Chapter 23
Jasper was the first to break the awkward tension, mumbling something about needing a drink as he ambled toward the bar cart at the back of the room. He poured two fingers of whiskey, noticing how Castor kept his watchful gaze trained on my every move, and quickly downed the glass before pouring another.
He grabbed the bottle and four crystal lowballs before returning to us, setting them on the table. “Figured we might want this,” he said, gesturing toward the liquor.
“I’m fine,” Castor said, bristling as Ballard and Elios inched closer and poured drinks for themselves.
Elios sat down in the chair Calia had vacated, picking at a piece of lint on his suit as he leaned back in the plush leather. He held up the glass, admiring the deep amber liquid against the light. “I have never been one to refuse a drink, especially not as fine as this.” He closed his eyes and took a tentative sip, groaning as the flavors of vanilla and oak landed on his tongue. “Your father had fine taste, Rion.”
“How did you know it was from his collection?” I asked, tracing the rim of my glass in idle worry.
“I met him a time or two throughout his life. He had this air of pride about him that I believe most saw as arrogance. That could not have been further from the truth. He was interested in justice, where others couldn’t see past the thickness of their wallets. This whiskey, though… It sat in his office. He didn’t use it much, save for special occasions.” He tipped his head, lips curling into a knowing smile. “Such as the announcement of his first and only son.”
A shiver ran through me, causing goosebumps to pepper my skin. I ached from the loss of a man I wished was still here. A man who would have taught me what it meant to be a good husband and, eventually, perhaps, a good father.
I took great comfort in knowing that the man I idolized was revered by a god. Not just for a good deed here or there, but for giving a shit about those around him in a way most others did not. Our family line was full of arranged marriages, perhaps predominantly because of the curse binding Darrow and D’Arcy. I knew that was how my parents came to be.
But how he could stand to be in the same room as my mother for extended periods was beyond me. My conception had taken nearly two centuries. Yet, he fulfilled his role and duty as the patriarch of our clan without complaint or chagrin.
Despite his kind nature, I knew my father was the only person my mother ever truly feared. I saw it in her eyes the day he had come home to find me naked, shivering in the deepest dark of the deprivation chamber.
His features morphed into pure malice, fangs elongated to a fine point as he turned to her and snarled words I could not hear. It had been enough. Whatever he said had her scurrying to grab my clothes and push me up the stairs before I could register the roar of pain echoing from below my feet.
Elios’ voice drew me back to the present. “Not that he knew who I was, mind you, but I took it upon myself to keep an eye on the council after the fall of the royal Darrow line. That is how I met Ballard here, by popping in occasionally,” he said, gesturing at the witch beside him.
Jasper knew where I had gone, nudging me ever so slightly with the tip of his shoe. Are you okay?
That question proved challenging, but he had done more than enough worrying on my behalf. I could not bring myself to add to that burden, so I nodded once.
An ear splitting screech pierced the quiet night, stilling the glass in my hand. “Calia,” I breathed, each of us on our feet and rushing out the door before her name had left my lips.
With my power, I searched the surrounding area, instantly finding Calia’s guarded wall. How was I supposed to know if she was alright if I could not penetrate her thoughts?
It only took a moment for us to slide into the foyer. Castor stopped at the threshold with a snarl, barred from stepping out beneath the moon’s glow. Ballard stayed behind as Jasper, Elios, and I flew past in a blur. We aimed for the speck of light in the distance, the small cabin that abutted our family’s estate.
There was no hint of blood in the air, and the only fear was mine, as we slowed our approach, swinging open the door without concern for what lay on the other side. I scanned the scene before me with wide eyes as Jasper and Elios laughed. Their voices echoed off the worn flooring as we took in the gaggle of limbs sprawled below.
Anya and Calia clung to one another, tears flowing freely down their faces as Rowena, Brielle, and Sloane stood by and watched from a healthy distance. Joining the fray were three dogs the size of miniature ponies, their happy tongues lolling out from the side of their massive jowls.
They turned toward the door on alert, prowling in front of the ladies with laid-back ears and a growl that rattled the walls. Their coal-black eyes bore into us, assessing the threat as though they could truly keep me from her if she were in harm’s way.
