“It’s always about Cethin,” Razik interrupted. “Cethin and his godsdamn bloodline that’s trying to decide my fate. That I’ve paid the price for my entire fucking life.”
He watched Tybalt take a deep breath, clearly calming his own dragon, before he said, “It was different before. When Tethys was alive. When Selinya?—”
He paused when Razik gave a snort of disgust at the mention of the queen.
Rubbing his brow for several seconds, Tybalt sighed, then swiped his hand down his face. “I know I was gone for a long time, Razik. Too long. I know those years were…trying for you. Alone here with the royal family. I understand nothing has been fair for you from the moment you stepped foot into this realm.”
That was an understatement, but Razik said nothing. Life wasn’t fair. He’d learned that when he’d watched his parents leave him in a realm with only his uncle when he was scarcely seven years.
No, life wasn’t fair. Being immortal simply made the misery last longer.
“Do you want to leave?” Tybalt asked, his tone a touch softer.
“If we’re done speaking, yes. I’d like to go train,” Razik replied, suddenly feeling the need to do just that. Work his body into a state of exhaustion. Go through stances and movements that made sense. Follow routines that made him feel in control of something—anything—in his life.
Tybalt shook his head. “No. I mean do you want toleave?Avonleya. This realm.” When Razik didn’t answer, he said, “Because Cethin is our sole way to do that.”
“Our?” Razik repeated, eyeing his uncle.
“I think you forget this is not my home world either, Razik,” he replied, side-stepping him and making his way tothe door. “You think I’ve grown complacent, but you forget I’ve had centuries longer than you to learn patience and strategy. It’s in our blood. Moves and countermoves.” He paused in the doorway, looking back at Razik once more as he repeated, “And Cethin is our only way out.”
He stared at the empty doorway for several minutes after Tybalt left, leaving him with those words and his thoughts. Razik had spent his entire life reading every book he could find. Devouring knowledge. Preparing himself to fight against a destiny being pushed on him.
It had never occurred to him that maybe his uncle was doing the same in his own way.
As he made his way to the arena to join the Cadre, he let himself recall his earliest years. What he could remember of them anyway. A time that was merely glimpses of memory. Parents who’d cared for him in those brief years. Cousins. Flying. Lands in the sky.
They’d left the world he was born in to come here when he was four years. But while he remembered little of his homeland, Tybalt refused to talk about it. He’d stopped asking his uncle questions about the world now known as The Requiem decades ago. Partly because his uncle had been gone for ages. More than that, there was hardly any mention of it in the thousands upon thousands of books he’d combed through in his centuries of life.
It was as if that world had never really existed at all.
“About time the favorite joins us,” Jarek called as he entered the arena, the others snickering.
Razik didn’t bother replying. He simply flipped them the middle finger over his shoulder before pulling off his tunic and picking up a sword.
He wasn’t the favorite. He was only wanted for his bloodline. That was where his value was. Had always been. They only wanted to use him for it.
But maybe he could use Cethin in the same way. Maybe his uncle was right.
And maybe Cethin’s new female was the perfect way to get to him.
Chapter 7
Cethin
By Arius, he needed to know what that bastard had said to her. How long had they been alone in this dining room? Long enough for Razik to plant lies and rumors if she’d been here before him and he’d already finished his godsdamn breakfast.
Cethin hadn’t been able to sleep after leaving the female in her rooms with strict orders to the castle guards to alert him immediately if she tried to leave. Apparently, he should have been more specific, because while he’d meant if she tried to leave her rooms, they’d interpreted his orders as if she tried to leave the castle. When sleep had evaded him, he’d slipped down to his personal study and workroom in the castle catacombs. No one knew of it, but he could still receive messages there.
Which is why he’d been more than a little perturbed when he’d emerged mid-morning and gone to her rooms to find her not there.
He’d rushed down here, finding the dragon with her, and then the male had leaned in and spoken low to her and?—
She was staring at him.
Or rather, she was glaring at him.
He cleared his throat, reaching for the bowl of fried potatoes. “So you met Razik,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and void of the vitriol the male elicited.
