Page 33

Chapter 33

MY EYES ARE GLUED TO the king as he claims a seat on the sofa opposite his two sons. He moves with a grace that belies his age, his stature and build just as formidable and intimidating as Aeson’s and Lorn’s. His silver suit fits impeccably. The collar on the jacket and shirt are a military nod, but the tails that turn into an attached cape and the embroidery on the arms signify his status, not that he needs the help. He could be wearing sand rags, and his regal bearing would still give him away.

I look for anything that might support my suspicions that this drake before me betrayed my father, someone he once considered kindred before having my kith slaughtered. But there isn’t a neon sign flashing guilty above his head, and I’m having a hard time seeing him as the monster I’ve made him out to be in my mind. Probably because when I look at him now, I see his two sons, neither of whom fit the profile of heartless butcher or evil plotter.

Vids from when King Noctis was younger have him looking more like Aeson. However, now the king’s hair and neat beard are a beautiful blend of white and black, making him look like a perfect mix of his two scions. His blue eyes fall somewhere in the middle of Lorn’s icy tones and Aeson’s sky blue hue, but they’re filled with a paternal warmth and pride as he takes in the two males sitting across from him.

His hard but handsome features soften as he settles into his seat and gets comfortable, crossing one knee over another and resting his elbow against the arm rest while draping the other across the back of the couch. He picks up a drink that appears to have been waiting for him on the end table, and I notice that Aeson and Lorn have matching glasses with the same large round ice cube and amber liquid.

I instantly know that I’m peeping in on a personal moment between a father and his sons and not just spying on a king and his heirs.

“An offer for my hand?” Aeson snorts, reminding me of what the king was talking about before I got distracted by his mere presence. “Even if I did fancy males, I wouldn’t look twice at that bumbling wind bag.”

Lorn chuckles and the king smiles around a sip of his drink.

“He’s still rather convinced that you and his daughter Claudelle were made for each other and, if I would only facilitate a meeting between you two, that you would see it for yourself.”

“It’s time for Cesarini to cede his chamber seat if he can’t remember that we’ve met his daughter dozens of times already,” Lorn points out, and King Noctis lets loose an amused huff and an agreeing hum.

“I believe he was just trying to get me to admit that Aeson is off the market. It seems the rumor mill has been churning away about a mysterious occupant of a certain someone’s mating suite.” The king’s smile slowly stretches, and a playful gleam alights in his eyes. “How is your little Syphon adjusting?”

Aeson releases a sound that’s half groan, half laugh. “She’s as cagey and cutting as ever.”

I narrow my gaze at the mirror. “I’ll show you cutting,” I grumble at the commander’s firelit profile.

King Noctis chuckles. “Merik was never one to mince words or pull punches. I’m glad to hear that side of him is living on through his little girl. It’ll be a treat to go toe to toe with him again, if only in spirit,” King Noctis declares, his tone wistful and fond.

An ache starts in my chest at the mention of my father, and as much as I want to condemn the king for everything, the longing in his tone falls in line with what I’ve seen from Aeson and Lorn when it comes to the loss of my loved ones.

“She definitely doesn’t pull her punches,” Aeson agrees, purposefully rubbing his jaw.

I huff out a laugh, thinking about what happened earlier in his room when I was trying to get away from him. Then I’m suddenly bombarded with what happened when I didn’t manage to escape him, and a flush crawls through me while lust starts to simmer and settle low in my stomach. It seems my attraction to the commander isn’t something I can ignore or control, even though I’m trying hard to do both.

“I take it things are going well, then?” King Noctis asks.

Aeson shrugs. “As well as can be expected for someone who doesn’t trust us and blames us for the death of their kith and kindred. I think she’s starting to nest though. She got very territorial earlier, and she took a mirror from the vaults for her room. She may not understand her instincts just yet, but she’s giving into them all the same.”

My brow furrows at that declaration, but the king’s features suddenly grow serious, and he looks over at Lorn.

“A mirror?” he asks.

Lorn nods and then out of nowhere, the king shifts until he’s suddenly looking directly at…me.

My mind stalls for a moment as we stare at one another. My heart hammers in my head, and I refuse to blink as Kathal Noctis’s intense gaze sucks me in. Instinctually, I start to lean away from the Port as though that will break his hold, and for half of a millisecond, I’m convinced that he can somehow see me. His gaze starts to blur as mine dries out. I fight the urge to look away, convinced that he’s about to reach through the mirror and pull me through. Then his stare starts to circle where I’m kneeling, and I realize he’s not actually looking at me, he’s simply studying the mirror in his office.

