Chapter 18
Razik
The rapping of knuckles on the doorjamb had him looking up.
Jarek’s face was grim when he said, “The Commander is here.”
Razik waited until the male had left before he released the heavy sigh. He’d been waiting for Tybalt to show up.
Everything had been complete shit since the phantoms had attacked. The physical fight with Cethin. Kailia’s attack. Coming back here only for Cethin to collapse. Yeah, it’d simply been a matter of time until his uncle showed up here. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t returned with Niara. Tybalt was one of the few people who could Travel directly into the Sutara Family Country Estate. Instead, Fallon had waited outside for the Witch while Jarek had helped get Cethin up to the king’s quarters on the third floor. Ariadne had gone with Draven and Bram to see what they could learn about Kailia’s attackers, but also to gather their hunting things and the horses. At least he didn’t have to deal with Bram right now.
“I’ll stay with her,” Wren said softly, sitting up from the sofa she’d been resting on. They’d been watching over Kailia while Jarek and Fallon had been staying with Cethin.
“Alert me if she so much as moves.”
“I know, Razik,” Wren said, pity in her tone.
His lips pressed in a firm line, he stood, heading downstairs to the sitting room and bracing himself for what was to come. Tybalt was the best father figure he could have asked for, but that was not who he was going to face right now. He was facing the Commander of the Avonleyan forces, whose king was once again present during an attack and had been severely wounded. On his watch. On the watch of the entire Cadre. They’d all be punished for that, but it would be different for him. It always was, and he deserved it, considering his actual charge was also unconscious in a bed.
The Sutara Family Country Estate was located on the southeast edge of Shira Forest. Far smaller than the castle and even some estates in Aimonway, it was a three-story home. And it was exactly that. A home. Instead of proper and regal, it was almost cozy and warm. More King Tethys’s doing than the queen’s. She didn’t know how to be anything but as cold as the stars.
He’d just stepped off the last stair when Tybalt appeared, his features tight with control. That is one thing his uncle excelled at. He could be furious and still keep himself composed and in check. In other words, he wouldn’t have punched the king in the face.
“Take me to Cethin,” he bit out, each word clipped and harsh.
Razik nodded, turning and heading back up the stairs, climbing to the third floor. The moment they entered the room, Jarek and Fallon were on their feet and at attention, eyes down. They knew as well as he did this was going to be bad when they were all back in Aimonway. When the immediate crises had passed. And in the meantime, they knew Tybalt was meticulously planning a grueling punishment for the follies that had happened on this hunt.
“Leave us,” Tybalt said sharply.
“Yes, Commander,” they both said in unison, not wasting any time to head for the door.
“Check in on Wren,” Razik called after them. “She’s with Kailia.”
Fallon glanced over her shoulder and gave him a quick nod before following Jarek from the room. Tense silence filled the space as Tybalt approached the bed where Cethin lay unconscious. His torso was wrapped in a thick bandage, but the bruises and cuts on his face from their brawl were still plenty visible. With so many injuries, it would take longer for Cethin’s magic to heal him.
“Tell me everything Niara has said,” Tybalt said curtly.
“She’s downstairs,” Razik answered, his brow creasing. Hadn’t he talked to her when he got here? “I can get her for a more comprehensive report.”
Glowing amber-red eyes with vertical pupils met his. “I want to hear it fromyou, Razik.”
He ground his molars, a muscle twitching in his jaw and a faint trace of pain echoing it, still feeling the effects of Cethin’s hits. His own magic wasn’t nearly replenished after the battle with the phantoms, and it would take him longer than usual to heal too.
“Two deep stab wounds to the right side,” Razik said. “One on top of the other. Normally not enough to lose consciousness, but the daggers used were not ones known to us. Niara believes the blades also caused some unexpected complications in her ability to aid the healing.”
“How did he receive the stab wounds?” Tybalt pushed, focused on the king.
“Kailia,” Razik ground out from between clenched teeth.
Tybalt hummed. “What else?”
“Broken ribs. Three of them. Along with the visual bruises and cuts.”
“Also from the future queen?”
His tone told Razik the Commander already knew the answer. Or, at the very least, knew it hadn’t been Kailia.
“No,” Razik gritted out. “Those are from me.”
