The outcome is 50/50 for a child born to two different people. Either human or vampire, in Adrian’s case. And having a human son makes his situation as a father extremely tragic.
“I’ve been on this land for two hundred and sixty years, but my mate is twenty-seven human years,” he adds. “I have a lot of time ahead of me, thanks to her resetting me. I’m ready to stand by your side till the day I die.”
That’s why mates are so coveted. When they bond, it shifts their time clock, resetting them to the younger one’s age, and the human’s life extends into a supernatural state. It’s a science just beginning to be studied. I heard a rumor that one human even gained a small amount of accelerated healing after he was mated to a fae. But so much is still unknown.
One thing is clear, though, that extending life won’t extend to Adrian’s son. He’ll have to watch age transform him.
I know what it’s like to have parents more concerned with the sharpness of their swords than their child’s memories. I don’t blame my parents. That’s the cards they were dealt. If I can make Adrian’s limited time with his son not be filled with war, then I will.
“I’ll tell you what I know, but first, you said Everett saw your future. What did he see?” I ask.
He presses into his chair, leaning on his elbow. “Everett saw my son’s future. Two outcomes. One where Sable succeeded.” His jaw clenches. “He… he…” Uttering the truth is a battle this warrior can’t win.
“You don’t have to say it,” I relent. If Sable wins, his son dies.
“Everett said if I helped make you king and remained loyal, then my son would live.”
I place the book on his desk, stand, and fill my fingers with small dancing flames. “Don’t seal away all the facts. Tell me what made you hesitate just now. What unspoken truth had your eyes looking down?”
He bites his inner cheek. “Everett said Griffen would be a king.” Flames spread to my elbows. Adrian speaks quickly but steadily, “Not of these lands. Not a king that rivals you, Titus, one that isloyalto you.”
“Kings are not loyal to one another,” I remind him.
“You will start as a king, Titus, but perhaps that is just the base before the climb. I think you’ll be more once you get the Vitalis. An emperor unites kings.”
“Don’t inflate my ego; I’m riddled with holes, and your puffs of air won’t remain.”
“Food for thought. Everett said you’d be a king, but he told me to push you. And here is my shove.” He slaps his desk.
He never told me that because I would have run.
“Explain. Fast.” My flames wrap around my neck, warming and soothing my tense muscles.
“Everett said Griffen would… it sounds crazy, but Everett claimed Griffen would become a rider, and he’d get a dragon; he’d be the first, then the others would follow him.”
“Dragons do not exist,” I scoff, even as I doubt my own words.
“As runes do not?”
A rider? That’s… possible since Griffen is human and not a vampire. Fairytales claim that riders were humans who were rune-marked to bond with their dragons. That’s why Adrian is fighting for this, risking everything. “If your son can be turned into a rider, he’ll no longer be as vulnerable. It’s a layer of protection any parent would die for.”
“Now you know why I’m doing all this. I do not desire a crown for Griffen’s head, for I know the weight it will bear down on him. But I’d do anything to see him not be as fragile as glass in a hail storm. Our world is harsh, Titus.”
“Riders do not live as long as vampires do. Their lifespan remains human.”
His lip tugs down. “That is a fate I must bear. We can not have everything,” he whispers.
I fail to meet his eyes, but the weight of his hope and dreams presses into me.
“Everett said my son would bend a knee to you, that all the dragons and riders would follow you. Yeah, that look on your face is why I didn’t say anything. Runes bring peace, but peace awakens monsters. Magic always seeks balance. Dragons and other creatures will wake from slumber.”
“You’re betting everything on fables,” I voice. The book catches my eye: its cover is old and torn, with stained pages. We’ve been dying for men with crowns; perhaps dying for words is a more poetic way to go.
“Now who is lying?”
“You can understand why this is hard to chew. Everett placed us at the bottom of a treacherous path, quaking the land under our feet, forcing us to proceed without any tools, or fall into a chasm. I’m trying to climb, but every summit I reach, I barely survive, Adrian.”
“We have clues, and those are tools enough. You and I both know if the climb doesn’t kill us, the descent can. We need to be ready to get down the other side. I need to make sure you succeed, Titus, because my son’s fate is on that other side.”
