Chapter 6 #4
“It wasn’t about you.” Blaire threw an arm around Sean. “It was about him.”
Kywyn blinked several times, his eyes suspiciously bright, and a strange melancholy settled over Sean, a nostalgia for things he’d never actually experienced.
A life with a father.
If Kywyn had been there, his mother wouldn’t have died.
“Lhynion Sidera didn’t act alone,” Autumn said, drawing the attention away from Kywyn. “During his time, there were four Sovereigns who led our people, each from one of our four noble families. I am the heir of Rhiannon Soléi. Isobel is the heir of Meléan Erdéa.”
Sean took in those names, flashes of laughter and fellowship and love dancing through his head.
You love me, Lhynion?
Forever til the end, Mel.
Cole broke the silence. “So what about the fourth?”
Isobel tensed. “The heir of Galadaine Manae has been missing longer than Sean.”
For reasons unknown, cold tendrils of sadness wrapped around Sean’s ribs at that name. Galadaine Manae. A distant echo of pain reverberated through his chest, unexplainable unless he chose to believe what these people said.
This wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t a dream. These were the answers he’d been seeking.
Crazy fucking answers.
Sean swallowed hard. “So you’re saying that I’m the next in line to be king—”
“Sovereign,” corrected Kywyn. “The only royalty is Queen Falan with the Seelie Court, who governs us all.”
“Sovereign to a half-immortal people.”
He hesitated, his blue eyes clouding, but then he nodded. “There’s more to it than that, but, in essence, yes.”
Right. Throbbing pain bloomed in Sean’s temples. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep.
“Sean,” said Isobel in that sweet, sweet voice.
Sean’s gaze edged to her by degrees, afraid to look at her again. His stomach lurched as soon as their eyes met, both pain and pleasure.
“I know how difficult it may be to understand this.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “But this is the path set before you by the blood that runs in your veins. It’s your destiny.”
Destiny.
Destiny was a stripper’s name, not a tenet by which to govern his life.
He stared, the certainty on her face awakening another measure of doubt. She’d just met him. How could she believe that he would live up to this noble ancestor he supposedly possessed?
His mouth opened, and the only words he could find were “What if I don’t want this?”
Isobel’s head tilted, and the vial at her neck, now a deep crimson, rolled toward the hollow of her throat. She released one bitter laugh. “None of us want this. The unfairness of fate is that you don’t get a choice. But so much rests on you, Sean.”
A pit opened, and everything good seemed to fall into it. His memories of his mother. His relationship with his aunt. His entire life as he knew it.
Aunt Blaire’s small hand crept into his, her fingers gripping tight. “Fate is a peculiar thing, Sean. Lana would never have been able to keep you away forever. You were always meant to be here.”
Sean’s clasped her hand tight, his voice dropping to a whisper. “How can I trust this if she didn’t want it for me?”
“Give yourself time, my love, and a fair bit of sleep.” Her cinnamon eyes met his. “Nothing ever looks quite so dark in the morning.”
He nodded, though he couldn’t imagine any of this would be easier in the light of the sun.
Kywyn stared at his clasped hands before him. “It’s late. Why don’t we retire and resume this discussion with fresh eyes in the morning?”
Sean stared at the top of Kywyn’s head, wondering what he was thinking—this man, who was his father.
The man he’d believed his entire life was dead.
The man who’d wanted to search for him but had been thwarted by some abstract Council.
Cobalt eyes lifted and latched onto Sean, full of hope, though Kywyn’s expression remained curiously blank. “Is that agreeable to you, son?”
Son.
He hadn’t been someone’s son in years. Throat dry, Sean nodded.
“These are my quarters,” Kywyn said, indicating the luxurious suite of rooms in which they resided. “They have belonged to our family for centuries. You are welcome to remain here, though you also have a room in the Sovereign Suite where Bel and Autumn stay.”
“Or you can come with me and Cole,” Blaire said. “You are always welcome in our quarters.”
Cole balked. “We have quarters?”
Aunt Blaire’s mouth stretched into a thin smile. “Yes. Welcome home, my son.”
Cole’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“You always called me a witch, but I’m really just a healer.” She shrugged, then added a small “Just like you.”
Cole blanched. “Oh my god.”
Clapping a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, Sean looked at each of them in turn, but his attention locked on Isobel, something deep in his heart aching with want.
Despite all the fear and reservations, as well as the ironclad knowledge that this feeling wasn’t normal or natural, he would still go wherever she went.
Those full, beguiling lips turned up in a half smile like she knew his thoughts. She stood and held a hand out. “Come with me. I’ll show you your room.”