Read The Price of Freedom Online
Authors: Joanna Wylde
The Price of Freedom (25 page)
Epilogue
Logan stood alone on his balcony.
He could see his entire city from here, the shining capital that his family had ruled for centuries. Once his father had stood here too, telling his young son stories of the star system that would one day be his to rule. He had always imagined doing the same with his own son, Soren.
Instead he had spent five years as a slave, less than a man.
For all that, his return to power had been almost laughably easy. His people had rallied to him upon his return, turning on the revolutionaries and slaughtering them as Logan strode through the city toward his palace. Millions had followed him, singing songs and throwing flowers in his path. Several times he had been forced to stop. They all wanted to touch him, to hear his voice and remember the good times.
Nobody could have guess how bad life would get once revolutionaries had crept into his palace wearing gas masks five years ago. Every electronic security system had been subverted, and loyal guardsmen were slaughtered as they lay unconscious. A reign of terror had followed and millions suffered.
Many of the conspirators were already dead. Thousands more waiting in the prisons below the castle, damp, dark pits his earliest forefathers had carved out of the living rock to encase their enemies.
Now his men were questioning those prisoners, demanding answers and ripping the truth from the very fabric of their brains.
So far no one had been able to give him the information he sought. Somewhere, out in the city or in the hills beyond, his son still lived.
Every other member of his family was dead. His brothers, sisters…his lifemate, Linnea. They were all gone, but Soren still lived.
Those of his loyal friends and counselors who had survived the assault thought he was crazy. There was no reason to believe the child had survived. He had been less than a year old when the revolutionaries had struck the palace. His caretakers were all slaughtered, and while the child's body was never found, there was no reason to hope. The destruction in the nursery had been terrible; many bodies completely destroyed before they could be identified. How could a child survive something like that?
Entire sections of the palace were ultimately vaporized during those tense, horrible hours…
Despite that, Logan knew in his heart Soren lived. He could hear the child's heart beating deep within his soul, just as he had been able to hear Linnea's heart stop beating. He had felt it the instant his lifemate had perished. Her dying screams echoed in his dreams, though they had been miles apart when the attack came. A part of him died with her and only the hope of finding his son had kept him alive.
Logan leaned forward, willing himself to feel the life of the city, calling out silently to his son to answer him.
Of course, there was nothing. He was no sorcerer to reach outside his body for the truth. Even the priests and priestesses of the Goddess, many with powers beyond his ability to comprehend, believed his son was dead.
Logan sighed, closing his eyes. His son was alive. He was out there, waiting for his father to rescue him. Logan's grip on the railing grew tight, anger welling up within him as he made a silent promise.
When he did find whoever held his son captive, not even the Goddess would be able to stay his hand. He or she would die slowly and terribly for their part in this revolt. He vowed it on his Linnea's cold and lonely grave.
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