Page 92 of The Forsaken Heir

Clenching my fists, I stiffened as if to move forward. I wanted to tear out my brother’s eyes. He knew well enough it wasn’t Aurelius who’d had Jolon killed. Octavius nudged me with his elbow before I could act.

“Stay calm, my lady,” he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself. This was part of the plan. I knew that, but it didn’t make things any better. I had to allow Sahalie to play her part, and I would play mine.

“Anyway,” Bastien said after a few moments of my silence. “I would like to address the crowd, if I might?” He gave the Hikshil a questioning look.

Kaskawan scowled and glanced around. “This was not part of the agreement. I wonder why we have an audience. This”—he reached up and touched a shimmering purple stone at his throat—“will be sending images of this meeting to any with a viewing crystal.”

“Be that as it may,” Bastien said, “a live audience is always better. Then no one can say any images were, shall we say, altered.”

A dark look crossed over Kaskawan’s face, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “Are you indicating that we might do something like that?” the man asked in a low, threatening voice.

Bastien put a hand to his chest, his smile never faltering.

“My dear man, this meeting is simply a gesture of good faith toward the respected Hikshil tribe. All of us here”—he swept a hand toward the crowd—“understand and revere your history and power, as well as your status as the protectors of one of the largest remaining wellsprings. That being said,” he added with a more predatory grin, “you have aligned yourselves with the dragon king. It shows that you are more than likely fooled by their words. I’m sure, once you see the prisoner and hear the questioning, you’ll change your allegiance quite quickly. ”

Bastien turned his gaze up at me once more, then his eyes skipped over Rasp, Vince, Delphine, and finally, Freddy. The smile never left his face, but the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. He was enraged that we were all here.

Most of his fury was reserved for Freddy. The two stared at each other before Bastien broke the connection and turned to the crowd, raising his hands to the sky.

“Bring forth the prisoner! Let’s get this done, as I’m sure we all have better things to do.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at me. “Like preparing for war.”

A cold shiver ran up my spine. We all knew that was what Bastien wanted.

He was completely insane. In fact, as I glanced around the crowd of shifters and fae in attendance, I wondered if they were all here to see the truth, or if they’d come simply to make sure Bastien remained happy with them.

The power of the Laurent family wasn’t something you trifled with.

Hissed conversations broke out in the crowd as something happened near the tent at the center of the clearing.

The Hikshil and the others gathered close to me—Freddy and Delphine at my sides, Vince and Rasp standing at the front of our group, Octavius at the rear, watching for anything that might signal betrayal or attack.

I risked a single glance toward the sky.

There, almost impossible to see if you weren’t looking for it, a tiny speck circled the clearing.

Aurelius. Before I’d even had time to register his presence, he slipped back up into the clouds, vanishing from sight.

Knowing he was right there gave me the confidence to face what was coming.

But it didn’t ease the shock at what I saw coming out of the tent.

My jaw fell open as two of Bastien’s henchmen pushed a man locked in heavy steel chains forward.

Even from here, I could smell the silver in the bindings.

The other shifters in attendance backed away in disgust at the smell of the metal.

Whatever was bound in the chains looked so much like Aurelius that it made my brain hurt.

For a single moment, my heart lurched, thinking that somehow Bastien was right.

That he did still have Aurelius in his custody and the man I’d been with since his escape was a fake.

That wasn’t true, of course. I’d seen Aurelius shift, had ridden on his back, and I’d shared intimate moments with him.

There was no way that man wasn’t who he said he was.

Even shapeshifting creatures and skinwalkers couldn’t change into dragons.

The fake Aurelius stepped forward, his head hung low, a look of defeat on his blood-smeared face.

Once he was standing between the crowd and our group, the security team pushed him down roughly, forcing him to his knees.

The imposter gasped in pain and winced as he stumbled forward.

He glanced up and locked his eyes on me, a faint smile forming on his lips.

“Elle? Oh God, Elle. I thought I’d never see you again.”

I shuddered. The voice was a perfect match.

Nausea and terror flooded my system.

“Holy shit,” Rasp muttered. “What the fuck is going on? Is it really a skinwalker?”

I’d never actually come face-to-face with one, so I couldn’t tell for sure.

