11. Rae
RAE
If these were Rhys’s people, I understood why he looked part biker and part billionaire. They moved seamlessly—walking, yes, but it was almost as if they floated. There was no crack of sticks or other debris beneath their feet, no crunch of leaves. They moved silently and as one.
Their outfits didn’t exactly give away their otherworldliness, but they didn’t completely fit with what I was used to either. They wore what almost looked like motorcycle pants—leather or thick canvas that seemed to have some kind of armor embedded in it.
There was a variety of what they wore up top, though. Some were in what looked like leather armor, and others wore leather jackets. A few had on more formal dress coats. But one man led the pack.
He had gone straight for the billionaire look, wearing dress pants and a vest that looked custom-made. He also had a gold watch with what looked like diamonds surrounding its face, and a ring that matched one of Rhys’s: the one with the dark stone.
As I studied him closer, I realized that the ring wasn’t the only thing that matched—the angular jaw, the bent of the nose… I might’ve only taken plant genetics, but I knew enough to pick up on the fact that they were related.
The man’s hair was dark like Rhys’s, but his eyes were different. They were a hazel that blended the golden amber of Rhys’s with green.
He held no weapons but also had no fear. Likely because he had twenty-four people at his back, all armed to the teeth.
The man’s lip curled in a snarl.
Rhys instantly moved in front of me, blocking the man’s view of me.
He turned that snarl on Rhys. “You should’ve sent a messenger. Told me you were coming.”
“There wasn’t time.” Rhys leaned on his staff as if it weren’t a weapon at all. “Is this not my kingdom? Am I not welcome here?”
There was that word again. King. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
“It was your kingdom. But I am the one who has been safeguarding it for the past fifteen years while you played babysitter to the witch.”
Witch? Did he mean Pax?
I glanced at the man I’d thought was my best friend. I wasn’t sure I could qualify him as such now with all the secrets he’d been keeping.
“You know why,” Rhys ground out.
“I don’t,” I muttered.
The man stepped to the side, making eye contact with me again. I instantly regretted my mumblings. He sneered in my direction. “I will never accept you as my Queen.”
“Queen?” I screeched.
Rhys’s fingers tightened around his staff, his knuckles bleaching white. “You will watch your mouth when you talk about her, Ayden. I won’t tolerate anything less than respect.”
He spoke as if the words were painful, as though they cost something to say—and the price was far too high.
The man named Ayden slowly turned toward Rhys. “You want me to respect her, Brother? You want me to worship at the feet of this filth?”
So much information was hitting me. Reveal after reveal. Rhys and Ayden were brothers. And clearly, their people didn’t think very highly of me. But why? Just because I was human?
The moment the word filth was out of Ayden’s mouth, Rhys lunged. It was as if Ayden had already prepared for it, though, because another of those long, wooden sticks appeared in his hand.
I’d been right about the martial arts piece because they began a violent dance. The staffs connected in brutal blows, one after the other.
Rhys’s weapon slammed into Ayden’s, sending him flying backward a handful of steps. “I gave you fair warning. Now, I’ll have to teach you a lesson, Brother.”
The moniker should’ve been full of love and affection, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was nothing but derision and something bordering on hatred.
Ayden recovered quickly, swiping his staff low, trying to take Rhys out at the knees. “You’d betray your own people because your mind was twisted by a witch?”
Rhys leapt over the stick, landing in a crouch before surging forward, his staff striking Ayden in the ribs. “I will never be manipulated by a witch.”
Ayden let out a grunt as he threw his staff up to defend against another blow. “You already are.”
Rhys glided his weapon through the air, aiming low, managing to sweep Ayden’s feet out from under him. “I respect the gods. Even when I do not like their choices.”
I expected Ayden to fall flat, but he deftly flipped into a backward roll, then sprang up in a defensive stance. “You do not know it was them.”
The staffs hit each other in a staccato beat, picking up speed.
Pax moved closer to me, standing in front yet slightly to the side, taking up his own defensive stance.
“What the hell is going on?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low as I attempted to take in more than just the two men fighting.
The twenty-four other men and women eyed each other warily. A few sent me disgusted looks.
“Why do they hate me?” I asked more softly.
“They don’t—” Pax’s words fell off, probably because he knew they would be a lie. “It’s complicated” he went with instead.
“Will you… Can you just take me home? Back through that portal thingy?” I asked hopefully.
Pax glanced over his shoulder and winced. “I’m sorry, Rae. We can’t leave. You need to be here.”
I highly doubted that. This place seemed like a supreme risk to my health.
Ayden managed to land a vicious blow to Rhys’s shoulder. “You’ve weakened, Brother.”
“That’s what I want you to think.” Rhys surged forward, leveling a kick to Ayden’s gut and following it with a staff strike that Ayden barely managed to block.
Their battle picked up speed and intensity. If it hadn’t been so violent, it would’ve been beautiful. The cadence of the blows was almost like music, and the blur of their forms was like modern art.
Ayden lunged, and my breath caught, thinking it might be over. But it was simply Rhys’s opening. He slid low, swiping Ayden’s legs out from under him again. The man fell with brutal force this time, helped by the arm Rhys forced against his throat.
A moment later, Rhys had a blade at his brother’s neck. “Yield.”
Ayden’s hazel eyes flashed with gold fire as he gritted his teeth.
The blade pricked tender flesh ever so slightly, spilling a single drop of blood. “Yield,” Rhys demanded.
A wave of nausea passed through me at the sight of that blood.
Ayden blew out a harsh breath. “I yield.”
Rhys held him there for a moment longer as if to be sure of his brother’s word, then leapt to his feet in one swift move, sheathing his blade and offering his brother a hand.
Ayden slapped it hard, then Rhys pulled him to his feet and into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you. Even though you’re an ass.”
A chuckle slid from Ayden’s mouth unbidden. “I haven’t missed you a bit.”
“Figured,” Rhys muttered as he released him.
Ayden eyed me warily and then returned his focus to Rhys. “This isn’t a road you want to go down.”
Rhys opened his mouth to say something, but a deep, ominous, hornlike sound pierced the air.
Ayden stiffened. “They must have sensed her.”