Chapter 19
The messenger’s mouth opened on a shaking breath, but Rhen gave his confusion no time to become a coherent thought.
He reached through the bars and pressed two fingers against the man’s temple.
Rhen’s voice lowered as the compulsion entered the messenger’s mind with quiet, invasive precision.
“You drank too much whiskey and wandered farther than you intended. You lost consciousness before reaching the end of the private road, and you never saw the gate or anyone beyond it.”
The man blinked repeatedly as the command settled.
His eyes gradually lost their focus, and the fear in his expression gave way to baffled exhaustion.
Rhen pushed farther.
He erased the route, the stronghold, the guards, and the silver-eyed male standing before him. The memory disappeared without light or spectacle, stripped away with the same ruthless efficiency Rhen brought to every task.
When he removed his hand, the messenger’s knees folded.
The man collapsed onto the gravel outside the gate, breathing steadily despite the blankness now occupying the last portion of his night.
Rhen stepped away.
By the time the guards dealt with him, he would be no more than a drunken human who had wandered onto a private road and passed out before reaching the property.
He would have no letter, no memory, and no story anyone would believe.
Rhen returned to the main room with rain still clinging to his coat.
The others remained gathered around the long oak table. Dax sat where Rhen had left him, while Cole stood beside the hearth and Malakai occupied the chair nearest the firelight, positioned so he could see each speaker clearly.
Rhen crossed the room and tossed the crumpled letter onto the table.
Dax looked at it.
“Well?”
“Human courier,” Rhen said. “Compelled to deliver it. He did not know the sender.”
Cole’s gaze moved toward the door.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Malakai lifted one eyebrow and signed, Mercy?
Rhen looked directly at him.
“Laziness.”
Dax picked up the letter, but Malakai held out his hand. Dax passed it across the table.
Malakai unfolded the paper and smoothed the deepest creases with his fingertips. His eyes moved along the lines before his expression hardened.
He placed the letter flat where the others could see it and signed.
They know Norse is alive. They know Leena’s death did not end Sule’s bloodline.
Dax swore quietly.
Cole’s shoulders stiffened.
Rhen lowered himself into the chair opposite them and stared beyond the table.
“They want the child,” he said.
Dax looked toward him.
“You think they would risk coming for a king’s son inside his own stronghold?”
Rhen’s gaze settled upon him.
“I think desperation makes people willing to die for very little.”
Malakai glanced down at the letter again.
Then we reinforce the perimeter, rotate the watches, and restrict access to the east wing.
“We do not act blindly,” Rhen said.
Cole turned from the fire.
“We cannot afford to do nothing.”
“We also cannot afford to react exactly as the sender expects.” Rhen’s voice remained calm, which made the warning beneath it more dangerous.
“We identify the paper, the wax, and the route the courier took. We find out how the sender compelled a human and directed him here without being identified.”
Dax leaned forward.
“That brings us back to X.”
The name altered the room.
Malakai signed, There has still been no contact.
“X would not disappear without cause,” Cole said.
“Unless he cannot return,” Dax replied. “If he has been captured, broken, or coerced, they may be using what he knows.”
“No.”
The word came from Rhen too quietly.
All three brothers looked toward him.
Rhen’s jaw moved once.
“X does not break easily, and he would not vanish without leaving something behind. If he chose betrayal, there would be signs in the places he knew we would search.”
Malakai watched him closely.
Belief is not evidence.
“It is more than we have against him.”
Dax reached for the unopened bottle of blood near his elbow and turned it slowly between his hands.
“What do we do until we know?”
Rhen stood.
“We tighten the perimeter, monitor the civilians, and watch the roads leading to the stronghold. Nobody enters without being identified, and no rumor involving Norse is dismissed as harmless.”
Cole’s expression shifted.
“And you?”
Rhen’s eyes moved toward him.
“You’ve barely stopped moving since Leena died. Are you certain you are all right?”
Rhen went still beside the door.
“Don’t.”
The warning carried no volume, but Cole understood it.
Rhen opened the door and left the room without looking back.