They were exceedingly rare. In fact, they were supposedly one of the rarest creatures in the world.

The spells required to achieve perfect mimicry were too difficult for all but the most-advanced and mentally twisted magic users.

The legends said that they were able to mimic anything and used that to lure unwary people to their doom.

This… thing …could be that, but I had no way of knowing for sure.

Vince sniffed the air and shook his head. “That… I’m not sure what that is, but it doesn’t smell like Aurelius.” He grimaced. “It’s been coated in dragon pheromones or something. Bastien’s trying to hide what it is,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.

That knowledge alone ruled out a skinwalker. According to the legends, they could mimic the look, the voice, and the scent of anyone. If Bastien had gone to the trouble of coating it in pheromones, then this was not a skinwalker.

My mind worked overtime, trying to recall everything I’d learned in my lessons as a kid.

Most of what we’d been taught as high-born shifters was about our enemies and their strengths and weaknesses, but there had been plenty about other magical creatures.

None were as numerous as shifters or even the smaller numbers of fae, but there were still dozens of beasts and monsters that were the original basis for everything from vampires and Bigfoot to sea monsters and ghosts.

This, whatever it was, had to be rarer than any.

Even Sahalie and the other Hikshil looked startled by the presentation of the prisoner, though they managed to steady themselves quickly. Achakos stepped forward first, eyeing the imposter.

“Tell me, young man, are you Aurelius Decimus? I beseech the honest answer, unbound by magical coercion.” While she spoke, she drew some strange symbol in the air before the imposter, and one of the gems in a ring on her right hand glowed bright orange.

He gazed up at her, a sad smile on his lips, as the translucent symbol—a swirling pinwheel with a few hashmarks on the outer edge—shone in the air for an instant before vanishing.

“I am Aurelius Decimus. Crown prince and heir to the throne of dragons. I am a terrorist, and I am sorry for the pain I have caused and the lives I’ve ruined.”

Achakos straightened quickly, looking surprised by the response. After gathering herself, she nodded slowly and joined us again.

In a low voice, she said, “Not a skinwalker, and not a changeling either. The spell I cast would not have allowed a lie to come from its lips.”

“A potion perhaps?” Kaskawan asked. “Something they’ve created from one of their wellsprings?”

Achakos shook her head. “If so, it’s the most advanced magical potion I’ve ever seen.”

“Let me have a go,” he said. He strode toward the thing and extracted a small pouch from his pocket.

The imposter smiled up sadly at Kaskawan.

“More questions? It’s me. You all know it.

Just admit it so we can put it all behind us.

Bastien says he’ll allow you all to go free and take my family and household across the ocean.

Please . I will still be executed, but I don’t want anyone I love to be hurt.

It’s a sacrifice I’m willing and happy to make. ”

Unconsciously, I took Delphine’s hand. She squeezed my fingers hard. The emotion and pain in his voice was so gut-wrenching, I had to look up at the sky again. That tiny black speck poked out from the clouds again, reassuring me.

Kaskawan opened the pouch and poured golden sand into his palm. He raised it above his head and addressed the crowd.

“Focused magical powder created from the last vestiges of the long-dead Wellspring Sea that once lay at the center of what is now Mexico. Even before the first European boots struck the ground here, it was the greatest and most powerful wellspring in existence, even greater than the Great Northern wellspring we Hikshil are the stewards of. This sand can wipe away any spell, neutralize any potion, and heal all magical wounds.” Kaskawan bent low to level his gaze with the fake Aurelius.

“Do you wish to tell the truth of your identity? Or do you want to continue this charade?”

The man who looked exactly like the man I loved, shrugged his shoulders weakly, his chains rattling as he did. “I am Prince Aurelius Decimus. Nothing can change that.” He nodded to the powder in Kaskawan’s hand. “No potion or spell is making me say this. Do it. Show everyone I am who I say I am.”

Kaskawan flung the powder toward the imposter.

The golden substance burst into a thick opaque fog or mist, thicker than it had any right to be.

It enveloped the thing with Aurelius’s face until it was completely obscured.

Kaskawan stepped back, watching warily as tiny electric sparks cracked through it like a miniature thundercloud.