Aris
Maddy and Isaac’s home in Maatua is shockingly cozy in comparison to the castles and palaces each side of the family calls home. Myself included, seeing as I still haunt the ancestral, gloomy castle older than the dawn of time itself in Veiled Valley. Here, in Maatua, it’s nothing but wide, open skies and the softest turquoise water, with sand like butter, so light it falls like snow through my fingers while I watch the tide roll in.
A dark-haired, violet eyed little girl kneels a few feet from the tide line, dutifully dusting sand from a massive clam shell Kieran gave her, while my three-year-old nephew is a few yards away, squealing against the gentle waves lapping his toes while he hunts for more shells.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here with them–Skye, Kieran, and Fallon, who’s currently seated in my lap, double chins and chubby cheeks rosy as she watches the bigger kids play. An hour, maybe? Maybe more?
The private beach stretches as far as the eye can see. No one can bother us here. The reporters and paparazzi who stalk my family’s every move are most definitely lying in wait at the gates to the exclusive neighborhood where Maddy and Isaac now live full time, but they can’t enter.
I mean, they could. The only thing stopping them is the promise of Isaac’s wrath and magic.
Imagine them getting a picture of me like this. Innocently holding a baby. While I keep tabs on my nephew and… well, I’m sure Skye will grow up calling me uncle, even though I’m technically a cousin in a removed way. Who knows at this point? There’s so many of us now, and I’m watching the next generation play in the sand while the rest of the adults confer in the quiet solitude of the beach house behind us without me.
Anyway, a picture of me surrounded by children would cause a buzz for sure. No one would believe it, for one. Like Blake, who was constantly in the media, some model draped over his arm as he left whatever seedy, underground EDM club he favored at the moment, I’ve had my pictures blasted in every gossip rag ever printed. Unlike Blake, all of my public transgressions were real–not his doctored, mind-manipulated versions. Blake played the playboy of the family, which he was exactly what people wanted to see, taking the public eye off his own siblings and my sisters, whereas I am exactly what’s presented.
I love bars. Clubs. Riotous, usually very public drunken nights. I get away with it a lot more in Crescent Falls, for sure. I’m just Aris there. Some rich, spoiled bastard. I’ve been called a man-whore, a prick, and the scum of the earth by pretty much every woman that’s ever crossed my path, and I probably deserve it.
It’s not my fucking fault I’m so Goddess-damned handsome.
But it is probably my fault I haven’t felt the itch to settle down yet. I can admit to that.
In my defense, I blame my family. Wholeheartedly. This is their fault.
“Let me see that sweet angel.” Brie grins as she plops down beside me on the sand, her flowy linen sundress barely hiding the growing swell of her second pregnancy. She’s only a few months along but glowing as she scoops Fallon out of my arms and settles her in her lap. Fallon rubs her face against Brie’s forearm, gives her an experimental gnaw, and settles, going back to watching the other kids with owl-eyed amusement.
“Where’s Maeve? She back yet?”
“Is she back yet?” Brie corrects me, throwing me what I know is a glare behind her massive sunglasses reflecting the first signs of the sunset. “You’re going to be Alpha of Veiled Valley one day. You should start speaking like it.”
“Why do you even care? It’s not like Mom and Dad are even thinking about that.”
“I know for a fact Mom has other things she’d like to do with her life, and Dad has his hands overly full with the Ghosts.”
I lean back, bracing my hands against the sand, and tilt my face to the last inklings of warm, tropical sunlight. “It won’t happen for me anytime soon. I’m fine being just the prince, anyway. I enjoy my freedom and being the forgotten middle child. It works in my favor.”
“You’ve been–” She lowers her voice to a whispered hiss, “slutting around for years, Aris. Do you really think no one has noticed how easily you tend to slip away and do whatever the hell you want?”
I smirk into the golden haze of the sunset now draping over the beach, casting long shadows on the sand. “I’m a Shadowsynger, Brie. Slipping into the shadows–being an actual shadow–is what I was made to do. You can’t fault me for that, just like the family can’t take fault in what I like to do in my free time. Blake’s mess, Maeve’s scandal, and your disappearance gives me more freedom than I’ll ever have again. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”
Skye rushes up to Brie to show her a shell Kieran just found. Kieran isn’t far behind, and he beams up at Skye like she’s the salt of the earth. He’s surprisingly calm around her, and being calm hasn’t ever been part of his nature. I’ve wondered, over the last two days the kids have been here, whether Skye is just his new best friend, or if the little mystic is actively controlling his devilish tendencies, trapping them in her powers before they can bloom into chaos. Either way, it’s been working out just fine.
“Grandma Maddy has dinner going inside. You both should go in and eat, okay? We’ll come back to the beach tomorrow. How does that sound?”
Kieran’s lower lip begins to tremble as he stares at his mom, the beginnings of the word “No!” trying to form, but Skye grabs his little hand and tugs him toward the grassy tide line, toward the backyard of the house overlooking the water, where adult voices drift over the soft symphony of music coming from the kitchen.
We watch them go. Kieran doesn’t fight it, but Brie sighs heavily, almost wistfully, as she says, “I’m really thankful Marianna allowed Skye to be here. I think both of them needed a break.”
