Chapter 2
Alexander
Invaders were in my home, inside my walls, and attacking my people.
The sounds of screams and combat pierced the air.
Rowan and I slowed our run as what appeared to be a Lawson slid into our path.
Instead of his tie-dyed orange robes, a tunic made of the same material and leather trousers gave him more movement.
A sharp, curved sword sat in his grip, pointed directly at me.
I had two options here.
Influencing the minds of others wasn’t an easy task, nor was it a long-term solution. If a person was bright enough, they could logic their way around whatever control I’d wrestled from them. If their thoughts were strong enough, they could fight my control with pure determination.
Rowan drew his massive sword, the sharpened edge burning with his cold elemental Majekah. The Lawson’s eyes turned into saucers, but he didn’t back down. Lines of green formed in his free hand as Rowan took a step forward.
How many of my people faced this same violence?
I’d already scraped the surface thoughts of every man inside my walls. If I closed my eyes, I could see a map covered in little dots indicating the placement of every sentient creature. Our storeroom was developing a rodent problem, which I’d have to deal with later.
Fortunately for me, the fifty-odd men invading my home were not strong. Paid mercenaries made up half the invaders, and Cayden’s zealot family filled in the gaps.
I could stop this violence; I just had to break my rules.
The Lawson fired his spell, and Rowan caught it on his massive sword, sending the chunk of dark green spinning into the sky.
The real problem wasn’t this man or any of the minions dueling it out with my people, but the three already in my Alun.
Rowan swung, and the Lawson dropped flat to avoid being cut in half. My indecision stretched the moment into slow motion.
When I took my castle, I simply used my mental magic to let the occupants know I was now the owner.
They walked out with a few false memories of conflict to make it believable.
My plan worked beautifully, except no one outside of these walls believed my planted lie.
The families immediately pegged me as a mentalist, and I’d spent the last seven years mitigating that damage by using mind magic as little as possible.
But had I truly done anything?
My enemies still wanted me dead for existing. Now, with the powerhouse from the past willingly at my side, even my allies were quick to call foul play.
The code I lived by made me feel safe. However, it was a false sense of security. I’m sure some of the people around me appreciated it, but others saw my guidelines as a show they didn’t believe I followed anyway.
Rowan and the Lawson charged each other.
Killing wasn’t an option unless they made it one. But if they insisted on fearing me, I’d give them a reason.
My eyes widened, vision going distant, while my magic slid into the fear nodes of the minds breaching my home.
Their nightmares weren’t mine to script. I merely opened the door and let terror rush in.
The first shriek pierced the air, and I smiled. I hated that it made me smile, but this was control—raw power. And it felt too good. If they lived through the night, they should quiver at the very thought of ever coming near my castle again.
Another scream followed, cut off by a sickening hack. Within moments, the night filled with a chorus of fear and pain. Rowan trembled in front of me. To his credit, he didn’t run. My fear didn’t affect him. He only witnessed the results, and for the first time, he experienced what I could do.
A whimper slipped out of our attacker, and the sharp stench of piss hit the air.
Instead of running, he stepped closer, one reckless step toward me.
Rowan moved first. Steel flashed, and his massive sword drove into the man’s side with a sickening thud, punching straight through muscle until it struck bone.
The elemental grunted, braced, and with a second brutal push, Rowan finished the cut.
The body split. Blood and viscera spilled across the cobbles in steaming ropes.
My fear—chewing through the invader’s rational mind—released him only when the light left his eyes.
Those still trapped in my fear screamed into the night, a chorus of the damned.
A younger version of me would have bled for the lives lost…
but the man I’d become understood choices.
I couldn’t carry the world’s guilt. They’d invaded my home.
Now it was up to my people to decide whether to let them run or cut them down where they stood. I wouldn’t judge either choice.
‘If anyone makes it to the gate, let them go so they can let the world know.’ I directly imprinted my need onto my enforcers at the gate. I didn’t wait for their response; their will was mine.
The screams eased. A few men sprinted past me, one even dressed in my trainee uniform. My smile faltered. All my advisors warned me against letting just anyone into my walls. They pointed out I was uniquely able to find out anyone's true intentions, but that would have broken my code.
My fear targeted one of my own because he wasn’t loyal to me. I was letting evil into my castle to appease the world at large. Anger boiled just under my skin, and this time, I let it simmer.
In minutes, what had been a battlefield raging inside my walls turned into a graveyard.
Blood dripped off Rowan’s blade. He still stood guard in front of me, a pillar of muscle and loyalty, but my mind could taste his unease. His emotions obliterated the little power high my magic had given me, but I wouldn’t take back my actions.
Because I held back, Horax was able to take Quinn.
Because I held back, three men now held my Alun.
Bile turned the back of my throat into acid.
My TB buzzed as reports filled it. One by one, my officers, with a handful of others, checked in, assessing damage and requesting help for the injured. My focus shifted to the person I’d abandoned.
‘Quinn?’ I asked my lover.
His thoughts came back to me in a jumbled mess.
He was on his way home with Quinn, who was cold.
So cold. The rest was a collection of images and sensations.
He’d been in a fight. Inky cerulean-blue magic mixed with his and Cayden’s to destroy the Prophet, but something was going on in Quinn’s mind he didn’t understand.
Worse, my lover’s thoughts were fogged as if he struggled to stay awake yet couldn’t sleep.
At the moment, I could do nothing for either of them until they returned. For now, I needed to secure my walls so they had a home to come back to.
“Quinn’s safe and a few hours away,” I said for Rowan’s benefit. I took out my TB. “Do not leave my side. They’re still in my Alun.”
Rowan grunted. “Who’s they?”
I scowled, having already brushed their minds. “Erick Adler Michelson did not come here to join my family.”