The female froze under Cethin’s stare, and Razik’s lip curled back, baring his teeth. “You think I won’t keep her safe?” the male demanded.
“I think there are others who can go so we don’t need to risk it. Jarek, Fallon, and Bram can go. If anything,Ishould be going with them.”
“With all due respect, Cethin, until we figure this out, you shouldn’t be anywhere near the scenes of discovery. Especially considering the events of two weeks ago,” Tybalt cut in.
“I’m the king. I should be part of uncovering what is harming my people,” he argued, hands flat on the wood table. Inky darkness seeped from his palms, and he inhaled sharply, working to keep his power from overtaking him. The same godsdamn magic for centuries, and he still felt like he could scarcely control it at times. He much preferred his other gifts.
“You are the king,” Tybalt agreed. “Which means you have responsibilities?—”
“To ensure this kingdom is safe for my people,” Cethin interrupted.
Tybalt’s gaze darted away, eyeing the rest of the room where the Cadre were all eating, looking anywhere but at them and trying to appear otherwise occupied. Except for Razik. He was glaring at both of them, his arms crossed and features telling exactly how irritated he was with all of this.
“Jarek, Fallon, and Bram go search the area where the Fae were found,” Tybalt said after a tense moment of silence. “The rest of you can go lead drills with the sentinels.”
Everyone else filed out, but Razik stayed put, feet planted where he stood. Jerking his chin, Wren followed the Cadre from the dining room. Razik waited until the heavy doors thudded closed before his arms dropped to his sides, hands curling into fists.
“This is bullshit, and you know it,” Razik spat, his sapphire eyes flickering with black flames.
“Razik,” Tybalt said sternly, but before he could go on, Cethin interjected.
“It’s not bullshit. Whatever this is, it’s targeting Fae. You think it a wise idea to willingly bring Wren to the last place of attack? It’s your job to protect her?—”
“Do not lecture me on my responsibilities, Cethin,” Razik snarled, leaning towards him and bracing his hands on the table.
“Someone has to because you sure seem to shirk a lot of them.”
“Fuck off,” Razik snapped, his pupils shifting to vertical slits and glowing bright blue.
“Both of you, enough!” the Commander cut in. “You both have responsibilities. Things could be different if?—”
“Don’t you dare say it, Tybalt,” Razik snarled.
Tybalt straightened, all his features tightening as he looked at his adopted son. “Then fall in line and go do your job, Razik.”
Razik said nothing else, stalking from the room. The doors banged behind him, and Cethin heard him bark something to the other Cadre members before the sound of boots echoed.
Cethin stared at Tybalt. The male who could best be described as an uncle to him. Cethin had known him his entire life. He’d served as the Commander of the Avonleyan Forces for as long as Cethin could remember, and he’d been close to both his parents. Even when the Commander had been trapped on the other side of the Wards for far too long, he’d returned and gone right back to his duties.
“I’ll talk to him,” Tybalt said. “He shouldn’t speak to you like that.”
“Don’t bother,” Cethin muttered, grabbing the stacks of papers and straightening them. Nothing ever changed with the male, and he was fine with that. He had bigger things to worry about, and he avoided speaking with Razik unless necessary.
“You’re not as different as you think,” Tybalt tried. “If the two of you could just?—”
“I have meetings to get to,” Cethin interrupted. “Thank you for the reports this morning. Let me know what the Cadre learns upon their return.”
“Of course, your Majesty,” Tybalt said with a small bow of his head.
The title irked him coming from someone he was so close to, but he understood. At the moment, he was pulling rank. He was the king, and Tybalt was the Commander.
Nothing was as it should be.
But he would fix all of this, even if it killed him in the end.
Just like it’d killed his father.
Chapter 4