Admittedly, I don’t know Marianna very well. I’m only a few months younger than Blake, and while we grew up close, especially as children, Brie was the only one he remained close to when he went dark. I knew Blake had a girlfriend or whatever back in the day, but I hadn’t been prepared for the full truth of it. Now, we’re living it, watching his daughter wrap everyone in the family around her tiny, yet powerful, fingers.
I’ve never had anything remotely that deep. I’ve never loved anyone outside of my family. I’ve never had anyone to fight for, someone I’d lay my own life down for.
That I’d blow up a temple and risk war for.
I don’t think I’m a bad person, but… I know I’m not the greatest man, either. I can’t hold a candle to what my grandfather, Ryatt, and my great uncle Isaac have done. Nor my great-grandfather, Maddox. Nor my pseudo-uncles–Ryan and Syd. Hell, my father is a hundred times the man I’m sure I’ll ever be.
I know I’m overlooked. I’ve been through warrior training, been given a captain’s position in the Ghosts, but it’s not my passion, by any means. Lately, with all the shit going on in Eastonia and abroad, I’ve been… home. Walking through the castle—alone—while everyone else deals with what could be a war on the horizon and missing family members. I just exist at this point in time.
I’ll be Alpha of Veiled Valley one day, sure, but that could be decades from now.
“What’s up with you?” Brie asks. I’d honestly forgotten she was still sitting here.
“Just been thinking.”
“You’ve just been thinking about what?” She nudges my shoulder before rising with Fallon in her arms.
“Do you think they’re okay?”
Brie purses her lips as she adjusts Fallon against her shoulder, swaying and patting her back. “I don’t know. I want to say yes. I want to say Lexa is holding herself up–that she trained enough for whatever’s happening to her. I want to say Blake has everything handled and that they’re together, that he knew this was going to happen and left to intercept her and whoever took her, but I struggle to make sense of this. Maeve is doing everything she can to find them, pushing her powers to their breaking point to reach them, but….” She takes a breath, smiling sadly down at Fallon, who is here with Soren only. Maeve is in the Deadlands with Ryan and Aviva, as well as Brie’s husband and mate, Logan.
“How’s Logan holding up?” I ask.
Another breath–this one sharp. “He’s angry. I’m sure you understand why. We spent years trying to bring a sense of peace to Emberfyll, and now it’s just… gone.”
“Then you’ll stay in the Deadlands?”
She shrugs, her cheeks going suddenly pink in the golden light, now fading rapidly as night yawns on the horizon, another day passing without solid answers. “I hope not. Sure, it’s where Logan grew up. Aviva and Ryan are his parents, all things considered. But he wanted more for his people, and so do I. And now Lexa is missing and he–” She bites the words back. “And we’re having another baby, another baby that’ll be like him and Kieran, and everything we know about the fae… he’s struggling with it, and rightfully so. We know nothing. That’s the only clear thing right now.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask, already knowing the answer. No, it’s fine. No, Aris, just remain where you are, doing whatever it is you do to fill your time. So on, and so forth.
“No,” she says with a sad smile. “We’re going to be okay. That’s all I want.”
Brie turns toward the house as the first streaks of violet paint the sky–the same color as Blake’s eyes. I grind my teeth, digging deep into my powers of shadow, questioning if I could, theoretically, find him and Lexa myself. Be the hero. The one who finally put a stop to the madness tearing the family apart.
Not tonight. Tonight, Maddy is hosting the youngest generation, making pancakes for dinner, a longstanding tradition started by my great-grandfather. Tonight, Marianna is probably playing her violin again in the orrery in Crescent Falls, where Maddy says she spends most of her time–pining. Yearning for a man who might not come back.
Tonight, Maeve is probably sitting on the shore of Teskha, cursing Blake and his schemes, and wondering how the hell she’s supposed to keep Eastonia safe.
Tonight, I decide not to stay in Maatua. The world spins out of control as sand turns to dark stone and dimly lit, ancient hallways. The castle in Veiled Valley whispers its secrets as I move through the darkness, up stairwells and across balconies giving a sweeping view of the gothic foyer below.
Grandma Ella is in the library when I arrive, adding the finishing touches on a new painting. She looks up at me when I move toward one of the shelves, picking a book at random, and sit down.
“What are you doing home so soon?”
“Nothing,” I reply, and it’s the honest truth. “I’m doing absolutely nothing.” I open the book, flipping through a few pages while the house whispers around us, sending a soft gust of air skittering around the room. I smooth a page down, but the spirit of the house, in a playful, annoying mood, sprints around me–a phantom of silent chaos. A single page rustles before falling flat, and it’s a picture of a forest, lightning bugs dancing, blinking in the gaps between trees.
“What book is that?” Grandma Ella cranes her neck, then smiles, her sea-green eyes crinkling. “Oh, I remember that one. It used to be one of your favorite stories growing up.”
“I don’t even remember it.” I smooth a finger over the fading page, the illustration slowly lightening with time.
“You loved that little fox so much,” Grandma Ella smiles wistfully, her voice soft and reminiscent.
“What fox?”
“This one here. Don’t you see it? Guarding that shadow?” She points to the corner of the page where there is, indeed, a little white fox, and behind it, the shadow of a… a great wolf. A strange sense drifts over me as I slowly turn the page.