Fragile Reign (Mortal Enchantment Book 2) (6 page)

Dad scratched the back of his head. “I refuse to believe what you’re saying. The fact that you see the symbols moving means something. I know it does.”

I wished I believed as he did, but I didn’t see the point. “It means I’m probably hallucinating.”

His eyes roamed the room. “I need to find a bag.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

Dad glanced around the room, finding a discarded canvas bag. He grabbed it, and then loaded the journals inside. “I want you to take these with you. You need to try to read them.”

I pressed my lips together. “What’s the point? We already know I can’t.”

“Yet,” he said, holding out his hand. Dad helped me stand. “You can’t read them yet!”

There was no point in arguing with him. He believed I was the akasha and he wasn’t backing down. “All right, I will do as you ask.”

I wished I could see the light at the end of the tunnel as he could. It would be awesome to have a positive outcome after everything horrible that had happened. But I wasn’t there yet. Too many things were still up in the air. I managed to carry the huge canvas bag through the caverns without Dad’s assistance. He offered, of course, but he was weaker than he wanted me to believe. Once we reached his chambers, one of the guards took the bag out of my hands. They both followed me to my bedroom. I rubbed my eyes, exhausted from barely sleeping the night before. I planned to spend the next few hours skimming through a few of the sections. What would it hurt to try a few more times? The door clicked when I turned the knob. When I stepped inside, I saw something I wasn’t expecting.

Before I could say one word, Mom held up her hand. Dad just stood there with his mouth hanging open, no words coming out. Mom stepped toward us, arms crossed. “Kalin Matthews, you have
a lot
of explaining to do.”

Rowan

The day had reached twilight by the time Marcus left to find his father. During his absence, I went through what was once my bedroom. I had expected Liana to destroy my belongings, burn the room to ash. After all, she was furious when I refused to take the throne after my mother’s death. I was surprised to find most of my things intact. All the furniture had been left the way I remembered, while my clothes and shoes were still in my closet. After I showered and changed, I scrounged up some bread and cheese from the kitchen.

During dinner, Marcus returned. Something about his appearance was off. His white t-shirt had been torn, fresh bloodstains lined the hem. He didn’t answer me when I asked where the blood came from. His silence confirmed what I had already suspected. The hounds were dangerous, feral creatures. Darius—his father and the leader of the pack—was the worst. Even before Marcus could shape-shift, his father forced him to fight other hounds. There were days when Marcus barely survived. But Darius didn’t know any better. Their anger was encouraged by my mother, Prisma.

She enjoyed watching them fight, even to the death. It was entertainment for her.

When Marcus finally started talking, he told me he had arranged a meeting with his father. Darius was eager to meet, insisting I come immediately. His enthusiasm made me suspicious. My gut told me Darius had a plan. How I fit into his scenario, I wasn’t sure. Although he was mother’s personal guardian, Darius hated her. She would use him to punish the other hounds if they disobeyed, and on occasion, force him to kill his own kind. But she alone could control the hounds, leaving him no choice.

The meeting was meant to be peaceful. My goal was to cement an alliance with the hounds. They might give me the leverage I needed against Valac. I had no idea how many supporters he already had. Due to the nature of our meeting, I considered not bringing a weapon—a show of force might send the wrong message. However, I couldn’t trust Darius. Not yet. I hid my sword under a glamour that most hounds couldn’t see. The hounds might smell the iron weapon, but I had to take the chance.

Marcus led us across the barren dry lands of the fire court. We hiked for two hours, even passing through an abandoned village on the edge of our territory. It reminded me of one of the old black and white cowboy movies I used to watch in the mortal world. The wood on the small houses was charred, shattered glass and trash lined the dirt walkways. No plants or life of any kind could be seen for miles. Gusts of wind blew through the area, whistling through the broken windows and door frames.

“Don’t tell me they left the castle for this place.” I finally said, breaking the long silence.

Marcus shrugged, then he massaged his upper arm. “Out here, they can do what they want. This place has been abandoned for a while.”

After noticing his injury, I couldn’t ignore the obvious anymore. “What happened when you went to see your father?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He replied, staring at something in the distance. “We’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”

Now I was sure. His father
had
forced him to fight. That was the only possible explanation. “If you want to talk about it—”

“I know,” he interrupted, lightly punching me with his good arm.

He would talk to me when he was ready. It wasn’t something I needed to stress over. All I could do was get his mind off of it. “I noticed you’ve been looking a bit sluggish lately. Old age and all.” I looked at him as if I was sizing him up. “I’ll bet I could finally beat you, for once.”

The challenge put a smile on his face. “I could have two broken arms and you
still
couldn’t take me out.”

“That hurts, Marcus.” I put my hand over my heart, pretending to be in pain. “You’ve scarred me for life.”

He grimaced like I had punched him in the face.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what I had said. Marcus had never forgiven himself for removing my wings. And thanks to my scar reference, he was probably replaying it in his mind. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, man. It just slipped out.”

“It’s fine.”

Marcus and I had never talked about what went down at the fire court. Kalin mentioned more than once that she thought we needed some kind of bro-therapy. I rejected the idea because I had forgiven him. Marcus had no control over his own body. My mother forced him to mutilate me. How could I possibly hold him accountable for his actions? I assumed Marcus would eventually figure that out on his own. Judging by the pain on his face, Kalin was right. “Maybe now is a good time to talk about what happened.”

