Soren
A grand stone staircase funnels to the highest reaches of the cathedral-style foyer where the stained glass windows stretch to the highest rafters. This place is ancient. From the dawn of fucking time, I think. Shadows hug narrow passages leading off the foyer, but Blake knows exactly where to go, I guess, because he grabs my arms and tugs me to the left. I balk, ripping my arm out of his grasp.
“Don’t touch me again,” I huff, smoothing the fabric of the rather fancy button down shirt I’ve been wearing most of the day. Jane brought me clothes and quickly disappeared again shortly after I left Blake’s office this morning to check on Maeve. Patton, too, has been missing all day, but judging by Jane’s slightly disheveled appearance, she’d been enjoying Patton’s skill set for hours at that point, I wasn’t going to interrupt them with questions… yet.
Now, I might not have the opportunity to see my closest, and admittedly only, friend find true happiness in the form of a mate because this is where I’ll die, my blood painting the hallways, and my body in shambles at the feet of my mate’s father.
“Tidy up,” Blake hisses under his breath, glancing through one of the shadowed archways before turning to me and motioning to my halfway unbuttoned shirt and ruffled hair.
“I’m fine as is. It’s not like I’m going to walk away from this looking any better than I do now. What’s your game here, Blake? Throw me into the fucking fire while my mate goes into labor hundreds of miles away?”
“To be honest, I’m shocked you’re even upright,” he whisper-hisses as a rush of air funnels through every hallway then bursts around us, rattling the smoky quartz chandelier high above our heads. “Jumping normally makes the less powerful members of my family quite ill.”
A chill snakes up my spine when the draft–at least, that’s what I thought it was–curls around my feet and scurries up my body like a thousand mice. I want to jump out of my skin at the sensation, and I practically do, leaping out of the cool embrace and taking several steps away from Blake. “What the fuck was that?”
“Just the house. It likes you, apparently.” He rolls his eyes and motions to the hallway to the left.
“The what?”
“The house. It’s some entity that lives here. Don’t worry about it. If it meant you harm, you’d know.”
I gape after him as he starts moving to the shadows then warily look around. “You mean like a ghost?”
“Get over here,” he snarls from the archway.
I do. I don’t stick around in the grand foyer, but as Blake leads me down a narrow corridor, the sconces on the walls light on their own accord, swirling with magic that shines a deep, rich amber. My stomach tightens as a feeling of dread whispers through my body. I can feel someone–something–following me. Right behind me. Yet, when I look over my shoulder, there’s no one there.
Whatever it is, it’s just curious.
I hope.
Blake turns a sharp corner and ascends a set of stone stairs. I follow, sticking close, and within moments, the stairwell opens to another hallway, this one wider and warmer, its walls and furnishings more modern compared to the lower sanctum of the castle.
Blake turns into a room where the door is already wide open, and I step inside behind him without hesitation.
I know this place. I’ve looked upon this castle many times over the years. It’s stunning. A work of art, although a quarter of the size of the golden palace in Moonrise. I know who lives here and who I’m about to face.
I also know Maeve… lied to her family for a long time about the baby, and they don’t know my name to this day.
That’s about to change.
“Blake,” a lovely, middle-aged woman with the same thick, dark brown hair as my mate says in surprise from a couch in the center of the room. She rises excitedly, her silver eyes wide with delight, but then they turn to me, and her mouth ticks into a shy, surprised smile. “Oh. Hello. You brought a… a friend?”
It strikes me at the moment, judging by the look on her face, that she’s not used to seeing Blake in the company of others, let alone a friend.
I bite back a smirk that Blake catches with a side-eyed glance in my direction, but I know he’s about to get me back for it a hundred times over.
The screech of a chair steals my attention to the far corner of the room where a man is standing, green eyes locked on mine. My entire body reacts to a familiar face staring me down with such intensity I feel it in my bones.
The Royal Commander, the head of the Ghost army, looks me up and down with an expression so sharp it could cut glass, but his mate, Kenna, Maeve’s mother, is oblivious.
“What are you doing here?” she asks Blake, gliding toward where we’re standing near the entrance of the room, which is a cozy, dimly lit sitting room with couches, bookshelves, a desk and a large fireplace.