“Her father liked to collect them,” King Noctis mumbles almost to himself, his focus all at once thoughtful and far away.

“She mentioned that when she opened the vault. I think it was the only thing in the Crush that she felt connected to. She didn’t really seem interested in anything else, but that could have been because I was there watching. Like Aes said, she’s cagey.”

King Noctis looks lost in thought for a moment, but then he nods and turns away from the mirror. I blow out a relieved breath as soon as his attention leaves me and returns to his sons.

“I’m glad to hear she’s softening toward you,” he tells Aeson. “I know I don’t need to remind you how important it is that she accepts the claim. If she’s coming around on her own, that’s good. It means we won’t have to take more drastic measures.”

Aeson nods, and I bristle.

More drastic measures?

What in the bloody Bearing does that mean?

“I wish you had more time, son, but after her Naming, the pressure will be on for her to accept you. Once The Horde knows who and what she is, you can expect others to make a play for her. Regardless of the fact that she can’t reveal, her political influence alone will be enough to entice them. And that’s not even accounting for the ones who will want her dead. Speaking of, are we set for tomorrow?”

A ringing starts in my head, and I sit back on my heels. I knew what they were up to, encouraged it even. So why do their words feel like stones skipping across the still waters of who I am? Why does it send disappointment rippling through me? Why does it hurt?

Am I so bereft of genuine love and affection that I can’t tell when it’s counterfeit?

I exhale a barbed breath, feeling it rip me apart as it leaves my lungs.

Is Aeson Noctis that good, or am I just that pathetic? Because when Aeson kisses me, I don’t taste a lie. When he touches me, it doesn’t feel like manipulation.

My head bows under the weight of that realization. I stare at the shard of broken vase in my hands and can’t help feeling like it’s symbolic. The needy, shattered, slivers of my soul are making it entirely too easy for the Noctises to play me. All Aeson has to do is bat his lashes and whisper a few filthy words, and I come running, ready to call it more. I’m over here steeped in delusion, pretending this thing between us could be everything when really it’s as hollow and empty as I am.

I twist the shard, tracing the jagged edges with a finger.

Aeson Noctis stumbled upon the sucker of the century, and I’m barely putting up a fight.

My fist closes tightly around the broken vase until it’s cutting into my palm and blood starts to speckle the floor. I release my grip, staring at the cuts on my hand that can’t heal because I’m half of what I’m supposed to be.

But that stops now.

It’s time to embrace the truth, to see things for what they are. Maybe the Noctises didn’t slaughter my family, but it doesn’t mean they’re knights in shining armor. I need to wake up. No more fawning over pretty scions. No more benefit of the doubt. I’m going to take what I need and do it on my terms.

Fuck everything else.

What they’re saying changes nothing. I inhale a fortifying breath and focus back on the Port and the conversation happening on the other side of it. The three Noctises are discussing logistics and security. I listen and let my gaze wander, no longer focused on the scions and the king, but on where they are and how it might help me.

They’re either in the king’s office or library, judging by the desk and the wall of bookshelves behind it. I’m surprised by the variety of volumes that are on display. Physical books are rare these days. Most everything is digital, but Kathal Noctis must be a collector, because his shelves are teeming with all kinds of tomes from what I can see.

My eyes catch on a set of matching spines taking up the entirety of two shelves just behind the desk. I read Render Territory Census on several spines and then Channeler Territory Census , Thrasher Territory Census , and lastly Burner Territory Census . I go still, holding my breath as I re-read everything again. Every ounce of my attention hones in on those two shelves as I read all of the spines for a third and then a fourth time.

No fucking way.

I stare at the books, stunned and reeling. Is it possible the sorcai I’m looking for might be listed. The Relacours have burrowed even deeper into hiding as we’ve mercilessly hunted them over the last several years. But if anyone knows where they are, it would be the king.

There’s no way it’s that easy.

I warn myself. Careful not to get my hopes up. I don’t even know what years those books are for. They could be older censuses from a long time ago.

But what if they’re not?

What if they’re current records of the citizens of Drameric? What if Noctis knows where the rest of the Relacour line is hiding? What if the sorcai we’ve been searching for is listed right there in those censuses, like a treasure map just waiting to be discovered?

