Razik shrugged, not bothering to look up as he loaded eggs onto a piece of toast and took a bite. Truthfully, the male was a prick to everyone; it was just magnified when it came to Cethin.
When Razik continued to stay silent, Jarek turned to the Fae female. “Where’d you sneak off to, Wren?”
She shot him a flat look as she popped a piece of melon into her mouth. Her navy blue eyes narrowed, and her dark brown, nearly black, hair slid over a shoulder as she tipped her head. “Some of us were out working all night, Jarek. The last thing we wanted to do was deal with your drunken asses as the sun rose.”
Another male a few chairs down snorted a huff of laughter. “Tell me more about thiswork, Wren. I’m sure it was difficult for both of you— Fucking Fates!” he suddenly cursed, diving for the ground when his chair went up in black flames.
The other members of the Cadre snickered as the male glared at Razik. Getting to his feet, he grumbled, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You should know better than to insinuate anything about Wren,” Fallon quipped, her long blonde hair in a plait that hung over her shoulder. “She’s off limits in every way, Bram.”
The youngest member of the Cadre grumbled under his breath as he slid into another seat a few chairs down, his light green eyes now fixed on his breakfast with a glare.
“What are the plans for today? The usual training, or do we get to do something different?” Jarek asked, tying back his dark blond hair before digging into his food.
“Glad you asked,” came another voice moments before Tybalt entered the room. All the Cadre straightened as their Commander appeared, and no, it didn’t escape Cethin that they showed him more respect than they did their king. He didn’t really care. They were the closest thing he had to friends, and even at that, he didn’t think he could classify them as such. He’d told them long ago they didn’t need to bother with decorum when no one else was around. He’d been told countless times by his advising council that should have changed, especially when he was crowned king, but there were too many other changes happening for him to care about that one.
But things had changed anyway.
Cethin held in his sigh as a stack of reports was placed atop the ones he was already going through. His life had become nothing more than endless reports and meetings.
He rubbed his brow with his forefinger, skimming the first page before glancing up to find Tybalt already staring at him. The male’s warm brown eyes were hard, his jaw tight.
More Fae had been found dead last night.
The Fae numbers in Avonleya had been dismal for centuries. Until recently, they couldn’t figure out what was killing them, and Cethin still wasn’t sold on the idea that it had been these phantom creatures the entire time. Either way, the Fae numbers were nearly nonexistent now, which for Avonleyans was disastrous.
Avonleyans were the descendants of the gods. They originally descended from a god or goddess who had a child with a demigod—half god, half mortal. The bit of mortal blood from the demigod weakened their magic, making them less than the gods they descended from. Along the way, those Avonleyans hadchildren with other mortals, but some had children with other magical beings: Fae, Legacy, Shifters, Witches. Most of those living in Avonleya were those descendants. More powerful than an average Legacy, a descendant of a demigod and a mortal, but not as powerful as the gods. Not even as powerful as a deity, a child of a god and another magical being. Centuries later, the terms Avonleyan and Legacy were nearly interchangeable, even if Avonleyans were more powerful.
None of that would have mattered if it weren’t for the fact that the gods were fearful of their Legacy, and thus Avonleyans, becoming too powerful. To assuage those fears, they made both dependent on the Fae to refill their power rapidly. A gift it had been called. Cethin had always thought it to be more of a curse.
Their magic reserves could refill over time, but the process was excruciatingly slow. And living with low power reserves was an agony in and of itself. It kept most Avonleyans from even using their magic unless forced to. Without a Fae counterpart, it was their only option. It was forbidden in their kingdom to force a Fae to become their sources of power though. The Fae had to be willing, the choice consensual between the two parties.
Which is why Razik had a Source bond with Wren, while Cethin, the ruler of the kingdom, didn’t have a Source at all.
It was also why the dwindling number of Fae was a problem. One he’d thought he’d found a solution to three seasons ago when a ship from across the sea had found its way here.Since then, two more ships had arrived. All of them brought a small number of Fae among the passengers, fleeing a continent where the Fae were feared by mortals, only to find a worse fate here.He’d promised safety, and instead they were meeting death.
“Where were they found? Was it the same beings?” Cethin demanded, the question more of a low growl that had the entire room falling silent.
“Same area. In the southwest part of Shira Forest, on the edge of the trees,” Tybalt replied just as tightly. “We have no way of knowing for sure if they were the same beings. Wounds didn’t match those of the recent attack, but they were the same as previous attacks over the last years. Something needs to be done, Cethin, especially with another ship being spotted coming from the east.”
“Have they crossed the Wards yet?” Cethin asked.
Tybalt shook his head. “It remains to be seen whether they’ll make it.”
Because not all the ships did, and for the life of him, Cethin couldn’t figure out why some were able to cross the Wards and others weren’t. Far more failed than made it, likely returning to spread tales of how the rumors were false and that the Wards still stood.
Which they did.
For now.
“Night Children?” Jarek asked, and Cethin clenched his jaw.
Night Children hadn’t been an issue in Avonleya his entire life. If they were suddenly going to become a problem, of course Fate would make that happen during his first year as king. But while Night Children were a possibility, it didn’t seem likely. The Fae numbers had been declining for years, long before a few ships had managed to traverse the Wards.
“We’ll go investigate the area where the Fae were found,” Razik cut in, getting to his feet, the Fae female following suit.
“You won’t,” Cethin retorted. “Not with Wren.”
