Chapter 2 Lily
LILY
Hawk sat in the armchair in front of Father’s desk, staring at the mahogany surface like Dad was seated there looking over the scrolls he’d received that morning.
Hawk had inherited our father’s quiet persona, saying very little until actually needed.
Dad had never been that way with us and Mom, but to everyone else, he was a statue.
I sat in the other armchair and watched my brother lounging, arms relaxed on the armrests, dead behind the eyes. He already knew what had happened to Dad because Mom had told him. He hadn’t volunteered to go with her, instead choosing to stay with me.
“Mom told me you’re in charge now.” He continued to look at the desk as he spoke.
I could feel his disappointment, his resentment as real as the air we breathed. One moment, he was supportive of my rulership, and the next moment, he wasn’t. Maybe because it had all been conjecture previously—but now this was reality. “I don’t want to fight about it, Hawk.”
“He’s unfit for the crown.”
My eyes flicked to the corner behind my father’s high-backed armchair and saw him standing there in his full attire, staring me down like I was the one in the wrong.
“Do not yield.”
Hawk raised both hands in mock surrender. “I don’t want to fight either. Just saying.”
“I told you before that I don’t want this to come between us.”
“Do not yield.” Wrath’s eyes bored into my face with black flames.
My brother straightened in his chair before he turned to look at me directly. “I was supposed to go to Riviana Star, but because you wanted to go, I was forced to stay behind. How will I ever show Dad what I’m capable of if you’re always given priority?”
“He’s a child.”
“Hawk, our father may never wake up again, and all you care about is the crown?” I didn’t want to cause a rift with my brother at this delicate time, but Wrath was right—he needed a reality check.
He gave an irritated sigh. “I don’t mean it that way—”
“We’re at war with an enemy we don’t know, Dad is incapacitated, and Mom is so overcome with grief that she’s also incapacitated.
I’ve never felt so alone, Hawk. Never felt so utterly terrified in my life.
I’m worried that I don’t have what it takes to protect this kingdom and lead us to victory, but I’m obviously more qualified for the position than you if I can understand the monstrous responsibility and immense burden it is.
If I’m not sitting here thinking about myself when I should only think of others. ”
He stared at me for several heartbeats as if he couldn’t believe the words I said. “That’s not how it is—”
“That’s exactly how it is.” I didn’t want to put my brother in his place, didn’t want to be his mother instead of his sister, but now I understood exactly what Dad meant when he described Hawk’s ineptitude.
“My rulership is temporary. When Dad recovers and this war is over, it’ll belong to him once more.
We should be working together to make sure that happens, not bickering about who has the power. ”
He looked away, his profile showing the tightening of his jawline. But he didn’t argue with me or try to dig himself out of this hole.
“I need you, Hawk. I can’t do this alone.”
He continued to stare at the desk.
“Dad has told me multiple times how skilled a fighter you are. That you’re a military strategist who is fit to be a general. That you’re an adversary he wouldn’t want to meet across the battlefield. I need you.”
“If I’m such a great fighter and a strategist, then why didn’t he pick me?” he snapped. “When you bowed out, he came back to me, but the second you were an option, he dropped me again like I burned his hands. You know how much that hurts? To always be the second option?”
A wave of pity disturbed the ocean in my heart.
He turned to look at me, eyes red-hot with Dad’s temper. “It really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry, Hawk.”
“A ruler is more than a good swordsman,” Wrath said. “A ruler is wise and selfless and merciful and savage.”
Hawk gave a slight shake of his head. “You know you have my sword and my shield and whatever else you’ll need for what’s to come. You know I’d lay down my life for yours. It just…pisses me off. And now, Dad might not live, and I’ll never get the chance to tell him off.”
“You might never see him again, and all you want is to yell at him?” I asked incredulously.
Hawk wouldn’t look at me.
“Fight him.”
I turned back to Wrath.
He remained where he stood in the corner.
My eyebrows rose as I questioned what he said.
“Victor takes the crown. That’ll humble him into submission.”
I couldn’t respond like I normally could.
I wished I could talk to him in my head the way I did with Zehemoth.
My father had always complimented my brother’s fighting abilities, and I had witnessed his strength with my own eyes.
Not only was he strong, but he moved faster than his bulkiness should allow.
But with Wrath’s immense strength contained inside my small body, I knew I could defeat my brother.
“I challenge you to a duel. Winner takes the crown.”
There was a noticeable flinch in Hawk’s body before he turned to look at me, eyebrows scrunched like he couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“And the loser accepts the outcome with no contestations.” My arm rested on the armrest as I stretched it out to him to shake his hand.
He eyed it for a moment, the glint of hope in his eyes, a chance to take what he believed should have been his.
He saw it as an opportunity to prove his worthiness, and I saw it as an opportunity to show him why Father had championed me since we were kids.
He reached out and took it. “No contestations.”
We donned our armor and grabbed our blades before we met in the courtyard.
Wrath walked at my side, the ghost that no one could see, the wind in my cape and the eyes in the back of my head.
“You can’t help me with this,” I said as I looked ahead, seeing Hawk waiting for me in the clearing between the benches and the red geranium flowers in the terra-cotta pots. “Needs to be fair.”
“My strength is a gift that I’ve given to the woman in my heart. I will not take it back.”
A flush moved through me that left a trail of goose bumps behind. “I meant you can’t give me pointers. Tell me how and when he’s coming for me. Can’t be the eyes in the back of my head in this case, can’t narrate the fight for my advantage.”
Wrath gave no protest, only nodded. “You don’t need it anyway, Xivin.”
