Page 18 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Xavier

There she was—sitting next to Julian, wearing that damn dress. I hadn’t known what to expect when I walked into my room earlier, but the sight of her had taken my breath away. The black, nearly sheer dress seemed as if it had been tailor-made for her—and, well, it had been, but I hadn’t anticipated it looking quite so enchanting. Her soft chestnut hair lay loose over her shoulder, spilling across the delicate fabric held together by nothing more than those fragile, thin straps.

Zara was laughing, her lips curling in amusement, probably at my expense, judging by the mischievous glint in Julian’s eyes as he glanced my way. Her gaze, however, never drifted toward me, and I was grateful for that small mercy. If she looked, I didn’t think I would be able to resist going over to her, and I couldn’t, not with Soren droning on in my ear.

“The barmaid was simply rude. Mr. Hinkle needs to hire better staff to run his tavern. I've never been treated so poorly in my entire life.” Soren huffed in his nasal voice, “If you were to walk in there, I’m sure her attitude wouldn’t have changed. Abysmal. Something really must be done.”

I barely registered Soren’s complaints as my attention stayed fixed on Zara. I knew she was safe with Julian, but I couldn’t shake the need to know what she thought of my guests, the food—everything.

Soren’s droning voice grated on my nerves like nails scraping against stone, and I’d had enough. “Soren,” I interrupted, my tone flat. “Mr. Hinkle and his daughter have run that tavern for nearly a century with no other complaints. Perhaps the problem isn’t the staff.”

Soren puffed up in indignation, his ashen hair seeming more unruly than usual. It stuck out in untamed curls off his head, landing on his slender shoulders.

I didn’t give him the chance to protest. My glare was sharp enough to cut through his bluster. “You seem to forget that I’m close with the Hinkle family. If this issue stems from the young Hinkle rejecting your advances, you’ll find yourself not welcome in any tavern. Understand?”

Soren’s face went bright red, and he seemed to be at a loss for words.

“As much as I enjoy seeing you speechless, I’m sure others have more pressing issues that need addressing,” I said with a sharp edge.

Soren barely concealed his sneer beneath a forced smile, his long, pointed nose twitching with irritation. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he replied, his voice dripping with false courtesy. I stared at him, my eyes dipping to his ridiculous outfit. He wore a bright salmon silk shirt that peeked out from beneath a white vest. Ruffled side panels adorned his matching pants, and the extra fabric fell loosely at the edges.

Soren gave a halfhearted bow before stalking away. I saw him glance toward Julian and Zara, but I rose from my throne and headed in their direction before Soren could form any more schemes.

I was almost at their table when a red-haired vixen stepped into my path.

“Xavier.” Aria lifted an eyebrow as she addressed me, her lip curling into a vicious smirk. She gave a slight bow before demanding, “Where is Jaxon?”

I raised my brows in surprise. It had been years since she last sought out my brother.

“He isn’t here, Aria. You can relax; he won’t be ruining your trip. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to—”

“Whenever I mention him, everyone squirms or changes the subject,” she cut in sharply. “Normally, I’m fine with that, but this feels different.”

“My brother will not be joining us, not today or tomorrow. We can discuss the reasons at the meeting,” I added a warning growl to my words.

“Then why does that girl smell like him?” Aria pressed, her eyes narrowing. “She seems familiar in a way. His scent is faint, but I know it by heart. If it’s that light, it could only be from a day or two ago.”

“I will not repeat myself,” I snapped, my patience fraying.

Aria responded with a dry laugh, “So, he is hiding from me?”

“Jaxon would never hide from anyone, you know that,” I snapped back. Only from me , I thought bitterly, defending my treacherous brother.

“Right, and who is she? His whore?” Aria spat.

A growl escaped my lips before she could finish, and she flinched back, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Leave,” I said, my voice low and menacing. The space between us seemed to crackle with energy, and people around us shifted uneasily, moving away from us.

“Apologies,” Aria said, her voice clipped. She gave a curt nod, confusion lining her features as she stepped aside and stormed toward the exit.

Zara had been watching the exchange. Her brows furrowed as her gaze settled on me. I kept my expression guarded, and she seemed to flinch, her eyes darting away as she rubbed her arm. The charm wrapped around her wrist caught the light, and she shook off whatever had just happened, turning back to her conversation with Julian.

“Xavier!” A booming voice came from my right. I turned to see Gunnar approaching, his broad grin accompanied by the jingling of charms and shells strung through his clothing.

