Chapter 6
KAELERON
Tan’ith nodded and went to the workstation on the left of the room, where jars and bottles had been laid out for him around a pestle and mortar.
His bony fingers plucked pinches of the dried flowers and herbs, and the powdered root and bone, sprinkling them into the heavy stone bowl.
Each cork stopper was replaced with grace, his motions practiced and perfected as he sealed the jars one by one.
He stroked his fingers down the weighty stone pestle in a light caress before taking it up and using it to grind the contents of the bowl as he turned towards Lucas.
The air charged as he passed the other liches, offering the bowl to each one, and each of them added a single drop of liquid from a different coloured vial.
My breaths came quicker with each one, anticipation stirring my shadows, and I was close to growling by the time Tan’ith stopped opposite me.
The urge to snap at him and demand he move faster was strong, near overwhelming.
I curled my fingers into fists to hold back the command, relishing the bite of my claws in my palms as the scent of my own blood joined the acrid tang in the air that grew stronger with each second Tan’ith ground the powders and liquid into a black paste.
The lich set the mortar down on the stone slab near Lucas’s head, carefully removed the pestle and placed it with gentle precision beside the bowl, ensuring it was perfectly straight.
And then he dipped two bony fingers into the mixture.
“Tan’ith to make him speak truth.” His words reverberated in my tired mind, sending a shiver of anticipation over my skin that was almost pleasurable.
Soon.
The wolf would speak soon, revealing all his secrets to me.
I would know the truth.
The charge in the air grew stronger as the three liches behind Tan’ith began to chant in low voices, raising the hairs on my nape as the storm ravaged the world outside the tower.
Tan’ith prised open Lucas’s lips with one hand and sank the fingers of his other into his mouth, spreading the black paste on his tongue.
Violet shimmered across Lucas’s skin.
It was working.
The chanting grew stronger, that charge in the air rippling over my skin now beneath my tunic, and I breathed harder, deeper, gaze locked on the body. Waiting. Waiting.
Hungry for my vengeance.
Lucas lifted from the slab on ribbons of violet and black that chased around him, twining and swirling together one moment and breaking apart the next.
His arms hung below him and then rolled outwards as he began to turn.
The fenryr perked up, watching as I did as Lucas’s feet dropped, so he was standing in the air before me, his arms slack at his sides and his head lowered towards his chest.
Tan’ith muttered something to the others and their chanting grew louder, stronger, each word a thrum of power against my skin.
I glared up at the wolf.
He glared right back at me as his eyes opened to reveal pitch-darkness.
“Fae,” he snarled, fangs sharp.
It appeared Lucas’s soul was going to cause us as much trouble as Braxton’s had.
I motioned to Tan’ith, who nodded and joined the chanting liches, his deeper voice swirling among theirs to thread them together, filling the gaps in their magic until it was an impenetrable net that Lucas could not escape.
“Prick,” I growled right back at him, smirking up at him as he hovered in the air, nothing more than a soul trapped in a shell he would never escape, not if I had my way. My smirk became a wide grin as I canted my head. “Did you enjoy the coin you received for selling your own fated mate?”
Lucas’s lips twisted, as if he were trying his hardest not to answer that question, or perhaps he wanted to throw verbal barbs at me for it. Tan’ith did not look pleased with me for teasing his soul.
“No.” Lucas finally bit that word out with the venom I had expected from him.
“Why did you reject your mate?” A question that had plagued me from the moment Saphira had revealed what he had done to her.
One I wanted an answer to, if only so it would silence that persistent need to know why a male who had been given a mate as wonderful, as beautiful and kind as Saphira would reject her.
“She ruined my life.” Lucas’s voice was monotone now, a sign that Tan’ith’s control over him was holding.
I scoffed at that. “One might say you ruined hers… but perhaps she is better off as my queen.”
Lucas’s black eyes widened a touch at that revelation. How satisfying.
“Did you honestly believe me so low that I would purchase a female for her virginity?” I angled my head the other way, sizing up my prey, mind racing as I played with him, a thousand things I wanted to say to him unfurling within it.
Outside, the storm began to calm.
“Yes.”
I laughed at that. “We are not the same, you and I. You would purchase a female for such reasons, believing yourself entitled to her flesh, and no doubt you would hurt her and take pleasure from it. Would you not?”