Calia and Anya pulled apart, laughing as they ran their fingers along the raised hackles of the beasts standing proud. “Calm down, babies,” they both crooned in soft, lilting voices. “It’s just those pesky men.”
Elios and Jasper laughed, but my heart would not rest. I fought against the urge to run to my wife, to take her in my arms and breathe in that minty scent that could only belong to her. I wanted to run my lips across her skin and kiss every inch, knowing she was safe and unharmed here in our home—or close enough.
But I could not do any of that.
Anya pushed to her feet, surging toward me so fast it caught me off guard. My back stood flush against the door, the doorknob digging painfully into my spine. I winced. “How long have you known?” she hissed, jabbing a finger into my chest.
“Anya,” Calia warned, but Anya paid no heed.
“You fed me the bullshit about her being dead—let the council’s excuse fall from your lips like honey, but you knew, and you didn’t tell me! She was my friend!”
Her voice broke on the last word, a fragmented truth that she did not want to escape. I hated it, hated the fact I had almost cost her someone we both loved beyond reason. And though I had not known Calia was still alive, I would not do anything to stop Anya from taking out her anger and frustration on me. If this was the outlet she needed, so be it. I would take everything she had to give in repentance for the way I had treated her, even if she deserved much more than this.
“Anya!” Calia stormed over and gripped her friend’s arm, yanking her back. Anya stood, staring between us as Calia released her grip. “He didn’t know, okay? No one did. I had to keep it secret, and?—”
Calia sensed the shift in her friend’s demeanor the moment Anya’s face fell. This was more than a careless secret one may hold tight to their chest; this was something that had dramatically altered Anya’s life and the lives of everyone Calia touched. Had she thought herself dispensable? That she would not be missed? The thought sent a fresh wave of frustration through me.
I had seen it in her mind before, her willingness to think herself inconsequential. I was not sure how to even begin mending the damage left behind by years of past trauma, especially not when I was unable to repair my own. But surely, she must know how wrong she was?
She was the heart of this place, the single person who breathed life into each of us in a way that could not be forgotten or overcome.
Before Calia could assuage the hurt, Jasper cut in and drew the rising tension his way. “Not that we aren’t eternally thankful no one was harmed,” he said, widening his stance. “But why the fuck did someone scream as though they were being dragged into the woods and eaten?”
Rowena stepped up, placing her hands around Anya’s shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze. “We all may have gotten a little bit too excited,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Oops.”
“Oops?” Jasper echoed, eyes narrowing.
“Yes,” Sloane said, stepping up. “Did she stutter?”
Calia watched the three of them with brief amusement, her eyes flitting back and forth as they continued their volley. But that faint flicker of joy faded, and I watched as something sharp and cold wormed its way in. She drew tightly into herself, like a creature burrowing into its shell for safety.
I wanted to be that for her—a haven she could run to, where I could whisper gentle comforts against her ear and feel that soft breath of relief against my heated skin as the tension in her body unfurled.
As though she felt my stare, she looked up. Her bright green eyes were lined with silver, aching with the familiar desire I had felt from her not long ago. My hand twitched at my side as I warred with myself about whether to act on my urges or stay rooted to the spot.
I was weak when I took my first step toward her. As my foot rose for the second, she annihilated my hope, breaking our contact and forcing a tight smile. “Now that you know everything is safe here, care to leave us alone?” She glanced at Anya. “I think there are some things I need to explain.”
Her words should not have affected me the way they did, but seeing her willingness to give answers to anyone other than me was like salt in a gaping wound.
“Of course. Take your time,” Elios said, stepping out the door. “Your uncle is bound to the manor until dawn, regardless.” He waved at the ladies with an elegant flourish, tucking his hands in his pockets and humming a tune as he headed toward the house.
Jasper clapped me on the back, guiding me from the house without so much as a glance. I let him move me, if only because I did not know if I was capable of moving myself.
“It’ll get better, brother,” he said quietly, ensuring the door was firmly closed before he spoke. “Things are strange right now, but give it some time.”
I did not have the heart to tell him I was unsure how long I could wait.