“Where have you been?” Commander Evander snarls from his position in the corner, which startles his mate so badly she jumps, rushing out a breath, her hand flying over her heart.
“Evander!” she scoffs, but he’s moving in my direction, and I brace myself for impact.
“You–” he says, pointing a finger at me. “Where have you been?”
Blake glances at me before taking a step back into the shadow of the archway. I’m honestly at a loss as to what to do or say. I met this man once a decade ago. I was a kid. There’s no way he recognizes me.
I take a step back and bow deeply to both of them. “Alpha Kenna, Commander Evander, my name is–”
“Soren Sinclair,” the commander cuts sharply.
I wince. It’s been… years since I heard my last name–my father’s last name–spoken out loud. I’d nearly forgotten it for good reason.
But Kenna steps in front of him, her eyes wide and worried as she looks from me to Blake, “What’s wrong? Is it Maeve? Is the baby coming? Is that why you’re here? And who are you? Evander, how do you know him?”
“No,” Blake tries to cut in, but I shake my head.
“Yes,” I breathe, a sudden sense of purpose taking over, forcing me to ignore the way the commander is boring holes with his gaze through my profile as I turn to Maeve’s mother. My voice softens, giving a hint of my real emotions–fear, uncertainty, my utter lack of skill and knowledge when it comes to this type of thing–when I say, “She’s hurting quite a bit. She won’t admit it, but I think she knows it’s time. I felt the shift earlier this morning. The baby is coming soon.”
Kenna and Evander stare at me in sucking silence, like a vacuum of sound has just descended on the room.
I just gave myself away as her mate, didn’t I? Only I would feel that shift, that change in her body, the soul interlocked with mine.
Blake lets out his breath with a sigh, and on that final second of exhalation, the tension snaps.
“Oh, my Goddess,” Kenna breathes, her eyes going wide. “Are you–are you him?”
Him. Of course. She wouldn’t have spoken my name. Her excuse was likely to keep me safe, wasn’t it? Forcing herself into silence and burying my memory. I feel worse than ever when I nod, which is all I can muster, and I’m prepared and also not surprised when Evander grabs me by the back of the neck and drags me out of the room into the hallway against his mate’s sharp, echoing protests.
Blake follows, finally looking somewhat alarmed when Evander backs me against a wall, his hand curled around my throat. “Evander, this is not the time,” he tries to say, but Evander tightens his grip, his eyes searching mine.
That’s how he recognizes me, isn’t it? My strange combination of contrasting colors.
“Where did you go when you left training camp?”
“The Roguelands,” I croak, holding his gaze despite the bruises he’s leaving on my skin. “I didn’t…” I suck in a breath, barely enough, and continue, “It wasn’t my decision.”
“Your shithead brother had something to do with it, I assume?”
“He’s dead. It doesn’t matter.”
“Evander, let him go!” Alpha Kenna shrieks from the archway. I feel another presence nearby. Something dark, cold, and watching the scene play from the shadows. I assume it’s the ghost Blake mentioned, but I’m proved wrong, my blood running cold, when the Alpha squeaks, “Dad, stop him!”
Dad. Fuck my life. One glance to the right confirms my worst nightmares. The Shadow King of the Roguelands steps into view, his silver eyes scanning his fretful daughter before narrowing on me and Evander.
He looks like Maeve. Their chiseled, sharp features are the same. The same mouth and teeth. The same nose. She’s his feminine image.
I close my eyes against the black spots starting to sprout to life along the edges of my vision.
“Evander, that’s enough,” Ryatt says darkly, but Evander doesn’t let go.
“It’s fine. I deserve it,” I manage to gasp, not bothering to fight.
He knocks me against the wall, still gripping me by the throat. “Where have you been? You were our best–our finest trainee–”
“I got wrapped up with Hannibal,” I say, and the hallway goes silent.
Blake lets out his breath as Evander lets go and steps away. Maeve’s parents and her grandfather look at me as I take several shallow, choking breaths, my eyes watering, then settle myself enough to breathe normally.
“Hannibal?” Ryatt’s voice is smooth and monotone. I don’t dare look him in the eyes.
“One of his den leaders, the Viper, was my boss.” I glance at Blake, wondering how much of the truth he’s going to tell them, but he remains silent, letting me drown without even thinking to throw me a life vest.