“What’s there to say? I’m the reason you can no longer fly. I tore off your wings, scarring you for life. I tasted your blood in my mouth.” He lowered his head. “I almost killed you.”

This was pure insanity. After more than a year, he still blamed himself? I had to put an end to this. “You were under my mother’s control.” Marcus wouldn’t look at me. “I watched you try to fight back. I don’t blame you for any of it.”

“You don’t get it, Rowan,” he said, voice louder than usual. “It’s much easier to forget when something is done to you. But when you inflict pain on someone you care about, it’s impossible to forgive yourself.”

His refusal to let go was making me angry. The tension in my shoulders started to burn. “Actually Marcus, you did cause me pain. But not the way you think.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“The greatest pain I ever felt came when I read your letter. A letter explaining why my best friend couldn’t stand to be around me. A letter asking me not to look for you because you wanted to be by yourself.” He started to walk away, and I grabbed him by the forearm. “I would have rather died from my wounds than lose your friendship.”

We both stood silent.

Marcus took an exaggerated breath. “I’m sorry about the letter. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but clearly it wasn’t. I should’ve talked it out with you.”

I hadn’t realized how angry I was over the letter until the words came out. I had always assumed it was about the loss of my wings. But in reality, it was about Marcus walking away from me, and the year I spent wondering if we would ever speak again. “We’re both idiots.”

“Pretty much.” He agreed.

“But you can still be my wingman.” I said, smirking.

Marcus waved his hands. “No way, you can be
my
wingman.”

I crossed my arms. “It’s so obvious I’m Batman and you’re Robin.”

Marcus chuckled. “Aren’t you forgetting I’m older and stronger than you? I am clearly Batman.”

“Okay, okay, Batman and Robin is a bad analogy. But I’m definitely He-Man.” I started laughing. “And you’re Battle Cat.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You wish you were He-Man.”

“Don’t get your fur in a bundle over it.” I patted him on the back. “Battle Cat is just as important as He-Man.”

The corner of his mouth curled. “I’m starting to understand why no one likes you.”

I pretended to wipe sweat from my brow. “Being a hero comes with many burdens.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “I think I liked you better when you were unconscious.”

By the time we reached the edge of the abandoned city, the sky had darkened into night. It had become difficult to see much farther than a couple of yards in front of us. About a block away, I noticed some activity in front of a large brick building. It wasn’t in the best condition—most of the windows were shattered and there was a large hole on the side of the exterior. As we got closer, a few hounds made their way outside. Most were in their mortal form, except one.

“Be cautious with your words, Rowan. It’s easy to set them off.” Marcus warned.

This wasn’t my first time dealing with the hounds. I was well aware of the dangers. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s what concerns me.”

Darius stepped out of the building, pausing when he noticed us. Even in his mortal form, he stood above his pack. He wore a pair of jeans and a sleeveless white shirt that showed off his massive biceps. His muscles made most professional athletes look like horse jockeys. I glanced over at Marcus. His back was straight with his hands clenched at his sides. There was no doubt that he wasn’t expecting this meeting to go well.

My own thoughts were pretty close to his, but I couldn’t show fear. The hounds had to see me as a leader—their king. Otherwise, they’d never side with me. Rather than wait for Darius to make a move, I headed straight for him. I didn’t stop until I was right in front of him. Marcus wasn’t far behind. “I understand you were eager to meet with me, Darius.”

“I was curious. Given your past, I had my doubts you would even show up.” Darius glanced at his hounds, snickering.

He had been present when I was mutilated. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard his voice afterwards. If I was right, Darius was the one who suggested throwing me in the dungeon where I would have most certainly died. “Many things have changed since the last time we saw each other.” I said, speaking with a firm, level tone.

He crossed his massive arms across his chest. “Indeed they have. You are the one who killed Prisma. For that, I am grateful.”

My stomach tightened. Taking my mother’s life wasn’t something I was proud of. She wasn’t winning any awards for ‘best mom’, but she was still the only parent I had ever known. “You deserved your freedom long before you received it. I always said if I became king that would be my first command.”

“But you did have a chance to free us, little prince.” Darius cocked his head to the side.
Little prince?
He was trying to use his words to lure me into a fight. “After Prisma’s death, you should have been crowned. Instead you abandoned your court, choosing to stay in the mortal world to guard the air court princess. The same court who later attacked us, killing some of my pack.”

Had I not protected Kalin, she would’ve died in the forest before she ever reached Avalon. The war would have started much earlier and Taron would not have stopped until every fire court elemental paid for her death with their life. “I never abandoned our court. I saved many lives by protecting Kalin. That was more than I could have done sitting on a throne.”

I heard a low, growling rumble come from Darius. I doubt many argued with him. With Liana and Prisma gone, he answered to no one. The other hounds gathered closer, boxing us in. Each one breathing heavy as they prepared to shape-shift. Their natural body heat thickened the air around us. With each passing moment the tension escalated. If the hounds decided to attack as a group, I would be killed within seconds—along with Marcus. But I refused to back down.

Darius bent down, settling only inches from my face. “Why did you ask for this meeting, little prince?”

Anger bubbled in my chest. I needed to stay composed, but I had reached my limit. I drew my sword from the glamoured sheath. The closest hounds let out a pained scream. A few backed away when their skin caught fire. Iron burned the hounds the same as any other elemental. I leaped back, landing in a crouching position. Pointing my sword in Darius’s direction, I said, “You may address me as Prince Rowan or King Rowan, but that will be the last time you address me as little prince. Do you understand?”