Page 5

Rowen

C allum let out a heavy breath as Archer took Sierra and portaled her into our realm of Hell. "Really, brother?" He drawled. "Did you think I wouldn't notice what he was doing?"

The mask of indifference remained on my face, even though I was fuming on the inside.

My tail twitched against my will, betraying some of my inner turmoil, but Callum would probably just interpret that as an outward sign of aggression rather than the complicated mess of emotions churning beneath my obsidian eyes.

Although, being raised with him until we were close to twenty-one years old, he was the only being other than Archer that actually knew me beneath my hardened demon lord exterior. He'd seen me in moments of weakness I'd never show another soul, not even my most trusted guards.

Except Archer.

I shrugged, continuing to try and feign nonchalance while flexing my claws against my palm. "Why don't you tell me why you're here and why you've drawn my attention?" The coolness in my voice was practiced over centuries, a tool as essential to ruling as my throne.

Because I knew that he wanted to speak with me privately. That would be the only reason why he'd allowed Archer to take Sierra away without pursuing them. My half-brother never relinquished anything he wanted without purpose.

"Our mother is dead."

With one sentence it felt as if the world fell out from under me, as if the very foundations of Hell had cracked open beneath my feet. "What?" I gasped, my carefully constructed facade crumbling instantly.

Callum and I had different fathers, both royal jackasses with inflated egos and territorial streaks wider than the River Styx, but our mother was a powerful priestess and viewed as one of the most powerful magic users in all the realms. An omega the likes of which hadn’t been seen since.

She had been untouchable. Immortal, or so I'd believed.

For a brief time, she'd been in a ménage relationship with both our fathers.

It lasted all of a decade, both Callum and I were a result of the Union, but with different blood fathers.

I could still remember the way she'd sing ancient incantations as lullabies, her magic flowing through our childhood home like a gentle current.

My mother had remained with Callum's father after my father died in battle, defending their relationship and the proposed joining of our kingdoms. I still had the ceremonial blade my father had carried into his final fight—locked away where I wouldn't have to look at it. It was too painful.

The other realms couldn't stand for that union. We'd gain too much power, they feared. Although that had never been the intention. Our fathers and mother loved each other dearly—a rarity in royal circles where marriages were typically political contracts sealed with blood and magic.

Callum ground his jaw together; the gesture all too familiar—that same tense flex of muscle I'd watched a thousand times when we were younger.

"Two nights ago. An invasion trying to get to my father.

" He swallowed, pain flickering behind his pale green eyes so like his father's.

A man who had been as close to me as my own father until they left me.

"Is he?—?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavier than the chains that bound the ancient titans in the deepest pits of my realm.

"Wounded, but still alive. Barely." Callum sank down onto the bench of the picnic table behind him, his usually perfect posture crumbling. "His magic is depleted and his soul is wanting to join Mother on the other side."

I had a complicated relationship with my mother, Callum, and his father—complicated in the way volcanic eruptions are merely inconvenient.

Centuries of unspoken words, of choices made for kingdoms rather than for family.

But I would never wish any harm to come to them.

The fact I hadn't heard about the attack on the Fae realm said Callum was keeping it from going public, which meant the situation was dire indeed.

"I—" Fuck. I didn't even know what to say. Words failed me, me, who commanded legions with a whisper. I blinked up at him and blurted out the first question that came into my mind, deflecting from the raw wound of grief. "Why did you use Sierra to contact me? And how did you even know about her?"

The bastard smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, more like the grimace of someone wearing a mask that didn't quite fit.

"I've known about her since the beginning.

You weren't the only one who found her when she was thirteen.

I've been watching you and Archer with her for years.

I do commend you for keeping your hands off her for so long.

I don't know if I'd be able to do the same.

" He tunneled his fingers through his dark hair and sighed, the gesture making him look momentarily like the young royal I'd grown up alongside.

"We all know what this is all leading to. "

I narrowed my eyes on him, my tail lashing against my will. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Maybe you don't." His head cocked to the side, reminding me of a predatory bird studying its prey. "Have you consulted the future lately? I suggest you do when we part. It'll show you some very interesting things."

"Why are we here right now, Callum? You could have very easily sent a missive about Mother.

" I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to rein in my patience, my claws digging into my biceps.

These cryptic games were beneath us both in a moment like this.

And people thought I talked in riddles. Now I knew how fucking annoying it was to be on the receiving end of such deliberate obscurity.

"Because you need to be prepared for the future, brother.

The shit is about to hit the fan and we need to make sure we can work together to protect our Omega.

" He rose to his feet, power rolling off him like midnight fog.

"I'll be in touch soon. Tell Sierra I said goodbye.

Archer too." His eyes flashed wickedly before he disappeared with a pop, leaving nothing but the scent of ancient magic and unfinished business hanging in the air.

I was still muttering under my breath when I appeared back in the living room of my estate. "Fucking brother. Telling me to be prepared for the future." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, like ashes and rage.

Striding into the kitchen, I wrenched open the door and grabbed a bottle of beer, the glass cold against my palm.

Normally it would be scotch, but I needed something a bit different—something mundane to counter the chaos unfolding around me.

"And fuck you Callum she isn't 'ours'. You won't be getting close to her again.

" My tail lashed against my will, leaving a faint mark on the marble floor.

"It went that well?" Archer asked as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, those ice-blue eyes of his missing nothing, as usual.

"My mother is dead."