To my surprise, Evander says to Ryatt, “We were aware of what happened to him up until seven years ago or so. We knew he was working with someone linked to that network, but we lost track of him after that.” Evander turns back into the sitting room.
He knew where I was?
He cared enough to… keep tabs on me?
I blink, looking at Blake, but he’s just as confused. He turns after Evander, following him out of sight, but Ryatt and Kenna remain nearby.
I look at Kenna, shaking my head. “Look, there’s not a lot of time to explain, but you have to come to Moonrise. You, and… and you,” I look at Ryatt then quickly look away. “We have a situation.”
“The baby?”
“The baby’s fine,” I grind out, finding it hard to speak in general. This is a first for me; meeting a woman’s parents. No relationship has ever gotten even remotely this far. I wouldn’t have let it. “But–Maeve is in danger, and we need everyone there. Everyone with powers–”
“How–how did you even meet my daughter?” Kenna asks, reaching for me. She’s not what I expected. She’s soft, somewhat frantic in nature.
But Ryatt is exactly what I knew he’d be.
“How do you know Blake?” he asks sternly.
“I–fuck, I don’t know how to even begin to answer that–”
“Soren, that’s enough,” Blake says from the archway then turns to Ryatt, Evander within sight in the room behind them. “Soren and I have been working together for the past five years, moving Hannibal’s marks into hiding and killing anyone working with him against the Allied Kingdoms.”
Kenna gasps, whirling, but Ryatt just… stares at him.
“Soren is what the media calls the Blade. He was the Spider’s assassin, but I turned him to our side. We have Hannibal exactly where we need him now. It’s time to act.”
“What have you done, Blake?” Ryatt asks coolly, and even Blake pales at the ice in his tone.
“What only I can do,” he replies sharply. “We don’t have time to discuss this further, not here. Where is Ella? Is she still in Maatua visiting my grandparents?”
“Yes,” Kenna says, swallowing hard.
“Send word that she needs to come to Moonrise.”
“Brie,” I say, and all eyes turn on me. “Maeve will want Brie there, too.”
Kenna’s eyes soften as she nods, but her gaze searches mine, her lower lip trembling. “You’re right. She will.”
Ryatt, dripping with murderous rage, takes two steps toward Blake, laying his hand on his forearm, and they disappear in a gust of black shadows, leaving me with just her parents.
Evander remains in the sitting room, his back to us as he looks out a window at the star filled sky. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder what I’d be thinking if the father of my future daughter’s baby was someone, something, like me.
“Is she all right?” Kenna asks quietly.
“No,” I tell her because it’s the cold, hard truth. “I should have been here ages ago. I didn’t know.”
“She said as much.” Her eyes slip to the ground for a moment then meet mine again. “Your neck is bruised. I can fix it.”
“Don’t bother. It’s less than I deserved.”
Evander turns ever so slightly and looks at me, his face cast in shadow. I can’t decipher his expression. It’s dark and lined with what I can only describe as… guilt. Not for nearly strangling me, though. For something else.
“Are you her mate?” Kenna asks after a moment, her words soft and nervous.
I nod. “Yeah, I am. At least, I feel it. It’s different for her, I think.”
Kenna rushes out a breath and smiles, sniffling slightly. “Yeah, she’s… she’s... oh,” she breathes, teary eyed, turning to Evander. “She must be so happy and relieved–”
But Evander looks grave, his eyes holding on his mate as a silent conversation passes between them. Kenna’s face falls, and as she starts to look back in my direction, I look at Evander and say, “I love her, if that’s any consolation. I’ve loved her from the moment we met, and had I known what she was going through alone, it wouldn’t have gone on this long. This is something I’ll carry for the rest of my life. It shouldn’t have been this way for her, and for that, I’m sorry.”
Evander doesn’t say a word, but he nods, just once.
A gust of black shimmer coats the hallway before Blake, looking slightly pale, and Ryatt, looking furious, reappear. Ryatt grabs my arm, saying to Kenna, “Go to Emberfyll immediately and get Brie and Kieran. Logan stays behind to be ready with the Ghosts stationed there.”
“Ready for what?” Kenna cries out, but Ryatt sends me into a free fall of noise and darkness once again.