Page 23 of The Order: Rise of the New Empire (Order #4)

Chapter twenty-two

Xavier

I f this is real life, how much worse could hell be?

For the past twenty-four hours, every second I have spent with the land of the living has felt like pure torture.

Driven by the feral need to protect my girls, every moment spent not knowing where they are only brings me further to a tipping point I can't come back from.

Groggy and disoriented, I pull my head up from its slumped position against the cold floor, doing my best to rationalize all that has happened before this.

Feeling her lips press to my skin as she comforted me, tears rolled down her cheeks, her heart filled with sorrow as she played the game.

His game.

She's playing his game, and I'm in the dark about all of it.

"Fucking hell," Fallan's voice groans, the crackle of the fireplace burning before us the only light in the space.

Pulling his head from the floor, we are both bound, the feeling of sedatives pumping through our veins.

Taking notice of the sleek furnishings before us, it's easy to piece together where the hell we are.

The Prophet's quarters.

Specifically, in New Haven.

"He brought us back home," I hiss, forcing myself into a seated position, kicking Fallan's legs once he tries to go back to sleep.

"Perfect," Fallan hisses, clearly as thrilled to be here as I.

Wearing clothes much nicer than the ones we came in, we both are dressed to impress, wearing silks of the finest craftsmanship.

"These are the guest quarters," I whisper, taking into account the nicely folded sheets swarming the bed.

Sensing a buzzing energy below us, I press my ear to the floor, the faint whispers of the Marked still being held captive touching my ear.

"He still has Marked held here for consumption," I whisper, Fallan's eyes going wide.

"Think that's why Forest brought us here?" Fallan questions, forcing himself to his feet, stretching his arms above his head.

"I don't know anything anymore," I admit, following in his lead. "What I do know is I won't sit here and wait around to see what Elyon needs from us."

Forest told me to follow his rules.

It was her telling me to follow those rules.

What the hell is the bigger picture here?

Hearing the murmur of voices circulate through the space, we both quiet down, gravitating toward the unlocked door.

Swinging it open, the moonlight filters through the large glass windows, a single room filled with light filtering into the hallway.

Tugging my wrists as hard as I can, the binds around them snap free. Tugging on Fallan's binds to let him free, we both cautiously approach the source of light, his hand grabbing one of the decorative vases, dumping out the wilted flowers.

Silently moving through the hallway, we both make it to the doorway, barely looking inside, catching a glimpse of the roaring fire bringing forth the light.

Seated on a chair, her silver hair is back in multiple braids, her body concealed by a large sweater. Swirling a glass of blood in her hand, Elyon paces back and forth, drinking the same rich liquid, his voice scoffing with annoyance as she watches him.

"It was foolish for me to allow them to come into our home," he seethes, the use of the word home in association with her making my blood boil.

"No need to pout, Elyon," she smirks, taking a long drink from the glass, hesitation clouding her expression. "You know they could be useful to our cause. How else do you plan to flush out the Marked that we have no grasp on?" she questions, narrowing her eyes at the man. "Not to mention, they still have a Shifter on their side, whether he is man or not. You think they will choose to side with us once Mason has dug his pesky little claws into their minds?" she questions, throwing logic at the man.

"Do not lecture me like you do not know where my hesitation has come from," Elyon snaps, getting in her face, Fallan the only thing holding me back. "One of them will be a distraction to you, and we both know it," he hisses, looking the woman up and down. "Are you sure there are no other motivating factors to having him here?" he questions, reaching for her stomach.

"I have told you," she snaps, grabbing his wrist. "If there were anything, it has been dealt with. You yourself saw me take the drink. Nothing would have survived that concoction," she hisses, my heart dropping at the statement.

What the hell did you take, Forest?

"What is she talking about?" Fallan whispers in my mind, my focus anywhere but him.

“The Marked are out of line, unable to be managed. You want power, he is one of our greatest resources, as well as my largest weakness. I'd rather not have the thing that means the most to me running around, I'd rather be able to watch him,” she snaps, holding her weakness in his face.

