Chapter 15 Kael
KAEL
Staring at the four walls that I now have to call my home brings me no calm, despite the privacy it offers. The soft burgundy sheets beneath me may be high in quality, but do nothing to hide the stone mattress making it impossible to even fake the environment of relaxation.
The entire room is draped in the same deep colors, from the frills that line the four poster bed I find myself in, to the overly eccentric curtains framing the window to my left.
The walls are decorated with a grand fleur-de-lis pattern in a rich red, like something ripped straight out of times long past.
Despite all of the obnoxious textures padding the room, there's nothing to shield me from the exhaustion that weighs heavy on my limbs.
Sleep isn't coming for me.
Neither is a sense of relief.
Staring out of the arched window, it offers no sense of time since my brother continues to smother his little realm in darkness.
As I roll onto my back, a heavy sigh falling from my lips, I wipe a hand down my face, wincing instantly at the contact.
My skin is raw.
In the little ensuite my brother offered me with this room, I scrubbed at myself for hours, getting the blood from every crevice of my body, and now I'm feeling the consequences of my due diligence.
I’m acutely aware as I lie here that I’m simply another pawn in my brother's game. Yet, all I'm left with is one emotion. One I’ve never felt before. One that's taken me all night to come to terms with.
Longing.
It all starts and ends with her.
I long for her presence.
I long to see her sleeping.
I long to feel the burning rage as we argue with one another.
I long for it all. Yet all I get instead is this ridiculous room in a poorly imitated world I wish didn't exist.
My mind repeatedly tries to wander back to what could be happening if I was with her now, back at Institute Thirteen. It’s never been my home, but it represented much more than this does.
Another pang in my chest reminds me of what I'm up against here.
It's all mentally draining. There's nothing physically happening to me, but the sorrow of seeing Jenkins here and the distraught ache in my chest from feeling the pressure of lashing out at Odie continues to thrum through my veins.
Another factor in the complex equation explaining why sleep hasn't come for me tonight.
Whenever my eyelids get a little too heavy, ready for the comfort of peace, my mind re-ignites. I don’t give up, though, repeating the process, hellbent on getting some reprieve.
Aware that I could be trying right now instead of wandering through my thoughts, I drape my arm over my face, hiding behind my elbow as I let my eyelids fall closed.
The melodic sway of sleep in the distance lures me closer, but it's quickly broken by the sound of a knock at my door.
I've never been one to care about locks being in place, but here, it's a godsend. Looking down at the length of myself, I'm already dressed for the day, constantly on guard and ready to attack when necessary.
Begrudgingly, I push myself up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before I trudge toward the door. The lock barely turns before the wood comes sailing toward me, and I'm greeted with the awful sight of Walker.
I can't decide if I would have preferred him or my brother.
At least with my brother, I know what I’m getting myself into. I know how to approach him and how to prepare for his proximity. But I still can’t quite figure out the guy before me. All I know is that I can't stand him because of the limited details I know about what he put Elodie through.
Fuck knows I don’t know the entirety of that situation. Not that I want to, it will only make me more thirsty for his blood.
“You've been summoned,” he grunts, raking his eyes over me from head to toe before peering around into my room. What he’s searching for, I have no clue, but I also have no interest in asking either.
“Do you enjoy being his minion?” I ask, cocking a brow at him, eager to get under his skin, but he doesn't even roll his eyes as he takes a step back, waving a hand down the hallway for me to follow.
I don't know what it is about his presence that irks me so much, but it's one of the rare occasions I feel myself in the middle of a pissing contest, and it's definitely over Elodie.
Does he know her better than I do?
Has he seen her the way I have?
I want to gouge his fucking eyeballs out.
Thankfully, silence greets us as we make our way through the halls, finding our way to my brother's office a few moments later.
The man in question sits relaxed in a leather armchair, nestled perfectly behind his mahogany desk.
The window portrays the perfect background behind him, flashing with a storm.
A complete contrast to the visual at my window earlier.
It’s calculated.
Everything is with him.
Whatever emotion he’s hoping to achieve from it, I don’t care, but it’s clear there’s an air of malice around him as he steeples his fingers together, looking at me over the tips.
