Chapter 7 #2
She drew in a gasp and pulled back. Hatred painted in the lines of her face.
Having no reason to feel the same for her, I didn’t understand the intensity.
Having been here on WildLand for so many years, and thinking I would never come to power, must have given her a sense that she would go unchallenged to the head of the council.
That still didn’t begin to account for such raw loathing.
I had considered reaching out to her. After all, she was my half-sister.
But there was no hope of making friends here.
Manus had explained that her foster parents had spoiled her as a child.
Then the inhabitants of the island, who all assumed I was lost, doted on her as she grew into her powers.
Dema became even more spoiled, and those seeking power only boosted her swelling ego.
My return challenged her. Evidently, Dema had never been challenged.
She didn’t like the idea of having to prove her worth.
Well, too bad. I might have been new to the Kith, but even I could see she was dangerous. Dangerous to us all.
Doran turned at the head of the room, and we both made a small bow to signify that the introductions were complete and the feast could begin. All the assembled Kith started milling about and greeting each other. But my sister had other plans for the day.
“Doran, High Priestess of the Winds.” Dema’s voice rose above the chatting of the crowd. “I call for the first Battle of Birthright now!” Gasps came from all over the room. I watched my sister’s expression carefully.
“Feldema!” Doran exclaimed. Her brows were drawn, and a harshness that I’d never heard before colored her voice. “This is a banquet, not a council meet.”
“I have the right, and I demand the fight this day!” Feldema was absolutely seething. “I call for it now, and you have no choice but to grant my challenge.”
Doran looked to Bevin for assistance. When I had feared things would go badly today, this was the last thing I had imagined.
Doran’s obvious lack of confidence in me hurt.
I didn’t want to fight today, but there was no way I was going to let Doran think I wasn’t ready.
I stepped up next to my wicked half-sister.
“I accept.”
More gasps from the crowd. I looked to Manus, and he came to my side and stood, legs spread slightly and arms crossing his chest. If little sis wanted to play today, we were ready. I might not be able to take her with magic yet, but I could take her in a fair fight.
I glanced at the tacky Vampire at her side and hoped the fight would be fair.
“Keena, you do not need to battle. This is your introduction and—” Doran began.
“I will not dishonor you or the council by not accepting this challenge.” I lowered myself to one knee and bowed my head, my gown billowing out around me.
With that statement, and the respect I was showing the council, I had drawn first blood.
I’d taken the high road, making Dema look like the spiteful child she was.
I felt hatred and disgust emanating from her.
It felt very different from the inviting glow from Doran.
Her magic was cold and empty, but her temper was hot—and that, thankfully, could be used to my advantage.
I raised my head to Doran. Several expressions crossed her face as she slumped into her chair on the dais.
I could see she was impressed by my calm.
“So be it,” she said to me and then raised her voice to the others in the room.
“In one hour’s time. You have made the challenge, Feldema. Choose the location and the weapons.”
“I choose here, in the meet room, to demonstrate for the Kith my superiority. Simple, short blades so I can see her eyes as she cries in pain.” Dema trembled in anger, her voice cracking. The murmurs around us echoed my surprise.
Doran leaned back in her chair and looked to me with a defeated expression. I bowed again and remained on my knees. “I accept the challenge and the boundaries.”
Back in my room, Hogan and Manus diligently gathered my weapons and clothing.
Neither seemed worried. When Manus finally spoke, his voice was calm.
“You won’t have your protective gear on.
You’re accustomed to the feel of the blows, but the cut of a blade is going to be a new sensation. Be prepared for it.”
I nodded my understanding. We’d had this conversation before.
I wasn’t sure if he was repeating his usual instructions for his comfort or my preparation.
Hogan produced my black leather pants and tight leather tank top.
We had planned on a special suit for the battle, but I was glad it was my usual workout garb.
I had two short daggers with six-inch blades, one strapped to each thigh.
A larger dagger was in a sheath at my waist, and a little knife was tucked into my right boot.
Feldema would be armed with an equal number of weapons.
As Hogan braided my hair back out of my face, I started to feel the adrenaline. I couldn’t contemplate Dema’s motives for the abrupt call to battle, but I knew I was going to be fighting for real this time. Real punches, real blood, real injuries and real consequences.
The stability of the supernatural world rested on the shoulders of the High Priestess. Dema’s erratic episodes made it easy to see why most of the Kith wanted me in the position, not her. The woman was unstable and emotionally irrational. I shivered, trying to imagine her as head of the council.
No. She wouldn’t win. This was my birthright, not hers.
“Ready?” Manus asked as he jerked the sheath at my waist one last time. I nodded.