morrison, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs, barely looking up from his book at our arrival.

“Phelan said you were poking around. I thought it would take less time. In the past, consorts have always investigated things earlier.” He put the book to the side, leaning back in his chair to examine us. “Well?”

“You don’t feed the initiates every day?” There were no seats across from King Morrison. We were supposed to stand, waiting for his approval, errant schoolboys dragged before the principal after a prank gone wrong.

“We feed them every day, of course we do. However, dinner isearned. Our largess is earned.” King Morrison raised his eyebrows significantly, as though to make it clear neither Cade nor I had earned it yet.

Ignoring him, I found the nearest couch and dragged it across the floor, the feet scratching the wood, nudging it into place until it was across from King Morrison. By the time I finished, his face was white, and Elizabeth had fisted both hands at her sides.

“Stop it,” she hissed.