Chapter 31
Kal
I can’t remember the last time I walked into the palace without a sense of dread filling my gut.
Maybe as a child, when my mother was still alive, but even those memories are hazy.
I have pieces, flashes of her that come and go as quickly as clouds pass over the sun. I remember her warmth the most. She had this calming, unconditional love that poured out of her naturally, and she was always patient with me, even when my powers surfaced and I couldn’t control them.
I always felt safe in her presence.
I still trust my father, but not fully. Not when he rules alongside the others. I hate this feeling. Hate walking up these palace steps, entering through the grand doors, feeling like I might have to face an attack any second.
Enforcers line the walls as we walk down the grand hallway on the main level, guided by my father’s elite enforcer, Three.
He’s silent, as usual, but I can’t shake this feeling. I glance at Jax instinctually. If this was a normal situation, he’d give us a silent gesture for the vibes of the room, something that would give us an edge. But this isn’t a normal situation. It never will be again.
We contemplated Rylee trying to return our powers and hold them before coming to this event but ultimately decided against it.
While she’s been successful in the past, it’s unpredictable how long our powers would stay returned to us.
And the last thing we want is for our powers to snap back to her in front of the kings, revealing our sacrifice and losing our shot at the thrones.
I look at Rylee, who is on my left, Axl and Pierce on her other side, Jax to my right, the four of us forming a protective and supportive unit around our mate.
She stares straight ahead, chin held high, slipping into that mask I always see her put on right before she walks in here.
She holds all of our powers, not that anyone else knows that beyond the trusted circle, but damn what I wouldn’t give to know what’s happening inside her right now.
Does she feel the tension in the enforcers with Jax’s powers, or am I being paranoid?
Can she feel my energy down our bond? I don’t want to shake her up.
I try to calm myself, stroking that bond between us in a soothing way in an attempt to hide my nerves. This place shouldn’t feel like a trap waiting to spring—it should be a safe haven for us. Maybe someday. If we can finish this and take the thrones.
If not?
I can’t allow myself to think that way.
“Right on time,” my father says as we’re led into the main ballroom.
The kings are sitting on a raised dais, as per usual.
Three takes his spot next to my father, the other elites next to their assigned king.
They’re standing at attention, which gives me pause.
Are they prepared for an outburst? A scene?
Fuck me, what are they about to drop on us? On Rylee?
Things have been too quiet lately. Our time with Rylee, training her, being with her, it’s all felt like a glimpse at a future I’ve only dreamed of. I knew the kings wouldn’t offer us that peace for long.
Out of habit, I reach for a power that’s not mine anymore, finding the bond between my mate and me instead.
It fills a different spot inside my soul, and I know if I follow it, I’ll find my power on the other end.
It doesn’t mean I can take it, especially not long enough to risk Rylee.
Even knowing this, all I want to do is grab her and fly out of here.
“Indeed,” Brooks says from where he sits, nodding to his son.
Pierce nods back, then dips in a gracious bow to the Royal Authority Council, who sit just below the dais, all eyes on us.
I don’t like the way Margreet is positioned in front of Baydel, who is in the middle, a smirk on her face that looks like she’s just won some competition she’s been vying for.
She knows something, and whatever it is, it doesn’t bode well for us.
“Your highnesses,” Rylee says in a soft, sweet voice that doesn’t match her true energy at all.
I hate it. Hate that she feels like she needs to perform, but I also admire her for it.
She plays the game so well, it’s a marvel she hasn’t been doing it her entire life. She does it better than any of us.
Baydel smiles down as she bows, and we follow suit and half bow as well.
“Thank you for coming,” Baydel says. “Today’s matters are quite urgent.”
I spare a look to my friends, practically holding my breath.
Each of us is tense and trying not to show it.
It’s in moments like this that I wish we’d taken Baydel up on his previous offer, challenged them all and been done with it.
Of course, we couldn’t have done that, not without our powers, but at least we wouldn’t have to deal with this incessant bullshit.
“The Royal Authority Council and I have come up with a critical task,” Baydel says, grinning down at us. “It will be crucial in our decision process.”
I draw in a breath, doing my best to control my pounding heart.
Baydel rises, jerking his head in a beckoning motion. “We need a word,” he says, eyeing Jax. The other kings rise as well, my father nodding to me.
Rylee moves to follow us as the kings head toward the double doors, but Baydel stops her with a raised hand. “Just the princes for now, little bug.”
I cringe at the demeaning pet name he’s given my mate and grind my teeth against the instinct to snap.
Rylee tilts her head, concern flashing in her blue eyes.
I scan the room, breathing a sigh of relief when I spot Mirren, Ivy, and Layce lingering in the back, almost hidden near the dining tables. They slowly make their way to Rylee, and it’s a small comfort to leave her behind with people we trust.
Not that she needs protection or that I think the RAC is going to launch some sort of attack on her, but right now, everything seems like a threat.
Rylee dips her head, moving toward the nearest open table and taking a seat, Ivy and Layce flanking either side, Mirren hovering behind the three like a concerned mother hen.
“Kal,” my father says, drawing my attention as he stands in the open doorway. The others are already gone.
I quicken my pace after one last assuring look at Rylee and follow my father down the hallway and into one of the smaller gathering rooms near the ballroom.
