Lexa
The pack house of the Glade is remarkably similar to the ones in Silverhide and Endova. It’s a single wide, airy room with multiple entrances to the outside world but no windows. Long tables stretch in its center, but smaller tables and wobbly stools meant for moving around are scattered throughout the space. There’s a kitchen in the back–crude, however, with not much more than a few work tables and a wood-fired stove for cooking. But it’s the storeroom off the kitchen that takes my breath away, and not for the reason it should have.
It’s nearly empty. Bags of flour, oats, and rice are depleted to near critical levels–barely enough to feed a single family. Dried, smoked meat hangs from hooks on the ceiling, scrapped down to the bone. I step out of the way as another set of fae–servants, I believe–step past me carrying bags of what smells like grain. They keep stacking and stacking but barely make a dent in what’s needed, and some of the ice guarding my heart melts at the sight of a barrel full of apples being wheeled in.
But I turn when Kaleb speaks in quiet tones to another fae man in more regal clothing–dark blue robes with golden thread laced throughout and crystal buttons on his lapel. Kaleb rolls his neck before looking down at the ledger in the man’s hands, but then another group of fae walk into the storeroom, and I freeze, my stomach leaping into my throat.
My gasp is, unfortunately, audible. Kaleb’s eyes lift to my face, but I’m staring at the two men–I think–wheeling another barrel of something past the entrance of the storeroom and into the kitchen proper.
“It’s milk,” the regal fae man says to Kaleb with a soft shrug. “For butter–”
“Come here,” Kaleb says sternly, his words directed at me.
I’m frozen in place as the two strange beings walk past the entrance of the storeroom again and back out of sight.
“Lexa, come here,” Kaleb repeats in a tone that would have cut through me like a knife had I not been fighting for my life not to faint or scream.
I move toward the entrance of the storeroom–where I’ve been tasked with cleaning the shelves in preparation for new supplies. I scrunch the rag in my fist until water starts to bead against my skin as I step through the doorway and glance through the door leading out of the kitchen and into a smoke scented night, where several fae are unloading barrels and bags, organizing them before bringing them inside.
The dark blond fae male smiles softly down at me when I edge toward Kaleb’s side. He looks familiar, and I realize with a start that this is the man who sponsored Chessie–the one with the kind voice and even kinder words when she’d been chosen and taken. Silas.
Kaleb glances at the man before looking down at me with a rough sigh. “Are you going to manage, or do you need a moment to catch your breath?”
I break my gaze with the blond fae sponsor–wealthy, from what I can tell–and glance toward the door again. “What are they?”
“Are you going to introduce me formally or should I–”
“This is Silas,” Kaleb says shortly but gives the man a nudge, forcing him back a step, putting a foot of distance between our group.
Silas rolls his eyes–blue, like the ocean–at Kaleb. “Why are you always like this? It’s not like I bite.” He gives me another boyish smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Unless you like that, of course.”
Kaleb shoves Silas hard, and the man stumbles back, his wings suddenly flaring from his back in a simmer of velvet blue the same color as his eyes.
I rear back, another involuntary gasp ripping through my teeth as my back hits the doorframe of the storeroom, and every fae servant currently organizing food on the cart outside turns to us, squinting through the glare of the light pouring through the kitchen door, illuminating the darkness beyond.
Silas’s wings ripple as he tucks them back along his back and frowns at Kaleb. “That was unnecessary.”
“Leave,” Kaleb growls, but Silas looks at me instead, sizing me up, drinking me in.
“Did he tell you I’m Chessie’s sponsor? She’s fine, I assure you. A little wound up and confused, but I gather all three of you are feeling that way. You more than the rest, given that you’re stuck with him.” He jabs a thumb in Kaleb’s direction. “He’s not all bad, you know. Just a little grumpy. He doesn’t eat enough, I’m afraid.”
Another low, wolfish growl leaves Kaleb’s throat, but I stare at Silas and Kaleb for several seconds, furrowing my brow as sudden glaring similarities glimmer to the surface. Their mouths are the same–the same expressions twitch at the corners of their lips. The high, chiseled cheekbones and strong, expressive brows…
I glance at Kaleb, who looks into my eyes like he’s desperately trying to tell me something, but then, the two men come back into the kitchen, ignoring us as they move to the storeroom.
I can’t ignore them, though. One has scaly gray skin that shines with an oily sheen. His eyes are far too large for his face and totally black, but a honeycomb of muted color lies within, like a fly. Spindly wings a quarter of the size of Silas’s flicker as he helps his companion carry in two more heavy bags of grain. The other is similar, with strange, almost webbed skin in a color I’ve never seen outside of a forest before. Both have grayish skin, but this second… thing is larger than the first, and he only has one wing. Just one.
Neither of the men–the beings–look at me, but when I turn back to Silas and Kaleb, who are wearing similar expressions, but Silas is the first to crack.
“You didn’t tell her?”
Kaleb widens his stance, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The men wait for the servants to leave again, but the second Silas reaches for me to turn me back to the conversation, Kaleb acts.
