Chapter 8
Everyone goes deathly quiet as a wide grin forms across Malachi’s face.
“Did I startle you all? I apologize for my abrupt arrival. I rushed in, knowing I was late. Something had me quite held up this evening,” he continues, directing a menacing smile toward us, pausing on me for a moment.
He claps, stopping the dancers and the music. The dancer who had her eyes transfixed on Silas now stares at Malachi with wide eyes.
“You all are dismissed.” He lifts his hands, and a gust of shadows pushes the doors open abruptly.
Eager to flee from his presence, they hurry out of the room.
Silas glares at him, and I glance down when I feel his grip tightening around my leg.
Aerona speaks first. “I’m glad you could make it, honey. We didn’t start dinner without you, only the entertainment.”
He dismisses her, more aggressively this time.
Malachi clears his throat. “It’s an exciting time in Andorwood.
We rarely have guests of this kind of status.
” He emphasizes the last word, as if it were sour on his tongue.
“Oak Hombern, all the way from Brinkym. The son of Soren and Hera Hombern. I met your parents a long while ago. How are they?”
“They are well. Thanks for asking,” Oak responds. “Andorwood is just lovely.”
Malachi’s lips curl. “Sarcasm. Just like your father. I should have anticipated that.”
“I guess it runs in the family.”
Malachi flashes an unamused grin. “Humor like that can get you killed with bad timing."
“Hasn’t happened yet,” Oak quips.
Malachi, growing impatient at the joking, growls out, “Yet.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Your Majesty,” Maines interjects, attempting to ease the rising tension toward Oak. “We do appreciate you being open to our presence here.”
“Ah, yes. Maines Madden. I heard of the passing of your father and brother recently,” Malachi says with a shrug. “I can’t say I was upset at the news.”
Maines’s eyebrows raise, and Oak furrows his, ready to fight should Maines react poorly to the statement.
“Their passings were inevitable. I knew their actions would have consequences one day,” Maines says, sharply. “There are few people who will miss them.”
Oak makes a fist on the table, and I hear Fen whisper to him, “Calm down. Right now.”
He takes her advice and settles back into his chair.
Malachi moves down the table with his eyes. “Who else do we have here? Larkin, Warrick, and Fen—good evening and welcome back.”
They dip their heads in silent acknowledgment.
Sweat starts to bead on my brow, and I realize who’s left for him to address. I take a breath—counting to ten—already attempting to calm my racing heart.
“Silas,” the King of Andorwood says, in a deathly calm voice, “welcome home, my son.”
Silas tenses. “Hello, Malachi.”
The world seems to pause, and an unsettling silence moves through the room.
“Thank you for ruining yet another Andorwood ship,” his father mocks. “Seems to be a pattern with your foolish antics.”
“We saved dozens of people in the process.” Silas leans forward. “A ship can be rebuilt; lives cannot.”
“So noble of you, Silas.”
Shadows begin to flicker off of Silas’s back as his anger grows, but Malachi brushes him off and finally returns his gaze to me again.
“Briar Blackbyrne, the Queen of Daramveer in Andorwood. I believe I’ve seen it all, now.” He looks around, wanting the others to join in with his amusement. “Your father is probably rolling in the grave you put him in.”
The others watch intensely, as if the room might explode at any moment. Their stares are scorching, like the sun's rays against my back, but I ignore his dig and maintain my cool facade, refusing to give him the reaction he wants.
“Daramveer has fallen. My people have fled, and the Great Wiitches pose a terrible threat to us all.”
Malachi leans back, crossing his ankle over his leg, as if bored.
“I’m here to save our realm from destruction.”
His brow rises. “And who travels with you?”
I glance behind me, ready to speak about Maines, Oak, and Rose—who is still safely on the ship with Captain Darcy. I open my mouth to speak, and Malachi raises a hand.
“No.” He glances at my hands. “Not them.”
I narrow my eyes at him, allowing my shadows to ripple around me for a second, refusing to back down from this man. Silas slowly turns his head, horrified at my challenge toward his father, but I push further, darkening the room around us.
“Briar, breathe,” Silas pleads.
I cut my eyes to his, but don’t speak.
“Why spoil the fun we’re about to have, son?” Malachi raises his hands as he says, condescendingly, “Now, let her make her own choices.”
“Do not speak to him that way,” I snap.
Malachi laughs. “I will do what I want with my son. I have his entire life, and I won’t stop now because you are here.”
I glance at Silas, preparing for the anger radiating off of him to blind me, but to my surprise, he sits back in his chair.