"And if it ever comes time to cut that weakness off?" Elyon questions, shaking his head.

"Well, that won't be your burden to bear now, will it?" she questions, challenging the man with a flood of defiance.

"You sure it's just him you hold closest now?" Elyon questions, trying to get her to yield, her hand pressing her temple as he tries to force himself into her mind.

"Careful," she hisses, watching as Elyon staggers backward, a painful hiss leaving his mouth. "Do not speak to me as if I am just another thing you have control over," she warns. "You often underestimate what kind of power I hold, Elyon Morgan."

Shaking his head, he looks at his spilled drink, tossing the rest of its contents into the fire.

"I don't underestimate anything, Forest."

"Tread carefully, father. If I wanted your judgment, I would have come looking for it."

Snapping his fingers, Elyon looks unamused. Urging in shackled Marked, they all stumble into the room, their ages varying from twelve to ten.

"Whatever you say, sweet one," Elyon snaps, his head snapping up toward Fallan and me.

Shit.

"Won't you boys please come and join us for a drink?" Elyon questions, both of our bodies being forced forward as we stumble into the room.

Looking just as stoic as before, Forest barely looks our way, her focus diverted to the fire. Hearing the doors slam shut behind us, we both stay close to one another, trying to think of our next best plan of action.

"Please, take a seat, won't you get a drink for our guests, my dear?" Elyon questions forest, both of our asses being forced down into a seat.

Standing up, she tugs a blade free from her father's side, tossing it back and forth in her hand.

Casually approaching the eldest of the Marked slaves, his small voice screams, begging for mercy, both Fallan and me flinching at the noise.

She looks utterly unbothered.

"Please, Forest, you're supposed to be our Apparatus-"

"Shhh," she whispers, getting eye level with the child, grabbing his hand. "What kind of person would I be to drain you in one go?" she questions, snapping her fingers, urging her father to bring over two fresh glasses.

Holding the boy still with her Hold, she slides the blade over his palm, tears rolling down his face as his wound fills the cups. Gravitating her hand over the cut, she forces the skin back together, healing the boy's wounds with a great deal of strategy.

Eyeing his daughters work with surprise, a lingering jealousy in the abilities Forest carries infiltrates Elyon's mind.

"No need to cry when you still offer so many uses," she smiles, patting the boys head, nudging her chin in our direction.

"Well, go serve our guests."

"Why don't you, my dear?" he questions, handing her off the drinks, her eyes scanning the man up and down.

"I would be delighted."

Winnowing in front of us, she holds the drinks filled with the child's blood, looking us over with a look I can't quite decipher.

"Drink," she demands, handing us the cups, a great deal of hesitation in Fallan's expression.

"For fuck's sake, Forest, that's a child-"

"I said drink, you fucking traitor," Forest snaps, forcing the glass's rim on Fallan's lips, tipping the drink until it has forced its way down his throat.

Wide eyed and fearful, Fallan holds back a gag as he finishes off the drink, his throat gasping for air once she has pulled the cup away.

Turning her head towards me, she glances at my full glass.

"Do you need some extra motivation too, Commander?" she questions, her face unreadable.

"Please, I know given the circumstances this might be harder, but, please, just drink," she whispers in my mind, her face not breaking its cold facade once.

Tipping the cup, I regrettably enjoy the taste of the blood, taking in every ounce of power flooding through me, only stopping once the cup has run dry.

"What do you want from us, Forest?" Fallan questions, entirely in the dark to any of her motives right now.

That's best.

The less that know, the better.

“Mason and the Revolutionists have the metal from the waters. Metal that can kill me and my daughter. As well as that, they have the Shifter's support. You boys are close to them. We need that metal back.” Elyon snaps, answering for Forest.

Confused, I shake my head.