He shoves Silas back again and grabs my wrist, tugging me through the kitchen and into the pack house proper, which is empty save for us. The doors to the city are open, however, and it’s silent. A red-orange glow lights the night sky. My stomach twists at the scent of smoke filling the air.
Kaleb finally lets me go and turns to me and Silas, his eyes flicking to the fae man before glowering down at me like I’m nothing more than a splinter in his heel, and I glower back. Silas looks between us with a smirk before leaning his thigh against one of the tables.
“They’re dozens of kinds of fae,” Silas explains, pausing to allow Kaleb to cut in, but he continues after a moment, “High fae, like me. The pretty ones.” He tosses me a charming smile and then continues, “and the others. Water fae are especially prevalent here in Pantharas–”
“Because your kings enslaved them,” Kaleb cuts in, and Silas frowns.
“Yes, well, it doesn’t negate the fact that the selkies and undines make up a large population here. Not in the Glade, but regardless. She needs to get used to seeing them.” He turns to direct his words at me. “Anything that doesn’t look like us,” he explains, pointing to me and Kaleb, then to himself, “are called lesser fae.”
“Why lesser?”
“Because…well…” Silas stumbles over his thoughts.
Kaleb shakes his head as he braces his hands flat on the table. “Because anyone not full-blooded high fae is considered lesser, less important, and disposable.”
“Are–are shifters considered fae?”
Kaleb and Silas pause then look at each other. An identical laugh escapes them, and it catches me off guard. More so, seeing Kaleb laugh. It’s entirely unnerving in a way I didn’t expect. He’s incredibly, overwhelmingly handsome when he smiles, even if it’s at my expense.
I scowl to hide my blush.
“No, you’re not fae,” Silas answers.
“But he is,” I say, my tone more accusatory than I intended.
Kaleb looks at me through his dark, thick lashes. I feel another jolt of awareness–of the fact he’s looking right at me. Another pang of guilt and confusion works through my body like a heated blade when Austin’s memory curls through my subconscious.
It hadn’t… hurt in the way I expected when he died. Not like it would have hurt if we’d actually been mates.
Which only makes me feel worse.
“She’s tired, Silas. We’ll continue this conversation at some other time.”
“Well, it is the middle of the night,” Silas says with marked annoyance.
“You didn’t have to stay while your men unloaded their goods.”
“You haven’t even thanked me for it, you know.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Well, I’ll consider those words next time I feel like being generous.”
Kaleb smirks at Silas, and Silas smirks back, and then I see it. I realize it.
“You’re brothers.”
Both men slowly turn to look at me like they’ve forgotten I’m here. Silas purses his lips, glancing at Kaleb and deciding, for once, to allow Kaleb to speak first.
“We share a mother,” Kaleb says, and Silas just nods like this isn’t a damning revelation.
I think of Alice, a woman I’ve never met, while trying to meld the lines of relation between what sounds like a complicated family. I turn to Silas, speechless, hoping he’s going to give me some insight, but he just backs away from the table, his body angled to leave the pack house all together. “I’m the older, wiser, and more handsome one, but yes. Unfortunately, we share some blood.”
Kaleb shakes his head, but I can tell he’s feeling lighter. That steely, hateful expression he’s been wearing since the moment we met only this morning fades into… just him. Who he is.
Someone calls out for him in the kitchen, and he leaves without so much as casting a glance back in my direction, which makes me believe he trusts Silas to be alone with me, even if I find it impossible to trust either of them.
“Chessie told me about the battle,” Silas says quietly. “On the beach, where your regiment was stationed.”
“I’m not going to divulge any details.”
“She also mentioned you’re secretive.”
I purse my lips. He smiles as if in confirmation.
“She is fine, you know. She’s comfortable.”
“She’s not meant to be in games like this.”
“I am aware.”
“Then why choose her as your champion, or victor, whatever you call it? Chessie is a trained warrior, yes, but she’s… she’s always been softer than the rest of us. She won’t win.”
“She’ll be with you.”
“Kaleb doesn’t think I have a shot either. He made it clear I can’t even escape this place.”
He’s quiet for a moment. He looks around the shabby pack house with a soft sigh. “Kaleb was adamant I take Chessie, so I did. He chose you, and you can’t take that lightly. I chose Chessie to keep her safe and out of the hands of the other sponsors. He chose you because he is the best trainer in our lands. You can, and will, win these games.”
“And then what? I get whatever I want? What good is that to me if I can never return home?”
“There are other powers at play.”
I glance at the kitchen, but Kaleb is out of sight. “What do you mean?”
“Give Kaleb a chance. He’s not as bad as he seems. He’s just… he’s been dealt an impossible hand.”
“Alice?”
Silas pales. “Where did you hear that name?”
Kaleb walks back into the room, and Silas leans away from me, looking grave. He clears his throat, saying in passing, “I’ll see you both in a few days, whenever the king calls for a training demonstration, which I believe will be soon.”
“And Meg? Is she safe? Is she all right?” I call out, but Silas stops beside Kaleb, the two of them sharing a singular look that makes me believe Meg is safe but not necessarily in the best hands.