Chapter 3
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
Dean dodged another near-fatal blow from General Craven. The man’s attacks had grown more vicious lately, as though he bore a personal vendetta. The whoosh of steel skimmed his ear, the air itself splitting as if it wanted to cut him open.
He stumbled back but quickly righted himself just as the general swung the butt of his sword down toward Dean’s head. Air whooshed past his arm as a massive serpent struck from behind, coiling a thick, bluish-black scaled body around the general and squeezing until the man gasped for breath.
Dean stared slack-jawed, jolting when a foreign thought pierced his mind. “Would you like me to kill him?”
The thought slithered into Dean’s mind like venom—half tempting, half terrifying.
It wasn’t exactly a voice, more a knowing of what the serpent meant to say.
His familiar had finally arrived. When a royal-born heir turned fifteen, the gods bonded them to an animal familiar, along with searing a tattoo of the animal into their chest. Dean had turned fifteen two days ago, and while he’d known his familiar would be some form of snake or serpent, it had been impossible to guess which.
He’d waited anxiously, worried it would be nothing more than a small garden snake.
How wrong he’d been.
‘Yes’ tottered on the tip of his tongue. He should be ashamed for wishing death on the general, but he wasn’t. Dean’s eyes landed on the expectant serpent. He dropped his gaze and shook his head. Killing the general would only incite more wrath from his father. “No.”
The serpent hissed. “Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”
“I’m sure.”
He could’ve sworn the serpent looked disappointed before releasing the man. “Suit yourself.” She slithered toward him, lifting the top part of her body until they were face-to-face. “I’m Cassandra.”
Dean took in her massive form. She had to stretch at least fifteen or twenty feet long. “Dean Hawthorne,” he replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He hadn’t noticed the general charging until that moment. When the man raised his sword, Dean darted around Cassandra. “You dare harm my familiar ?” His voice dropped into a low, dangerous register he’d never used before.
The general pulled up short, a chorus of emotions flitting across his features. “It attacked me.”
Cassandra slithered around Dean and hissed at the general. “He could have killed you.”
“She protected me,” Dean told the furious man. “Your methods go far beyond sparring, and she is duty bound to stop you. You know that as well as I do.”
General Craven sighed and lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. “I am only doing as your father ordered. You know that.”
Dean’s anger rose. Every cut, every bruise was his father’s signature inked into his skin. And still it wasn’t enough. He knew his father ordered it, but his father didn’t stay for the lessons. The general didn’t have to be cruel, yet he was.
“Your father is responsible?” Cassandra asked, outraged.
Dean ignored her.
“She is not allowed in my training arena again,” the general informed him, as if he had a say.
Dean arched a brow with a smirk. He didn’t know where his sudden surge of confidence came from—perhaps because in the last year his skill had sharpened enough that he knew it wouldn’t be long before he could best the general; or maybe because he now had someone on his side who would stop the madness when it went too far.
Either way, a weight lifted from his soul, and it felt good .
Her speed and size aside, familiars couldn’t die until their bonded royal did. To kill her, the general would have to kill Dean. The Royals only had one heir, and as much as Dean’s father seemed to hate him, he needed him alive for the sake of the kingdom.
“I’d watch who you think you can order around,” Dean told the general. “Not even my father can keep her out if she wants in. Familiars answer only to the gods, and they can call every animal in Eden down upon you if they wish.”
The general’s fury grew but Dean didn’t miss the fear that flickered in his eyes. “Leave.”
Dean turned on his heel with a broad smile. “Gladly.”
Dean’s steps echoed through the large marble hallways of the palace, toward his father’s office, Cassandra slithering beside him. His familiar still seethed at the general’s audacity. “I will kill him if he insults me again,” she vowed . “I don’t care what you want. I will not be disrespected.”
“If he’s foolish enough to try again, I won’t stop you.”
They approached the king’s office, and Dean drew a steadying breath.
“There’s something you need to know before you meet my father.
” He quickly explained his father’s treatment of him through the years; how his father demanded perfection and his cruel punishments.
“He’ll do whatever he deems necessary. If he thinks you’re a threat to his regime, he’ll find a way to stop you. ”
Dean had an idea of how to protect her, though he wasn’t sure it would work.
“I’ll kill him, too,” Cassandra replied matter-of-factly. “If he’s a cruel king, Eden is better off without him.”
“He is good to the people,” Dean countered. “They won’t take kindly to his death.”
Cassandra lifted and turned to him. “ Anyone who treats a child the way he treats you is cruel, whether he shows it to others or not . You don’t worry about me. I can protect myself.”
The words sank into him heavier than praise ever had. Someone saw him. Chose him. Defended him.
“Is your bite deadly?” Dean mused.
Cassandra’s forked tongue whipped out, and she opened her mouth, showcasing two crimson fangs elongating before his eyes. “If I want it to be. I can simply paralyze someone or kill them instantly, depending on my mood.”
Dean eyed her fangs. “Good.” He raised his fist and knocked on the large, wooden door accented in gold. His mother’s touch.
“Come in,” his father bellowed. The serpent at Dean’s side brought a satisfied smile to his father’s mouth.
“Ah, I see the gods have given you a fierce companion fitting of a king.” Dean’s father stood and rounded his desk, inspecting Cassandra.
“It’s perfect.” The king’s familiar was a large stag, dangerous in his own right, and Dean’s father often said only strong royals deserved strong familiars .
“Her name is Cassandra,” Dean said. His father opened his mouth to reply, but Dean cut him off. “I will no longer be sparring with General Craven unless I choose to do so. Cassandra attacked him today, and he insulted her in return.”