“Gunnar,” I greeted, offering a small nod. “I trust you’re enjoying the pulp wine. I had a fresh batch made just for you.”

Gunnar let out a hearty belly laugh, his entire frame shaking as the various trinkets adorning him clinked together in response.

He wore a light blue naval jacket adorned with gold buttons and war medals, which hung proudly from his chest. His thick, graying hair, which fell to his mid-chest, was woven with shells and charms. More dangled from chains draped across his belt, a tradition of Niverrian pirates.

“I am indeed.” Gunnar beamed, taking a deep swig from his glass. But as he set it down, the warmth drained from his face. His cheerful demeanor hardened into an unreadable expression, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and measured. “I have the books Julian mentioned. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

I kept my expression neutral as Gunnar’s words sank in. “We should wait until tomorrow,” I muttered, knowing it would be wiser, but Gunnar’s grim tone cut through my suggestion.

“I don't think you want me to divulge this information in front of everybody,” he replied, his voice low. I gave him a brief nod, glancing toward Julian. He’d been watching our conversation from the corner of his eye, always sharp. He met my gaze, and with a subtle nod, he rose and moved toward the band. Zara, however, was oblivious, lost in her wine.

Damn it. I should’ve told Julian to keep her away from the pulp wine.

The band broke into a lively, fast-paced melody, drawing the crowd's attention. People gravitated toward the dance floor, and with everyone distracted, we slipped out unnoticed, heading straight for my study where we could speak in private.

Once the door clicked shut behind us, Gunnar let out a deep sigh. “I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn’t know.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t know what?”

He hesitated, his voice lowering. “Your brother… When Julian inquired about the books, I began to piece it together. Your brother came to me nearly a year ago, asking about older magic. It all seemed innocent at the time—curiosity, nothing more—but now… I fear I may have unknowingly given him the tools to do what he did.” Gunnar's voice trailed off, and he avoided my gaze. “He took your magic, didn’t he?”

I stared at him, stunned. My only response, a nod.

“Xavier,” Gunnar said, finally meeting my eyes, his tone filled with remorse, “I swear I didn’t know what he was planning. If I had—” He trailed off, not seeming to know how to end that sentence.

I exhaled slowly. It wasn’t the old man's fault, no matter how irritated I may be at this new information. He wasn’t to blame, not entirely. The knowledge was out there, and Jaxon was nothing if not determined. Whether through Gunnar or someone else, he would have found a way. “Jaxon did it, not you,” I said flatly, sinking into my chair behind the desk. Gunnar mirrored the movement, settling into the one opposite me.

“But I gave him the knowledge, Xavier, and I am ashamed,” he admitted, his head lowering in regret, but before I could respond, he spoke again. “I can fix it, though. I can reunite your magic.”

For a brief moment, hope flared in my chest—until he continued, extinguishing it as quickly as it had come.

“I just need Jaxon and the charm he used, and I can transfer the magic back.”

My jaw clenched. “Jaxon isn’t in this realm,” I said, watching his eyes widen in alarm, his entire body going rigid.

“You can’t mean…”

“That’s why I brought you all here,” I confirmed, my voice low and dangerous. The implications of my brother's actions hung heavy in the air, and the room felt smaller under the weight of it all.

“It has to be all connected,” Gunnar muttered, mostly to himself, his gaze distant.

“You think my brother is working with the witches?” I barked, my anger rising at the mere suggestion. The thought of Jaxon betraying us even further made my blood boil.

Gunnar shook his head quickly. “No, not knowingly, I don’t think. But I believe there’s more to the witches' plans than simply gaining access to more blood.” His eyes grew distant as if his mind already followed a thread of thoughts too complex to share fully.

“The witches can’t learn that I have no power,” I said, my voice tight.

Gunnar nodded, his expression dark and serious. “No, boy, they cannot. If they do—”

The door slammed open, and Theo burst in, his face flushed. “Daka, on the grounds,” he shouted.

Gunnar and I immediately stood, and we all bolted into the hallway. My mind raced, but my first thought was of her.

“Zara?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“She’s safe. Julian is taking her back to your room as a precaution, though she didn’t seem too happy about it,” Theo replied.

Of course, she wasn’t. “And our guests?” I pressed as we hurried through the corridor.

“No one is aware of their presence,” Theo continued. “We moved everyone out of the halls and into the ballroom. Dedra and our guards are standing guard there, just in case. The Daka seem to be on the grounds, waiting. I didn’t see any witches, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t lurking.”

My jaw tightened, the tension in my chest rising as I glared ahead. “I’ll see you down there.”