No sense in beating around the bush about it. The words hung in the air between us, simple yet devastating. I'd spent centuries being angry at her, and now I'd never have the chance to resolve any of it.

Archer didn't react for a moment as the information sunk in. Truth be told, I hadn't even processed it fully yet. The reality of it sat like a stone in my chest, cold and immovable.

"And Maxiun?" Archer asked, referring to Callum's father.

"Severely wounded, but alive." I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of centuries pressing down.

"Not that he wants to be with his mate dead.

" I remembered their bond, how it had survived even the turmoil after my father's death.

Some connections transcended politics, even for immortals.

"Fuck."

I snorted. "Basically. If the demon lords find out the Fae realm is in chaos it will be open season." Demons were nothing if not opportunistic. I should know, I ruled them.

"And why did he take Sierra? Just to get your attention to tell you about your mom?"

"Yeah. Basically." Well, that wasn't everything but I didn't know how to say the rest. Not that I even believed Callum. At least until I was able to scry and view the future. The thought of Sierra being bound to both of us made my claws lengthen involuntarily.

It wasn't my strongest ability, but I did inherit some of my mother's affinity for it. The irony wasn't lost on me that I'd need to use her gift now that she was gone.

"Where is Sierra?" I asked finally.

Yes. Move my thoughts onto a better subject. Although the subject of Sierra came with its own complications that made ruling the underworld seem straightforward by comparison.

I still didn't know what the fuck I was going to do when I talked to her.

"She'll be sleeping until morning." Archer's lips twitched. "It'll let you gather thoughts, maybe get yourself some protection for your balls because she's probably gonna kick you in them."

"You're a fucking asshole," I snarled, but then sighed because I knew he was right. In all my millennia of existence, few had dared to speak to me with such irreverence. I'd executed demons for less, yet here was Archer, mocking me as if I were an ordinary man.

This was going to be a fun fucking night.

After taking a quick shower, I didn't bother with another beer and went straight to the scotch. I tossed an ice ball in my glass and just kept pouring until the glass was full. It would take a lot more than this to get drunk. The perks of demonic biology, and sometimes its curse.

But I might be tempted to try tonight.

"To you, Mom." I lifted the glass, tipping it toward the sky before I swallowed the contents in one gulp.

The liquid burned down my throat, but did nothing to diminish the deeper ache.

We'd had our differences—catastrophic ones—but she'd been constant, eternal.

The universe felt unbalanced without her in it.

"What are you going to tell her?"

Fucking Archer.

"Leave," I whispered. Just for once I wanted to be alone. I needed to reflect on what Callum told me and then figure out what to do with Sierra. The image of her silver hair splayed across my sheets flashed unbidden in my mind, and I pushed it away with a growl.

"I'm not going to do that." Being the asshole that he is, he grabbed my glass, refilling it and pouring himself one before sitting down in the chair across from me. Those daggers of his made the briefest appearance before disappearing again, a nervous tic I'd observed over centuries.

This was my favorite place in the world.

In my library office. Surrounded by my books and dark mahogany wood paneling.

A fire in the hearth crackling away, the white noise grounding me and making me feel sane in an otherwise insane realm.

The scent of leather bindings and ancient parchment usually calmed me, but tonight even this sanctuary felt compromised.

"Fuck you," I snarled at Archer. But it lacked venom. I felt drained. Not even my calming place could soothe the rage I was feeling.

Yet, it was more than rage.

"I don't think you fucking me is going to make you feel any better right now."

"I fucking hate you." I shook my head. This demon could really try my patience at times. The fact that I tolerated it was evidence of a bond deeper than either of us cared to admit.

"No, you don't." He gave me a knowing and sad smile. "You hate that I'm the one person who calls you on your shit. And the only one who truly knows what's going on in that crazy head right now."

I sipped my drink, savoring this one instead of downing it all in one go. He was right. Other than Sierra he was the one person who'd ever dared to talk back to me.

Well, Callum did, but that was so long ago it was when we were both petulant children. Before kingdoms and responsibilities drove wedges between us.

"What do you think about what Callum said?"

"Which part?" Archer leaned forward, his hazel eyes darkening. "To look to the future? That he implied Sierra would end up as both of yours? Or that you think he'll be ruling his realm soon?"

"You really need to stay out of my head." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Let's dive into all of them but first do you agree with me about Maxiun?"

"That he'll choose to meet his end without your mother by his side?

" Archer contemplated this for only a moment before he nodded.

"The only reason they were able to carry on after the death of your father was because they had each other.

Without Claudia, and without Darius, Maxiun wouldn't have any reason to live.

Callum is grown and more than capable of ruling. "

I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and nodded. "Exactly. I don't know if Callum was able to come to this conclusion yet." My obsidian eyes fixed on the flames, seeing patterns that weren't there.

"He's grieving. He may have been putting up a decent front, but he was struggling coming to terms with her death. Much less contemplating his father's as well."

"This is all too much of a coincidence." My claws tapped against the crystal tumbler, the sound resonating in the quiet room.

"You're right." Archer grimaced. "Sierra. The attack. The fact that it's getting close to her twenty-ninth birthday. We need to tell her everything."

"Why do you have to be right?" I groaned. "And why do I have a feeling I'm going to be the one she takes all her anger out on?"

Archer chuckled. "Because you're the asshole. I'm just the innocent bystander." His daggers appeared again, twirling between his fingers in that familiar pattern that meant he was plotting something.

Just what I needed.

More complications.