Evander
I’d walk off a cliff if there was one nearby.
I’m sure if I ran deep enough into what was once called the Deadlands–the old home of creatures like rogues–I’d find the swift death I’m looking for.
Instead, I’m drunk in an inn somewhere in the Roguelands… but not nearly drunk enough to wash the taste of every word I said to Kenna out of my mouth.
The inn is full of warriors from all three major kingdoms. The Tarsian warriors are notable by their sandy colored leathers and desert sun-tanned skin. It’s interesting to watch them confer with the Rogueland warriors, of course. The alliance between the Tarsian and the Roguelands is precarious, based wholly on how Alpha King Ryatt and Alpha King Jaxon feel about each other at the moment.
Queen Ella split Eastonia in two during the first years of her reign, giving Jaxon full authority of the lands past the river that once walled the Roguelands off from the lost city of Rifthold.
I’ve heard Alpha Jaxon likes to hold the fact Alpha King Ryatt’s wife gave him a piece of the pie over his head.
I snort into my third pint of beer and drink half of it down.
My gaze sweeps over the crowded inn and lands on a gaggle of Crescent Falls warriors. They’re practically blushing with excitement. I’m sure the idea of being allowed in Eastonia–a place that for them must seem like a fantasy–overrides the reason they’re here at all.
War.
I drain the rest of my beer and motion to a passing waitress who rolls her eyes at me until I toss her what remains in a coin bag I keep in my jacket pocket. She wordlessly walks away and will, hopefully, return with something stronger than beer this time.
But a man sits down at the table across from me, and my drink-blurred vision hones in on shockingly familiar eyes now boring into mine.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I groan as I lean back in my chair.
Alpha Sydney crosses his arms over his chest and smirks at me, his blue eyes creasing as he takes me in. “I always thought it’d be fun to get drunk with you one day. I might get my wish tonight, but it seems like you’re leagues ahead of me.”
“I can’t believe your daddy let you out of the dollhouse.”
“My daddy,” he smirks, his tone dropping as he looks over the top of my head at the crowded bar, “needs an emissary in Eastonia while he has troops on the ground in this kingdom, and as his heir, I was the first in line to ensure our warriors are not only taken care of but stay in line.”
“Sounds like a vacation seeing as the Draven Coven hasn’t made any new moves.” The waitress returns with another beer, which I scowl at.
“Whiskeys,” Sydney murmurs, giving her a nod.
“You’re wasting your time on me tonight, Syd. I’m moving on to the next pack by morning.”
“To do what?”
That’s a very good question and one I can’t answer. I’ve never not had a purpose. I’m no longer a Ghost. I should be in Moonrise right now preparing to be the Beta of Veiled Valley.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling at the thought. Kenna thinks she has the authority to decide that. She offered me an out, and I couldn’t take it even if I wanted to. It’s not up to us.
Not unless we tell our families the truth and then reject each other.
“I heard what happened,” Sydney says, sipping from the beer I bought, which I already forgot about.
Momentarily, I think he’s talking about the falling out between me and Kenna. I stretch out my legs under the table and close my eyes. “It’s not worth talking about. It had to be done… for her sake.”
“I’m sure she’s thrilled to know you’re no longer slinking around the allied kingdoms fueling the nightmares of every criminal known to the Alpha Kings.”
I open one eye and find him staring at me over the rim of the pint. He cocks a brow.
“Did you think I was talking about something else?”
I clear my throat and wonder, again, if Sydney is able to read minds.
“I’m to be Beta of Veiled Valley. Commander Artyom dissolved my contract with the Ghosts a few months early. Leaving the Ghosts wasn’t a surprise.”
“Seeing my cousin in action must have been.”
I blink then lean forward and rest my hands on the table.
“Word travels fast,” Sydney says at the same moment the waitress returns with two tall glasses of whiskey. Sydney waits for her to leave before continuing, “Kenna’s powers were felt all over the Roguelands. She’s a force–”
“She doesn’t want to be known for her powers… or what she can do with them.”
Sydney levels me with a look as he picks up his whiskey, swishing it around. “It’s a little late for that.”
I hold his gaze, seething, “Kenna is good, kind, and a talented midwife. She’s not a cruel witch with–with deadly powers.”
“I never said she was,” he cuts in. “But I can see why the Draven Coven wants her in their clutches so badly. Why they want to be rid of her. They don’t stand a chance against my aunt and uncle with Kenna in the way.”
“Kenna won’t be in the way. She’ll be as far from the conflict as she can be.”
“Because you will see to the safety and well-being of your mate?” he asks, and my heart stills.
His smirk reaches his eyes, which crease with something I can’t say is pleasure.
“What makes you think Princess Kenna is my mate?”
