Chapter 16 #2
“One spoke to me,” Isabelle speaks up. Everyone in the room tenses and turns to her. To Isabelle’s credit, she doesn’t wither under their gaze. “We have an imprisoned Nephilim. It spoke to me and showed me things no one else could see.”
“What did it show you?” Allarick leans forward, hanging on to her every word.
As Isabelle looks at me, smug satisfaction grows inside me.
My queen looks to me when she’s unsure, though I doubt she realizes she’s doing it.
She doesn’t need my permission to speak, but I nod anyway.
“It said war is coming. That all of this death is for him, but it didn’t show me who him referred to. It might have, but—”
“It was manipulating Isabelle to walk closer. I pulled her back, and it cut off their link,” I finish for her.
Isabelle was not happy with me at the time.
I couldn’t—and still can’t—bring myself to feel remorse for what I did.
The Nephilim would have surely killed her the moment it got its hands on her.
“Despite that, I assure you it was quite safe.” Probably, that is.
“And is this the part where you ask us to willingly allow our wives to meet your captive Nephilim on the chance they could speak with it?” Rip’s eyes flicker to black, his anger barely concealed.
“Precisely,” I say. “If they can communicate and see in the minds of these creatures, we can learn their secrets. I don’t need to tell you there’s power in secrets.”
“No,” Rip says immediately. His answer isn’t shocking, but it’s still disappointing. “I won’t allow Hettie to be put in danger. My stubborn wife would do so without any thought for her own safety. If there’s a chance she could get hurt, I’m not willing to risk her.”
“I don’t like making decisions without my wife,” Allarick says slowly. I brace myself for his rejection too. “However, Erin’s safety is my top concern. She finally feels safe, and I don’t want to put her in a place where she has to worry about her life.”
“Did you say Erin? As in Erin Goodwin?” Isabelle speaks before I can respond. She uncrosses her legs and moves to the edge of the seat.
Allarick eyes her curiously before slowly, almost reluctantly, nodding. “Erin Goodwin is my wife.”
“I need to speak with her.”
“I just said I don’t want her involved with the Nephilim—”
Isabelle waves off his concern. “I’m not talking about the Nephilim. I need to speak with her. It’s very important.”
“What is it you need to discuss with her?” the man behind Allarick asks. Delmare is his name, if I remember correctly.
“It’s none of your business,” she snaps.
Delmare hardens. “You’ll learn Erin Goodwin is a beloved queen in our kingdom. None of us wish harm to fall upon her.”
“If your protection means hiding her away, that’s not protection at all. That’s a prison, no matter how beautifully crafted,” Isabelle seethes. In her anger, she reaches out to me, her hand on my knee. It’s an interesting development, but one I find oddly comforting.
Delmare is taken aback by her words. “That’s not—”
“My wife has a point,” I interrupt. “Isolation isn’t protection.”
Neither Rip nor Allarick looks happy with me. In fact, they both look as if they would like to gut me where I sit. I’d like to see them try.
“You must understand, Queen Isabelle, my wife hasn’t had the easiest of lives,” Allarick said.
“You think I don’t know that? I knew her before she came to Mescos. I’m quite familiar with what type of life she lived.”
“So, you’re her friend?” Allarick asks suspiciously.
Isabelle’s hand on my knee tightens momentarily.
I sense her change in demeanor and bring my shadows closer to strengthen her.
After a moment, she shakes her head. “Not really. I don’t think she knows who I am.
But I know her. And I really need to speak with her.
Could you at least ask her? It’s very important. ”
The Kraken king takes his sweet time before answering. At last, he lets out a sigh. “I will speak with her.”
Isabelle visibly relaxes next to me. “Thank you.”
“But I don’t change my position on her speaking with the Nephilim.”
“Hettie won’t speak with the creature either,” Rip adds and then stands. “If that is all we need to discuss, Thorne and I will take our leave.” Thorne nods, offering Isabelle a polite bow.
Allarick is next to stand. “I apologize we can’t do more.”
“You could,” I say, voice cold. “What you mean to say is that you’re sorry you aren’t willing to do what needs to be done to win this war. My wife will take credit for that.”
Allarick doesn’t respond to my jest. I almost wish he would. Anger simmers low, but it’s been a long time since I’ve let off so much power, and I’m itching to do just that.
Instead, the Kraken king addresses Isabelle. “I will speak to Erin and send word with her answer.”
Isabelle nods once but otherwise doesn’t respond. Allarick’s tight-lipped smile fades as he gestures for Delmare to follow him out. I expected this meeting to be a difficult one, but did not anticipate an all-out refusal.
Despite my disappointment, a part of me can’t fault Rip or Allarick for not wishing to risk their wives.
Isabelle is capable of speaking to the Nephilim, but I had hoped she wouldn’t have to do it alone—or at all, if I’m honest. However, it seems like we have no other choice.
Isabelle will have to speak with the Nephilim again and soon.
I just fucking hate the idea.