“Now, answer me,” Malachi demands. “Who travels with you?”
My blood begins to boil.
“You know who lives within me. I’m not here to play games.” The black veins on my hands begin to throb. “And I think it would be unwise for you to ignore the fact that we’re going to war soon. Your entire kingdom is at risk, and here you are, taunting us.”
“Taunting you?” He angles his head. “I’m having a conversation.”
I huff a sarcastic laugh.
“Malachi, you know why I’m here,” Silas chimes in. “We need the help of the Andorwood army. We need to build a following. With their help, we can stop the enemy from burning this realm to the ground.”
Malachi moves back in his chair, relaxing his shoulders. “Andorwood will never help her. She will destroy us all.” He picks at his nails. “Just look at what she’s done to her own kingdom.”
I open my mouth to speak, but a voice from down the table echoes instead.
“How dare you?” Maines snaps from her seat. “She is the queen—an equal to you, in case you forgot—so, I would show her some respect.”
Malachi laughs. “You are all such fools. I suggest you not get comfortable in Andorwood.”
“Why is that?” Maines barks back.
“I’ll have the ship ready for your departure in two days.”
“You won’t even give us a chance?” I interject, coolly. “Meet with me privately. Let’s discuss this like leaders. Your actions are making you seem like a child."
Anxiety twists in my guts, and I fear my luck is running out.
“A child? I’m protecting my people from you. Look at you.” His gaze burns through me. “The dress you wear is as crimson as the blood on your filthy, stained hands,” Malachi claps back.
Silas slams his fists onto the table and stands with force.
“Enough!”
The table shakes with force, and shadows gather on his back like a towering tidal wave. A breeze flows through the room, casting a chill over all of us, and I swear for a moment his eyes glow green.
“I refuse to sit here and listen to you speak to her that way,” he steethes.
“You are the only fool here, Malachi, and if you won’t join us, then we’ll watch Andorwood burn to the ground along with the rest of this world.
” Silas’s eyes darken, and the room pulses with his anger.
“Have the fucking ship prepared. We will leave.”
He cuts his furious eyes to mine and grabs my hand, pulling me to stand with him.
Oak and Maines stand with us, leaving Warrick, Fen, and Larkin seated at the table, unmoving. Silas turns his back, and we move across the hard, smooth stone. With each step toward the door, I feel our chance slipping away.
I feel our future is turning to ruin, just like the nightmares that have haunted me.
“She will destroy you, son.” Malachi stands at our departure. “You are bound to her, and she will be your downfall. Briar will drag you to the darkest realm,” he yells.
Silas throws an uncaring look over his shoulder, and rips open the wide doors.
“Then let her destroy me. Let her fucking ruin me. I’d happily allow Briar to be the reason I crumble," Silas fumes. “Because life without her, I fear, would be darker than any fate I can imagine.”
My eyes stay locked on his, and I watch jade flames blaze in his irises, an unimaginable anger directed toward his father.
The four of us exit the Great Hall, and Malachi’s words hang heavy on my shoulders.
“Fucking idiot,” Silas mumbles under his breath as he charges toward our rooms, up the massive staircase.
“Are we really leaving?” Maines calls from behind us. “Without even trying?”
“After that, I’d be surprised if he spoke to us again at all,” Oak replies.
Silas’s grip remains tight on my hand, like he can’t bear to be distanced from me, or he’s fearful I’ll somehow slip away.
Neither of us replies to Maines and Oak’s questions as we round the final corner before our rooms. I can feel the fury leaking off Silas’s body, and between steps, I trace my thumb against his hand in a desperate attempt to calm him.
I’m not sure how, but his thoughts and emotions swirl inside my own mind like an irate sea.
Hate.
That’s all I can feel.
Silas strides to his door, waving his hand before the golden snake’s. The black jeweled eyes turn in his presence, and the door unlocks with a loud click.
“Get inside,” he demands.
Oak pushes past Silas, eagerness propelling him forward, and enters the onyx-filled room. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
The large bedroom before us exudes dark elegance, evoking both ominous and regal vibes—a space perfectly curated for the Prince of Darkness.
At the center of the room stands a grand four-poster bed draped in luxurious black silk sheets.
Various decorative elements—including an antique mirror and ornate, Gothic sconces—enhance the beautifully grim atmosphere.
A towering fireplace dominates the far wall with dark antique furniture arranged around it.
“This was your room as a child?” Oak asks, looking around the dark room.
“Yes.” Silas rubs his temples. “Until I moved out, this was my bedroom.”
“It’s...inviting.” Oak makes a pained face. “Explains a lot.”