"What the hell are you talking about? Mason or Bekah would have radioed one of us if they had found something like that," Fallan shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

"That might have been true before, but it would seem, given Xavier's loyalty to my daughter, they chose to keep you out of it. One of my guards oversaw Mason retrieve the metal. He was alone, unable to get the upper hand on two Marked like that. I myself knew the metals might emerge at some point. It would seem mother nature is ready to rid herself of her own creation," Elyon hisses.

"Metal that can kill you and Forest?" I question, confused.

"You think just any blade could defeat the beginning and the end?" Elyon questions, confusion finally flooding Forest's expression. "The Earth always provides answers for its mistakes and your little weasel of a Shifter was the first to get his hands on that answer," Elyon smiles, glancing toward Forest.

"I didn't feel like scaring you," Elyon clarifies.

Clearly Forest was just as much in the dark about this as we were.

"While you work to give us an upper hand, you both will remain in my home as guests, no binds necessary," Elyon smiles, giving us both an up and down look. "Though, your looks will need to remain presentable so long as you both walk in my shadow."

Saying nothing, Forest slowly nods her head, not arguing with the man whatsoever.

She's shocked.

She didn't know Mason had a weapon of that magnitude.

Running her hand over her stomach beneath her sweater, I know she only fears for one life right now. The same life I fear for. "You want us to swear fealty to you?" Fallan snaps, standing up with accusation. Getting in both of our faces, Forest shoves Fallan back down in his chair, touching both of our chins. "Fealty to me," she hisses, unamused by Fallan's need to complain. "You will swear fealty to me and do so with a smile. I'm sure you can play the part just fine." Scoffing, she looks Fallan up and down. "I mean, you have done it before." Cutting her hand with the blade she had used to make the drink, she holds it out to Fallan, waiting for him to latch on. "What?" Fallan questions, eyeing the pool of blood with confusion. "Though you may roam freely in our home, you may not roam without one thing," she whispers, gravitating her mouth toward the man's ear. "A bind." Shocked, Fallan looks unnerved. "A bind to you?" he questions, shaking. 'Who else?" she questions, pressing her palm to his lips, her eyes flooding with a tinge of light. "Now, drink. Try and run away or turn your back on us, and your bind will kill you faster than my hand could." Watching his throat force down the drink, his veins glow like the members of a fire, his throat gasping for air, his eyes filling with a similar glow like hers. Trying to pull her hand away from his mouth, he flails like a wild animal. "Drink up, traitor," she hisses, only stopping once the glow has died down in both of them. Tearing her hand away from his mouth, he gasps, rubbing his throat in discomfort.

Moving toward me, I embrace the taste of her blood, letting it settle in my throat, feeling her energy work through me.

"Just trust me, love," she whispers, her eyes glowing, my skin burning hot. "I offer no bind to you; your love will always be more than enough fealty."

Mimicking the discomfort I watched Fallan display, I feel nothing but her energy, something different in the way her blood rolls through me, the power of what is nestled in her belly adding a new sense of comfort in her energy.

Giving me as much time as Fallan, Elyon focuses his attention on the embers of the fire, pulling free two hot prods, making his way over to us once she is complete.

She did not bind me.

She has allowed me to keep my free will.

Burning hot and searing, Elyon holds to branding prods, Sanctum's logo tethered to the end of each one.

"Present your forearms. Or I plant it on your ass."

Not arguing with the man, both Fallan and I roll up our sleeves, biting back a scream once Elyon has planted the rods on our wrists. Watching our skin burn, he holds the prods until a scar can present itself, tugging the prods away, a fresh branding on both of our skin.

Glaring at Elyon, Fallan covers his brand.

"Your reign will not last forever, Elyon," Fallan hisses. "Power like yours was not meant to exist.

Laughing Elyon drops the prods on the floor, giving little attention to Fallan's words.

“You are a fool if you think that I am the only thing that can top this food chain. Even if I die, something much bigger lingers beneath the surface," Elyon whispers. "Now, get yourselves cleaned up and rested for the night. We have much bigger things to tackle tomorrow."

Both Winnowing away, Elyon and Forest leave Fallan and me to grovel, both of our eyes locked on our brands, fear rolling through both of our minds.