“I’ve known since we were kids, Ev.” He laughs, but the look in his eyes remains cold and calculated. “It’s obvious, at least to those willing to look. I can smell it on you, for fuck’s sake.”
“You can’t smell it on me. I’ve–”
“Barely touched her?” Sydney leans forward with a vengeful look passing behind his pale blue eyes. “You kissed her at that ball. Ryan saw you bring her out to the veranda. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“If I hadn't been there, she could have been killed.” Or worse. The memory of Gabriel kneeling in shackles in the temple burns through my mind.
“Why aren’t you in Moonrise with her right now?”
I take my whiskey and drain it. “I’m on a mission.”
“Right,” he scoffs, chuckling. “I asked Kenna about that when I saw her. She acted like the two of you hadn’t just been through hell and back together. Tell me, does she know that she’s your mate?”
“When were you in Moonrise?”
“Two days ago. I spent a few days there with the family.”
And I’ve been roaming the Roguelands for a little over a week looking for any witches who might have looser ties to the Moonrise coven and any dirt on the mystics, but to no avail.
“Does she know?” he asks again, his voice dropping an octave.
“She does.”
“And?”
“And? Why is it your business?”
“Because she is my cousin–practically a sister in all the ways that truly count.”
“I’m not acting on the bond, so you can save your tough, Alpha dickhead act–”
“She’s loved you since she was a child, Evander. What the fuck are you thinking?”
I have the sudden urge to shift and rip the room to shreds.
“You knowme,” I rasp, “and you know her. I am not what she needs.”
“And she’s not what you need.”
I exhale through my nose. He quirks a brow.
“You can’t spend your entire life protecting her. I get it.”
“What exactly do you get?”
“I get that Kenna has never, until recently, used her powers as they were intended. It’s incredible, really, how she’s able to hold all of that inside. I have moments where my own powers feel like they’re going to consume me, and I barely have a handle on them. But for her… that’s world destroying power.”
He’s never mentioned his powers before. I honestly don’t even want to ask.
He meets my eyes. “She will be a target for the rest of her life.”
“I know.”
“She’s why you went into the Ghosts, isn’t she?”
Silence settles between us. He taps his fingers on his empty whiskey glass.
“I can’t protect her if I’m standing by her side as her husband.”
“Because?”
“Because my priorities would shift.”
“How so?” He motions to the waitress again, who passes our table with a huff and waves her wrist in a promise of more drinks.
I grind my teeth. I’m drunk enough at this point that the words tumble out of me before I can stop them. “I would have a home with her. Children… as many as she wants. We’d have a life together, and one day, that could be taken from me. Shecould be taken from me, and I’m not like them. Like the witches or the rebel covens. I’m not like her. I’m a fox. A wolf on good days. She’s… everything. I can’t live with the idea of giving her the life she wants, the life I want, knowing I wouldn’t be able to protect her in the end. My whole focus the past decade of my life has been to be the strongest, the fastest, and the most lethal. But a decade from now? Two?” I shake my head. “I’m better suited to the shadows. I can watch over her there. She can have the life she deserves, and I can continue to make sure she can live in peace and never have to use those powers.”
“But what if she did?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if she actually used her powers and became the witch she’s destined to be? You wouldn’t have to protect her anymore. You wouldn’t need to. You could fucking retire.”
“I don’t want that for her. I’ve never wanted that for her. She wants a quiet, peaceful life, and that is the only thing that’s ever been important to me.”
“Well,” he sighs, rolling his neck, “she might get that after this weekend. But not with you. So, you get your wish, even if I think you’re a fucking idiot for doing things this way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s doing the Rite, or whatever it’s called. She’s the sacred chosen one–”
I’m out of my chair in an instant, and Sydney follows me. His expression changes from the cold, teasing Alpha to something dripping with concern.
“Evander, what–”
“She wasn’t called to perform during the Rite. I was.”
“Then why aren’t you there?”
“Because someone named Vivienne was also called, not Kenna. It was never Kenna.”
“I was just in Moonrise. I heard the news the moment Kenna found out.”
I grab his shoulders, and at least a half dozen Crescent Falls warriors surround us, talons out and blades drawn.
“What do you know about the mystics, Sydney?” I ask, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
“What the fuck is going on, Evander?”
“I think this is a trap.” I let him go and stagger backward, running my fingers through my hair. “I need to go–to go back to Moonrise. Now.”
“I’ll come too.”
“No, you have to stay with your men.” I motion to the confused warriors waiting nearby for Sydney’s command to take me to the ground.
“This is Kenna we’re talking about,” he growls, stepping toward me. “If she’s in danger, you’re going to need me.”
“What the fuck can you do, princeling?” I murmur as whiskey roils through my blood.
Alpha Sydney smirks, his blue eyes glowing with sudden pride, and maybe a hint of excitement.