Chapter 34 #2
There was definitely a twinkle in my eye. My soul felt more elated than it had in months. The feelings may have been enhanced by the waning alcohol or delicious pancakes, but it was real, nonetheless.
I was wrapped in something far stronger than protection—love and support. A whole blanket of it. The twist I never saw coming.
“I can’t wait to hear all the stories about young, wild Wyatt.” I chuckled, clearing away the remnants of my tears with a palm. “Thank you. Both of you.”
David rolled his eyes, but a reluctant, admiring smile was painted on his lips. He exhaled, as if expelling the stress of the night.
“Anything else we should know about tonight?” he asked in a more open than accusing way.
Hoping to stall my answer, I darted my eyes to the counter where Honey was sprawled out, fast asleep. One tiny leg dangled off the edge. A glistening thread of syrup drooled from the corner of his gaping mouth. He hadn’t even bothered to swallow before conking out.
“Uh . . .” I wrinkled my nose, looking up thoughtfully.
Oh god. A flush immediately crept into my cheeks.
Yeah. I was definitely not about to bring up the Liplock fiasco, or Finley’s spell-breaking theory.
I began to shake my head, ready to dodge the question entirely, but the voices from the bar floated back to me, a heavy cold creeping into my heart.
His people were brutally killed in the collapse—while the other half now live in struggle . . .
My back straightened. I bit my lip, hesitating. “I need to ask you something.”
David lifted an eyebrow, posture alert.
“Okay,” he said, patiently.
A rough snore echoed through the room as Honey’s head lulled backward, his whole body now limp in Wyatt’s arms. The Cherub could’ve easily passed for dead.
Arms flopped uselessly with every step he took.
Wyatt muttered something under his breath as he carried him off, presumably to find a bed. Or maybe just a closet to toss him in.
“I overheard something at the club.” My fingers thoughtlessly drifted across the cool surface, scratching at an invisible spot. “Talk about you. About Loveland.”
David’s face shifted, only slightly, but enough that shadows crept under his eyes.
“They said that after the collapse, you ditched Loveland, leaving your people behind. Ran off to raise me instead.” The words tasted bitter. Not because of blame—but from the shame I felt for even wondering.
Wyatt returned. He leaned over the counter, elbows planted and head bowed. A long, steady breath blew past his mouth.
David’s lips pressed into a thin line.
There was a sad darkness growing within him. Was it guilt? Regret? Both?
“Is—is it true?” I asked, abashed. “Did you leave them?”
The air thickened between us.
His eyes fixed out the kitchen window, studying the purple hyacinths in the window box, softly blanketed in moonlight.
“No,” David said, the words expelled as if they’d been caged for too long. “But it’s better they believe I did.”
I had no doubt my face betrayed me, showing every ounce of my confusion.
Turning, I looked at Wyatt, but his gaze was glued to the floor with a heartbreaking expression.
“The collapse . . .” David’s voice dropped, growing icy and sharp. “There’s more to it than I’ve told you.” He looked at me with guilt buried beneath his brows.
“They called it a natural disaster. But there was nothing natural about it.” He paused.
“Mount Lovelorn was extinct—it wouldn’t have erupted on its own.
I saw our Candela flicker that day. Just once.
It had never faltered before. That’s how I knew.
I just knew the Skell King was behind it.
The weapons your mother warned us about .
. .” His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but certainty.
“Some way, somehow—he did it. Your mother, then Loveland—that was no coincidence.”
A breath was stolen from my lungs. He should have told me sooner.
“Why would he—?” I stopped mid-sentence, shock absorbing my core.
“My father loathed the Skell King,” David continued. “Said he was too power-hungry, too reckless. After we banned all trade with Hallow Land, the King went eerily quiet. That should have been our first warning. There’s nothing more dangerous than silence.”
He turned to me, eyes serious. “Loveland’s downfall was the perfect distraction to cover up the news of their beloved Hallow Queen’s mysterious death.
She was highly regarded by the common people of Hallow Land—they saw her as one of them.
Rumors spread about a rebel group uprising.
The Skell King couldn’t afford to add more fuel to their hatred of him.
So I imagine he chose to create the perfect diversion instead.
” David’s voice was steady, but his words cut.
“Beyond that, I think Loveland was also a test bed—the first experiment for whatever monstrous weapon he’d created.
I don’t think he expected it to be so successful.
” I swear I saw a faint red aura hum around David’s body, pulsing for a moment with wrath.
“After the attack, we worked to rebuild—in secret. Many died that day, but hearts be blessed, not all. Survivors remain. But hidden, rebuilding, living in secrecy. A rare few live scattered across the realm, but most chose to stay.”
A chill pebbled up my legs.
Here I thought I was the one dropping the bomb of bombs tonight. But no, this—this right here, was the atomic one. This changed everything.
Holy shit. I shook my head, unable to form a response yet.