I approached Hawk where he waited for me, in the full armor that represented our military and bore our family crest. He wielded a two-handed blade that was visible over one of his muscular shoulders.
This felt like a waste of time considering the current state of our kingdom, but I needed to settle this dispute once and for all, to earn my brother’s dedication the way I’d earned my father’s. My father had ruled with respect rather than fear, and I wanted to do the same.
I unsheathed my blade and took my stance.
He did the same, a silent standoff ensuing, my brother wearing a more stoic expression than he did in poker.
Wrath kept a respectable distance to watch.
We continued to stare at each other, neither of us wanting to make the first strike. He took a step to start circling me.
To throw him off, I didn’t move, just pivoted my body and waited for him to come to me like prey.
He hesitated, like he didn’t know what to make of the approach.
I decided to inhabit his space, to be the one to make him uncomfortable, to grow taller as I came closer, holding a blade that was too heavy for most women my size. It normally strained my muscles, but with Wrath’s power in my veins, it weighed nothing.
Then I launched my attack, slicing the heavy steel through the air with a speed that made the wind whistle.
He barely blocked my hit before he was driven back, losing his footing because all his energy went into his defense.
He sidestepped then moved back even farther, constantly being pushed in whatever direction I steered this ship.
I didn’t let him breathe, didn’t let him have the opportunity to turn the tide toward his offensive.
Never struck to wound or kill, just to tire him out from blocking and evading and avoiding.
He was breathless and visibly tired, so I dropped my blade and stepped back.
He panted as he moved away, his dark hair matted to his forehead from sweat that acted like glue. “How the fuck are you doing that?”
Just to taunt him, I spun the blade around my wrist. “Do you yield?”
“No,” he said like a stubborn child.
“Alright, then.” I was on him again, pursuing him like I was the predator and he was the prey.
I was honestly impressed by how well he handled me, basically taking on two fighters at once.
If he knew he battled the strength of the underworld, he would actually be proud of himself for holding his ground without the power of a dragon because he hadn’t fused either.
He was just a young man, continuing to fight because he was too stubborn to admit defeat.
I stepped back and gave him another reprieve.
“How are you this strong?” he yelled. “How?”
It was one of the rare times, maybe even the only time, I saw Wrath smile. With his arms crossed as he leaned against one of the full-grown olive trees, he looked thoroughly amused.
“Do you yield?” I asked again.
Hawk continued to pant, his forehead glistening with sweat, his entire armor set rising and falling with his deep breaths.
He held the sword at his side with a single hand while his eyes danced with ferocity.
Like a child who wanted to scream that this was unfair, he looked like he was about to burst.
But then after a few breaths, he released a sigh and sheathed his blade across his back. He didn’t look at me right away, as if trying to process the shame of his defeat, especially at the hands of his sister.
He eventually lifted his eyes and looked at me as he crossed the gap between us, handling his loss with as much grace as he could muster. “Yeah, I yield.”
I returned my blade to the scabbard across my back.
“Dad teach you all of that?”
“He taught me most of it. But I learned a lot more on the seas…and from other teachers.” Like the god of the underworld.
He gave a nod. “Guess Dad was right. You’re meant for this.”
Now I felt guilty for securing his respect in a deceitful way. I might have been a good swordsman, but it was Wrath’s strength that made me untouchable—and that wasn’t me.
“Don’t feel guilty.” Wrath knew me so well at this point that he could read my mind just from a look. “You’re the only one who could earn the undying devotion of a god. My strength is yours eternally.”
Hawk’s hand tightened into a fist against his chest before he dropped it. “I’ll serve you and our kingdom until my dying breath. Let’s prepare for war.”
“Thank you, Hawk.”
“I know Dad wanted us to wait to fuse until we’re older, but I think, under the circumstances, it’s necessary. We’ll need all the protection we can get if our enemies can inflict wounds that don’t heal.”
“Yeah, I agree.”
The sun had set over the horizon, and now the lit braziers really began to glow. The hot coals flickered and popped quietly in the distance. In a few hours, the stars would start to shine. It would be a beautiful night…if my heart weren’t completely broken.
Hawk looked at the stars for a moment before he looked at me again. “At least we still have each other.”
My eyes met his, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a real connection. Similar to what I had with Dad and Mom. Something that was our own. “Yeah.”
“I’m gonna head down to the port. Ask all the sailors if they know anything about these assholes.
Ships made of gold…that’s pretty distinctive.
” He patted me on the shoulder before he walked off.
“Night, sis. Or should I say…Your Highness.” He turned around to face me, walking backward, and with a smile that was nothing but playful, he gave a bow.
I chuckled. “Shut up.”
He laughed too and then continued on his way.
I watched him go until he returned to the castle.
Wrath appeared right before me, his cape blowing in the breeze, eyes contemplative.
I turned to look at him, a man half a foot taller than me, his chest at my eye level. I knew he had something to say, so I patiently waited for him to say it.
“Once you’re fused, our relationship will no longer be a secret.”
I’d expected him to say something about my brother’s character, to compliment the way I’d handled the fight, so it took me a second to process what he’d actually said.
“Your emotions will be deeply linked, so he’ll feel what you feel. He’ll know your heart and the fact that someone occupies it.”
It was presumptuous for him to assume, but he wasn’t wrong.
My heart beat for a man who died nearly four hundred years ago.
I made love to a ghost, a man I could only have in secret and never under the open sky.
He couldn’t father my children, not when he didn’t have seed to sow in my womb.
It would be impossible to explain to Zehemoth why I had a man in my life that he’d never seen in the flesh.
“It’s your decision—but I wanted you to be aware of the ramifications.”