With that, I shadowed into another hallway, moving quickly and silently up the flights of stairs until I reached my rooftop terrace. The wind hit me as I stepped out, and I strode to the ledge. From there, I could see the grounds. My weapons shadowed to me from my room in an instant, cold steel familiar in my grip as I scanned the scene below.

Three Daka slithered across the grass, their grotesque forms moving with an unnatural grace. My eyes shifted to the tree line, trying to catch any movement. Nothing. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

I decided to test them, shadowing a training dummy from the yard below onto the open grounds, not far from where the Daka lurked. As I suspected, a blast of white-hot light shot out from the trees to my left. I noted the spot where the magic came from.

It was a trap—a simple one, at that. Theo would know better than to charge out blindly. I shadowed to the hall that led to the grounds, finding Theo and Gunnar already there, weapons drawn.

“They're trying to lure us out by making us focus on the Daka,” I explained. “But they're hiding in the trees. One of them has light magic.”

Gunnar nodded, his expression grim. “I’ll make sure no one gets inside.”

I nodded, turning to Theo, a grin tugging at my lips. “Theo, you know what to do.”

He gave me a wicked smile in return, and I shadowed, appearing in the trees near where I’d seen the light emerge.

A burst of light shot toward me from the right as I materialized behind a towering oak. I sidestepped the attack, rolling smoothly behind another tree just as the light exploded against the bark where I had stood seconds before.

“Quite foolish of you to ambush your king,” I taunted, letting my voice carry into the trees. Silence. The only response was the rustle of leaves in the wind. Peering around the trunk, I saw a subtle shift in the air, a tiny movement that disturbed the stillness. Camouflage. Clever.

“Clever trick,” I acknowledged aloud, my voice sharp. The air tensed, and a frustrated curse slipped from somewhere nearby.

In one swift motion, I darted from my cover and hurled my dagger toward the disturbance. It sliced through the air, deadly and precise. A shriek tore through the quiet night as my blade found its mark. The figure materialized, clutching at their throat where the dagger had buried itself deep. Blood gurgled from their lips as they crumpled to the ground, the light in their eyes fading.

As the witch's body slumped to the ground, I walked over and pulled my dagger free, a smirk tugging at my lips. The rush of adrenaline heightened my senses, and I looked down at her lifeless form, savoring the kill.

“I wonder,” I called out, my voice taunting. “Did your new master sanction this? Or did you come here simply to die?”

My words seemed to draw out another barrage of magic, but I sidestepped it again with practiced ease, the power crackling harmlessly past me.

A sudden, piercing shriek to my left snapped my attention. There was Theo, his sword slick with the witch’s blood, her severed head rolling away from him. Our gazes locked in a brief moment of silent communication before his eyes widened a fraction.

“Behind you!” Theo shouted. Spinning around, I barely had time to react as a burly woman charged at me, her dagger plunging into my side. I winced as the blade sliced through my flesh, but I was ready, and I thrust my blade into her heart as she collapsed against me.

With a grimace of pain, I shoved her lifeless body to the ground. The throbbing ache in my side flared, but I managed a dark chuckle.

A deafening roar shattered the night as the beasts finally realized we were here. Their massive forms trampled through the dense wood, and trees shattered and fell in their wake as they charged our way.

I gave Theo a brief nod, a silent command. His body began to glow with power as the air around us crackled. Electricity danced over his skin, and a wave of envy washed over me—not for his magic, but for the power. My body ached for the feeling of it again.

The beasts drew closer, and Theo unleashed his magic. Lightning arced from the sky, forming a circle of crackling energy around us. The ground shuddered with each strike and anguished screams pierced the air as more bodies than I had expected fell from the trees.

The three beasts plummeted heavily to the forest floor as Theo released another surge of magic, their enormous weight shaking the earth. Theo collapsed to his knees, the strain of wielding so much power so quickly visibly draining him.

I took in the destruction around us and balled my hands into fists. They had attacked my home . The witches were getting more daring, making them more dangerous than we previously thought.

I started toward Theo, but a faint whimper, piercing the stillness, stopped me. I turned and saw a dark-haired woman trapped beneath the massive trunk of a fallen oak. Blood soaked her black cloak, and numerous scars marred her olive skin, visible through the torn fabric.

I crossed the clearing and looked down at her, my expression hardening. Though barely conscious, she met my gaze with defiant eyes that flickered with a stubborn light.

A wicked smile curled on my lips as I shadowed her away to the dungeons.