I didn’t think a new level of cunning cruelness could be unlocked for the Skell King. Yet here we were. The weight of murder, of genocide, of war . . . stabbed my chest.
My hand involuntarily rubbed at my sternum, urging my breath to steady.
“So,” I started. “Everyone else in the realm thinks you ran off?”
His gaze locked on mine, searching for my understanding.
“I’ll gladly take whatever poor reputation they give me,” he said, unwavering. “So long as the target stays off my people. They’ve suffered enough.”
A heavy sorrow grew within me—but a piece of it was laced with pride.
David, the Lord of Loveland, still protected his people.
I’d always known his heart . . . how deep that well ran.
But this—this was loyalty in its purest form.
Not just from a Lord to his people, but from my mother’s best friend, who upheld his promise to her too.
I couldn’t imagine the heaviness of carrying both.
For the first time in my life, I understood the full truth—I wasn’t abandoned. I was chosen.
“Faelad knows,” David said suddenly.
A zap of surprise jolted me.
Faelad? The hermit-like, never-seen, whiskey-sipping Lord of Luckland?
David continued, “Before your mother died, she told me to warn as many rulers as I could. As you know, she believed the Skell King wanted more than just power. He wants domination, realm wide.”
An invisible cold hand slithered down my spine.
“Most accused us of fear mongering. But not Faelad, he believed us.” A small smile tugged the corner of his mouth.
“Though, in fairness, it didn’t hurt he was more than a little taken with your mother.
” He softly chuckled. “My own fault. I tried to play matchmaker with them when we were younger . . . forbidden or not.” The shake of his head was slight.
“But we’ve been working together ever since.
For Faelad, playing the lazy Lord and letting Lochlainn run his circus, lets his spies work unnoticed. ”
I blinked.
Well, I’ll be damned. With the way Lochlainn always looked down his nose at his uncle, I bought the whole useless-figurehead act.
Clever. Very clever.
Something in me eased, knowing the Lord of Luckland was on David’s side. On our side. But another part of me recoiled. A slow and unwelcome needling sensation.
“What about Lochlainn?” I asked, voice tighter than I wanted it to be. “Does Faelad suspect him of—?” I didn’t want to say it, let alone think about Lochlainn betraying his own.
I froze. Half the words were already out, and I couldn’t take them back. But some part of me didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.
“Lochlainn’s reckless, selfish, and a complete twat,” I muttered. “But, stupid? No.” I shook my head.
Lochlainn was always calculating. Like he was watching the board shift beneath our feet and already planning his next move. He wouldn’t be so foolish.
But if I was wrong, and he was working with the Skell King—
No. I slammed the thought away, a vaulted door I wasn’t going to open.
He’d have no reason to. Money—he had plenty. Power—more than enough. What else would be worth selling your soul to the devil, or worth watching the entire world burn for? An idiot, yes. But he was no monster.
David nodded, as if agreeing with the emotions I now radiated.
“Faelad and Lochlainn have had a strained dynamic for years. Something to do with the death of Lochlainn’s parents, ages ago, before you were born.
” He paused, the memory replaying in his mind.
“But when Faelad talks about him, I don’t sense suspicion.
Not really.” His shoulders slumped. “It feels more like hurt when it comes to his nephew.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. A part of me felt deeply sad for them both—for the bond they were cheated out of. Something I understood all too well.
I looked down, thoughts pressing heavier with every second.
“Out with it,” David urged gently. He looked calm, but the creases in his eyes gave him away. “I can feel your emotions brewing.”
“I just—I feel sorry for them,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek. “They’re family.” I shrugged. “It probably would have been easier if they outright hated each other. Instead, they’re both wounded, carrying around whatever painful scars they acquired from each other.”
David’s brows drew together, puzzled.
“Hate and suspicion, those are easy.” I met his eyes. “But hurt? That’s messy. It always comes with blurred lines, complicated answers, and injuries that don’t always heal right.”
A flicker of my inkling stirred, just enough to give me a phantom ache behind my ribs. Or maybe it was the hangover tiptoeing in.
I dragged a hand over my face, trying to wipe the weight of the night away, too distracted to notice Wyatt and David having a silent conversation.
Wyatt stood in the kitchen doorframe, a shoulder leaned against the wood. His steely gaze was locked on David. Behind it, a flash of serious reprimand.
David’s face contorted, eyes quickly snapping back to me. A disheartened frown shadowed above his jaw.
“Ma Cherie,” he said softly. “It’s time to get you to bed.” The warm kiss he planted on my forehead lingered for a heartbeat longer.
I was too tired to fight back. To coax out whatever else troubled his thoughts.
So my legs stood, feeling like lead. A pathetic groan escaped me.
“Get some beauty sleep.” Wyatt flashed me a foreboding grin. “You’re gonna need it. Wyatt bootcamp starts in the morning . . . early.”
Ugh.