X marks the spot that frees the Syphons from their curse.

Eager anticipation has my heart galloping with all kinds of possibilities. I doubt it’ll be that cut and dry. Nothing in my life ever is. But it’s possible King Noctis is old school and likes physical copies of things. And it’s possible that he might have records of where the remaining Relacours are holed up. All I need is one, because where there’s one Relacour, there’s crumbs that lead to the others. And who knows, I just might get lucky and find the bloodline’s Conduit on my first go…and then it’s game fucking over.

“I don’t like using her as bait,” Aeson growls, drawing my attention back to him and the conversation he’s having with Lorn and the king.

Confusion plumes through me. He’ll claim me as a mate for political gain but draw the line at using me for bait? That doesn’t make any sense.

“I don’t like using her as bait either, but what choice do we have?” Lorn argues.

Aeson rounds on him. “She’s not yours. You don’t understand.”

I roll my eyes. Of course it’s a territorial thing. The commander doesn’t like anyone else playing with his toys. Typical fucking dragon.

Lorn’s eyes narrow into a scowl. “I know my draw to her is different than yours, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens to her just as much as you do. And last I checked, she’s not yours either,” he snaps.

“Are you challenging me?” Aeson asks, his tone eerily even and soaked in menace.

“Lorn, stop antagonizing your brother,” King Noctis commands before turning to Aeson. “No one is challenging you for your Syphon, son—not yet anyway. But Lorn isn’t wrong. We have traitors in our midst, and like it or not, Ever Tenebrae is our best bet to flush them out. I wouldn’t put her in their path if I could help it—I loved Merik too much to do that to his daughter—but the secrets of the Syphon aren’t going to stay hidden forever. She’s more at risk moving around in the dark than she would be if her existence was brought to light. Yes, it puts the spotlight on her when it comes to our enemies, but it also means she’ll have more of us looking out for her too.”

I study King Noctis for a moment. My gaze traces the touch of age in his features, the white in his hair, the strength in his countenance. I can imagine my father and him laughing over a drink, discussing their concerns about Drameric and how to best solve the problems and serve the people. I can see how Kathal Noctis would have been a good friend to Merik Tenebrae; he’s still a good friend even though my father is long gone.

Aeson drops his head and pulls in a deep breath and then another before slowly nodding. “Have we made any progress on figuring out how to help her reveal?” he asks, a hint of a growl still present in his tone like he hasn’t managed to banish it completely even though he’s trying.

I lean closer to the mirror, making sure I catch every word they’re about to exchange.

“I have some trusted sources looking into it,” King Noctis answers. “They’re going to want to bring her in and run some tests, but we’ll worry about that after her Naming.”

The ice cube in his drink clinks against the glass as he empties it in one last swallow and then sets the tumbler back down on the table.

“Now, I have to be up very early tomorrow, and you two still have another security meeting tonight. You’d best go see to your duties,” the king declares dismissively.

Both Aeson and Lorn stand up to leave, but I’m surprised when King Noctis pulls Aeson in for a hug. They embrace each other tightly, like it’s something they do often. The king whispers something into Aeson’s ear, but I can’t hear what it is before they pull away and the king starts hugging Lorn.

I fight the need to fidget, even though none of the affection is aimed at me. I’m both mesmerized and oddly uncomfortable at the exchange. The warm display doesn’t fit with any of the notions I had about the king and what he would be like, which, I suppose, tracks when it comes to the Noctises. They seem to be full of surprises, but whether that’s a good thing or bad one, I still can’t say.

The office empties, and the lights slowly dim before going out altogether. I stare into the dark Port for a long time, wondering what it would be like to be raised with the kind of love and attention I just witnessed. It’s clear that the king respects his sons. He speaks to them like they’re his equals, but he was also quick to step in when they needed guidance. They all work seamlessly together. A true team, and none of it was for show. They didn’t know they were being watched. They didn’t know every action was being dissected. This is just how they are with each other. It’s humbling, and beautiful, and I want it.

I want what they have.

I want to know a love where it’s safe to trust like that, where it’s okay to just be. One where it doesn’t matter who or what I am, because I’m no longer hunted, no longer coveted, no longer a danger to everyone around me. I want what they have, but what if the only way to get it is to take it from them? What if the only way I’ll ever know peace, is to steal theirs?

Could I do it?

Would it be worth it?

I used to be able to say yes without pause, without question, but now I’m not so sure.