“Yes.” His reply came quickly.
I scowled up at him. “Then you are a despicable male and fate was a fool to tie your soul to Saphira’s. You do not deserve her.”
“And you do?” Lucas sneered.
Tan’ith and the liches chanted louder, but I raised my hand, not wanting them to silence this side of the wolf’s soul. I wanted to hear his impotent barking, I wanted him to seethe and sneer, and bite out his pathetic words he truly believed would wound me.
“I deserve her far more than you ever did.” I casually inspected my black claws, the ashy tips of my fingers taking on a violet hue as the ribbons of light that chased around Lucas’s body illuminated them. I lifted my head, pinning Lucas with a dark look. “Why did you reject Saphira Harper?”
This time, Lucas let out what I imagined was supposed to be a scoff, but it was dry and brittle, a mere husk of the disgusted sound the wolf had wanted to throw in my face.
“She ruined my life,” he repeated.
“Yes, I heard that. I want to know how she ruined your precious little life.” I grinned at him, flashing my sharp teeth. “Other than killing you, of course.”
The wolf’s black eyes narrowed.
I had hit a nerve.
Darkness purred within me in response.
“I trained her well, honing her strength and her skill, pushing her to her limit until she could obey the darkness that whispered in her soul, demanding she have her vengeance. She enjoyed it, blossomed so beautifully under my tutelage, such an eager little thing.” I raked my eyes down the wolf’s naked body and shook my head as I chuckled at the sight of him.
Lucas proved he was far too easy to provoke, snarling at me.
“I wanted to kill you,” I continued as if he had not just threatened me, rankling him further. “But, alas, it was her kill to make. She needed it more than me… and she was so very glorious when she put you in your grave.”
I looked him up and down again.
“As much as she apparently ruined your life, as much as you desired to be rid of her, it must have wounded your wolf side to have her be the one to end you. Did it upset your wolf instincts?”
Lucas clamped his teeth together.
I motioned to Tan’ith, who strengthened the chanting, and grinned as Lucas wrestled against the hold and command of the lich.
“Yes,” he blurted, looking as if he might have burst had he tried to hold that solitary word in a moment longer.
I grinned at that.
“I am sure she will be glad to hear that.” I made a small gesture at Tan’ith, who eased the chanting in response, giving Lucas more autonomy. “Now, I will only ask this one more time. How did Saphira Harper ruin your life by being destined for your wretched soul?”
“My parents demanded I be loyal to her.”
I frowned at that admission. “So you were angry that you were expected to be loyal to the female who was your fated mate? Wolves value their mates, and all shifter breeds are exceptionally loyal to those who are fated to them, and yet you found the thought of being loyal to your fated one appalling?”
Hollow little male.
A mate was to be cherished.
Honoured.
Adored.
“I was maturing.” Lucas’s tone remained far too hollow and monotonous to be pleasing.
The lich spell was still too strong.
Tan’ith anticipated my command before I had a chance to issue it, softening the chant to give Lucas the freedom I needed him to have.
“So you wanted to fuck.” I studied him. “You wanted to fuck, and your parents demanded you remained loyal to her, and so you resented her.”
“I resented her,” Lucas echoed.
“Why? Purely because you were expected to be loyal to your fated one?”
“Because I was the son of an alpha!” Lucas bit out.
“Ah,” I murmured as it all made sense. “Because you are an entitled little prick. You believed you deserved to have your pick of the females. You believed your blood gave you the right to do as you please. And you were angry that neither of those things were permitted by your father.”
Lucas did not respond to that, other than glowering at me.
“I am the son of a king. I took that throne as a youth. I became king long before my maturity kicked in… and yet I did not believe I had the right to choose which females I bedded, nor did I believe I could do as I pleased with a female. I have always been more powerful than you, a mere son of an alpha, and yet I did not resort to such behaviour. I did not believe it to be my right.” I paced a few steps towards the fireplace, and then returned to him as something else rose to the tip of my tongue.
“Being of royal blood does not give you the right to treat your people as if they were born to serve you in whatever way you please. It does not give you the right to harm those of your court by forcing them to bend to your will. A good king, or a good alpha, would not treat their people that way.”
He still did not respond.
But he did look rightfully chastised for his behaviour.