This one has walls lined with thick tapestries, the woven fabric glistening in our signature colors with depictions of our mothers’ statues.
A fire crackles in the wide hearth on the focal wall, casting the thick rug of gold and red in warmth.
Rich brown leather chairs are arranged in a way that begs casual conversation, but it’s the four vials sitting on the center of the end table that send ice through my veins.
The vials are basic enough—cylindrical glass capped with a small cork—-but it’s the murky green liquid inside giving off the foreboding vibes.
“The fuck is that?” Axl says without preamble, jabbing a finger toward the table as our fathers urge us to sit next to them.
“Sit down,” Lucas demands, having already selected a seat around the table.
Axl looks like he’ll argue, but I give him a silent warning. We’re in no position, not without our powers. And more than that? Whatever we do in opposition will always come back to Rylee. We have to protect her at all costs, even if it kills our pride to do so.
So, we sit.
“This next test requires a bit of Occuli magic,” my father explains, motioning toward the vials.
Jax has a blade out, fiddling with it like he couldn’t be more bored. Pierce’s eyes are calculating as he stares at his father, and Axl is shaking his head like he won’t be swayed.
“What is the next test?” I ask to move the conversation along. I’m usually the one who can keep my tone level enough to do so, and I’m happy to perform that role for our group.
Baydel grins, his hands coming together in a point. “It will accomplish two things, but really, it’s a test for your mate. The RAC insisted.”
I arch a brow. They insisted or he forced them to insist? I can never tell with him.
“Again,” Axl growls. “What the fuck is that?”
Lucas grabs a vial from the table. “Drink it.”
Axl takes the vial but doesn’t uncork it. His eyes meet mine.
I nod, fully understanding him. The last time we drank from a vial, we met our mothers after Rylee died in the Athanry. That sort of thing leaves a lasting impression. This is triggering as fuck.
Not that the kings know that. They weren’t there when it all happened, thanks to Jax’s explosion of power driving everyone away.
And when we came to, after the incident with the Faders and Rylee, we replaced the remaining Athanry vials with a fake liquid so the kings wouldn’t be any the wiser.
The last thing we need is for them to know we drank every last drop of what our mothers left behind for us.
“It’s a binding tonic,” Baydel says with an air of excitement to his tone. “To ensure you won’t access your powers.”
“Why?” I ask as my father hands me a vial, a look of regret on his face.
“So you won’t interfere with the next task,” my father explains.
I glance to Pierce, who takes his, leaving it corked. This is usually the moment he’d speak to us mind-to-mind, giving us an edge. That won’t be happening today.
Shit, if this stuff will deny us access to our powers, what will it do to us without any?
My eyes go to Jax, who holds his own vial in his free hand.
The risk of asking such a question will give away too much.
Jax pops the cork out with the edge of his knife, sniffing at the mixture. His lip curls. “Your Occuli’s doing?” he asks Baydel.
“Naturally,” Baydel says, clearly pleased. “Frenrick is the best, and you remember how much I used to love to dabble in potions and tonics. We’ve worked on this one for a while yet. For this exact task.”
“You still haven’t told us what it consists of,” I say.
“And we won’t,” Baydel says, his look cutting to me. “Drink, and we’ll begin.”
Fuck me. The amount of trust they’re asking for is absolutely something we can’t give.
“You know what happens if you refuse,” Baydel reminds us. “The Royal Authority Council, along with the four of us, will never grant your ascension to the thrones.”
“You can’t rule forever,” Jax says, cold and low.
“I assure you,” Baydel says, eyes on his son, “I can.” He clears his throat. “Especially if I think for one second Lumathyst isn’t safe in your hands.”
I can. Not we can.
My heart pounds hard against my ribcage, apprehension clawing up my throat. I look to my father. He’s hard to read, but there’s hope in his eyes, and something else . . . a plea? He nods to the vial.
“The sooner you take it,” he says, “the sooner we can explain things to Rylee and get the task over with.”
“You sound like it should be rushed, Jullian,” Baydel quips. “Tests of this importance, years in the making, take time.”
My father ignores him.
I look to my friends. If we’re lucky, we take this and nothing happens. Since we don’t have our powers, there’s nothing for it to bind. But, since it was designed for someone with powers, what if the reactions will be different for someone who doesn’t?
We don’t have time to talk, to strategize, and in the kings’ eyes, we shouldn’t need to.
“How long will the effects last?” Pierce asks.
“A full day,” Brooks answers, earning a sour look from Baydel. “Two at most.”
It has an ending. That’s good to know. As long as the potion doesn’t kill us first.
Rylee would lay this palace flat if it did.
I silently pray to the goddesses, to the Fates beyond, that it doesn’t come to that.
“Cheers,” I say, but it sounds like a question. I uncork the vial and bring it to my lips.
My friends do the same, and silently, we swallow the potion at the same time.
Together. We always do anything important together.
Legends to whatever end.
The empty glass vials clank against the table as we set them down. I cough, clearing my throat of the viscous substance that seems to stick as it slides down my throat. My tongue tingles, almost going numb, and suddenly . . .
It’s hard to breathe.
My eyes widen, panic snapping through me.
Black edges my vision, my limbs heavy and thick as I sink deeper into the chair. My head lolls to the side, and it’s all I can do to look across the way to Axl, to Jax and Pierce, all of whom are in similar positions . . .
Then everything goes black.