“I have a task for you,” he states, and I sigh, acutely aware of Walker closing the door behind me, but I force myself to remain relaxed.
“What now? I wasn't aware I returned to become one of your minions,” I grumble, making sure to put up a fight, just as I usually would. “I’m here for greater things, Brother,” I add, desperate to speed this shit along as his eyebrows furrow.
“You're here to do as I command,” he states, far calmer than I expect as he pushes a piece of paper toward the end of the desk… toward me. “This.”
I shrug.
“I’m not here for menial tasks or to do your bidding. Isn’t that what Walker is for?” I reiterate, enjoying the tick to his jaw far too much as his nostrils flare.
“Amuse me.”
It's a command, one etched into every fiber of his words, and despite my desire to stay rooted to the spot and push back, the burning tingle under my arm linking me to the magic, to Elodie, ignites.
Without warning, it forces me forward two steps to see the paper has an image of a man printed on the front and his details listed beside it.
Name: Jeremiah Kingston.
Ability: Bend matter
Purpose: Ensure nothing stands in my way!
“Am I supposed to care about this guy?” I grunt, and my brother sighs, leaning back in his seat. His hands shift, dropping to the arms of his chair as he curls his fingers around the ends.
“He doesn't wish to make himself useful to me, Brother. We can't have that now, can we?” he states, the promise in the undertone of his words is clear. Just like I’m not following his commands.
“So it is bestowed upon you to ensure that by the end of the day, that's no longer the case,” he clarifies, his words slow and measured, like they're intent on driving the point home, yet that burning sensation under my arm doesn't quell.
If anything, it intensifies.
“I’m not killing yet another person for you,” I grumble, and Jude leans forward in his seat, squinting slightly as he takes me in.
“What are your actual intentions here, Kael, if not to follow my command?” he asks, and I shrug.
“I’m here to right the wrongs in this world,” I start, my words concise despite the adrenaline lacing through me. “I’m here to bring down those who no longer deserve control, and I'm here with the intention of watching it all crumble.”
“At whose command?” he asks, and I give him a pointed look.
“Yours, of course.”
I don’t believe my own ears, but he seems to as he nods, his shoulders easing of tension as he offers me a flat smile.
“Good. You almost had me a little nervous there, Kael. I was worried it was me you were trying to dethrone.”
If the shoe fits.
This motherfucker would need a throne to be dethroned from, but I think better of expressing that and keep my mouth shut.
“We both know it’s The Sanctum I'm referring to. This is all their doing. It's time we corrected it.”
“Good, then you will kill this man if I don't have what I want from him. By the end of the day,” he reiterates, and I have to fight against the wince of pain under my arm.
“If not?” I ask, and he smiles, the wicked kind that starts deep in his soul.
“You don't want me to threaten you, Brother. We both know I always deliver on my threats,” he murmurs, running his tongue along his bottom lip.
There are so many occasions he is referring to, I almost test my luck, but decide to do so in a more productive way.
“Noted. But might I ask why we're not just storming The Vale? And are instead bullying a man into bending to your will when you already have so many subordinates.” His nostrils flare, but I proceed, the magic seemingly hellbent on having me die today. “I believed you when you said the girl was the last key. I believed you when you said she was all that was needed to finally bring justice to us, to our family, to our world.” I tilt my head, waiting for a response, but a verbal one doesn’t come.
Instead, my brother launches to his feet, hurtling over the desk at me. His fingers curl around my throat as he slams my back against the closest wall.
I want to fight back, I want to show him I’m no longer a child, but the intense sensation under my arm remains, like the magic binding me to Elodie is in full effect, and every slicing word falling from my mouth is to protect her.
All I can do is hope, because fuck knows I have no control.
“We'll storm The Vale when I say we storm The Vale. We will take down The Sanctum when I say we will take down The Sanctum. I will have the girl when I say so. Only then will everything fall into place; at my command,” he snarls, his voice like poison, thickening in the air as he digs his fingers deeper into my throat.
“Then let me know when you're done wasting my time,” I rasp, my limbs surprisingly relaxed despite his proximity and his ability to remain unhinged and unpredictable.