The king turned slowly to Dean. “You seem to think you have a choice.” He motioned to Cassandra. “This beast will obey me. I am her king.”
Cassandra hissed, her blood-red fangs growing. “The fuck I will.”
The king stepped back. “Control your beast,” he commanded. “I’ll not stand for disobedience.”
Cassandra shot forward and wrapped around his arms and neck, choking him until he turned purple. She opened her jaws and flicked her tongue across his cheek with a bone-deep hiss.
“Father, don’t move,” Dean said quickly. “Her venom kills in an instant.”
The king froze, and an elegant voice drew everyone’s attention across the room.
“You’ll not harm the boy or the serpent,” it said with quiet authority.
Dean’s gaze locked on a woman with white hair, snow white skin, and pale grey eyes, draped in a white flowing dress.
“ Ever . Harm them, and you will die soon after, dooming Eden to fall.”
Dean stared at the woman, entranced. Where did she come from? He couldn’t look away from the otherworldly woman with a tangible aura. The urge to kneel nearly dragged him down, but he forced himself to resist.
“Release him,” the woman commanded softly.
Cassandra obeyed immediately, and Dean’s father dropped to the ground, gasping and choking.
Dean glanced at Cassandra. “Who is she?”
“My name is Lilith.” Dean snapped his gaze to her. “I am a Fallen Fate from the heavens,” she said, answering the question he hadn’t even asked. “I do not reveal myself to heirs until they ascend the throne, but you are an exception.”
Cassandra remained suspiciously quiet. “What is a Fallen Fate?” Dean asked his familiar, still unable to address Lilith, whose power pressed down like a weight.
Cassandra moved toward Lilith and rubbed her face against the woman’s cheek. “She is Fate in the flesh.”
“The Fates dwell in the heavens,” Lilith explained. “But for reasons you needn’t to know, I reside here in Eden to guide the Garden Kingdom royals.” She moved closer. “You are a descendant of the first fae and the protectors of Eden.”
“I… what?” Dean replied, feeling stupid.
“It’s true,” his father said from the floor. “You are too young to understand.”
Lilith’s tone took on a hard edge. “The prince is wiser and more mature than the children his age. Your cruelty has forced my hand.”
“That’s ridiculous,” the king sputtered. “He must be forged into a proper king.”
Lilith’s unsettling gaze turned lethal. “And he will take his own life if you continue. Without his heir, Eden will fall.” His father blanched, as did Dean.
“My mate is dead,” Dean blurted out, the familiar stab of pain igniting in his chest. “My heir will be weaker than any royal in history.”
Lilith came to stand behind him and placed a soothing hand on his arm.
“You will marry and have a daughter strong enough to help the other queens defeat the darkness that will befall Eden. You will know happiness.” It didn’t escape his notice that she didn’t say he’d marry his mate, and for some reason, the confirmation from such a powerful being that Fawn was truly gone gutted him.
Despite his grief over what might have been, a pulse of comfort radiated through him, even if he didn’t believe her. “Okay.”
“Cassandra,” Lilith addressed the familiar . “When the time comes, never let her out of your sight.”
The serpent hissed lightly in return and left the room with Dean at her side.
Dean looked back at the Fallen Fate and couldn’t help but wonder who “her” was.
Fawn draped a blanket over Ivy and patted her side, coaxing her into the barn. The snow fell harder, and she needed to be sure every horse was sheltered and warm. “Good girl,” she murmured, rubbing the horse’s neck.
After checking the stalls, she trudged across the field toward the house to help her grandmother with dinner.
“Are all the horses up?” her grandfather asked once she stepped inside.
Fawn nodded and made her way into the kitchen.
“Thank you, squirt,” he said. Fawn waited for the familiar nickname to stir the tidal wave of emotions she usually had to lock down, but nothing came. Grief, pain, fondness… anything. She’d spent a year pushing it all down until there was nothing left to feel.
Part of her was grateful, while the other part knew it wasn’t normal, but like everything else, she couldn’t find it in her to care. Living in a perpetual state of indifference beats living in pain any day.
Her subtle, inexplicable mood swings continued, but they felt like background noise.
Fawn’s hand twitched, knowing if she didn’t get her soggy dress off soon, she’d panic. The feeling of wet clothes against her skin created a kind of panic she couldn’t control.
Her grandmother’s gaze dropped to Fawn’s clenched fist. “Honey, go change into something dry and warm. I’m almost finished with dinner.”
Fawn thanked her grandmother. When she hit the second floor, her grandfather’s deep voice stopped her. “I’m worried about her, Judith.”
A pot clanged against the counter, followed by a heavy sigh.
“I don’t know how to help her,” her grandmother agreed.
“She barely speaks, and she doesn’t have any friends.
” Fabric rustled, and a chair scraped across the floor.
“What if we lose her too?” Her grandmother’s breath hitched on a quiet sob.
Heavy footsteps sounded and another chair moved. “We won’t let that happen,” her grandfather promised. “We’ll keep trying to get through to her; take her into the village more or something to keep her busy.”
Her grandmother sniffled. “I’ll speak with her teacher, see if he has any suggestions.”
Not wanting to hear more, Fawn tiptoed to her room. She hated that she worried her grandparents. They’d been nothing but kind and loving, and she’d never leave them like they feared.
She didn’t speak much because her parents had been her best friends, and without them, she hadn’t much to say.
Fawn couldn’t give them what they wanted in earnest, but she could fake it. With a new resolve, she dressed quickly and wandered downstairs. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”