When I took my castle, I simply used my mental magic to let the occupants know I was now the owner. They walked out with a few false memories of conflict to make it believable. My plan worked beautifully, except no one outside of these walls believed my planted lie. The families immediately pegged me as a mentalist, and I’d spent the last seven years mitigating that damage by using mind magic as little as possible.
But had I truly done anything?
My enemies still wanted me dead for existing. Now, with the powerhouse from the past willingly at my side, even my allies were quick to call foul play.
The code I lived by made me feel safe. However, it was a false sense of security. I’m sure some of the people around me appreciated it, but others saw my guidelines as a show they didn’t believe I followed anyway.
Rowan and the Lawson charged each other.
Killing wasn’t an option unless they made it one. But if they insisted on fearing me, I’d give them a reason.
My eyes widened, vision going distant, while my magic slid into the fear nodes of the minds breaching my home.
Their nightmares weren’t mine to script. I merely opened the door and let terror rush in.
The first shriek pierced the air, and I smiled. I hated that it made me smile, but this was control—raw power. And it felt too good. If they lived through the night, they should quiver at the very thought of ever coming near my castle again.
Another scream followed, cut off by a sickening hack. Within moments, the night filled with a chorus of fear and pain. Rowan trembled in front of me. To his credit, he didn’t run. My fear didn’t affect him. He only witnessed the results, and for the first time, he experienced what I could do.
A whimper slipped out of our attacker, and the sharp stench of piss hit the air. Instead of running, he stepped closer, one reckless step toward me. Rowan moved first. Steel flashed, and his massive sword drove into the man’s side with a sickening thud, punching straight through muscle until it struck bone. The elemental grunted, braced, and with a second brutal push, Rowan finished the cut. The body split. Blood and viscera spilled across the cobbles in steaming ropes. My fear—chewing through the invader’s rational mind—released him only when the light left his eyes.
Those still trapped in my fear screamed into the night, a chorus of the damned. A younger version of me would have bled for the lives lost… but the man I’d become understood choices. I couldn’t carry the world’s guilt. They’d invaded my home. Now it was up to my people to decide whether to let them run or cut them down where they stood. I wouldn’t judge either choice.
‘If anyone makes it to the gate, let them go so they can let the world know.’I directly imprinted my need onto my enforcers at the gate. I didn’t wait for their response; their will was mine.
The screams eased. A few men sprinted past me, one even dressed in my trainee uniform. My smile faltered. All my advisors warned me against letting just anyone into my walls. They pointed out I was uniquely able to find out anyone's true intentions, but that would have broken my code.
My fear targeted one of my own because he wasn’t loyal to me. I was letting evil into my castle to appease the world at large. Anger boiled just under my skin, and this time, I let it simmer.
In minutes, what had been a battlefield raging inside my walls turned into a graveyard.
Blood dripped off Rowan’s blade. He still stood guard in front of me, a pillar of muscle and loyalty, but my mind could taste his unease. His emotions obliterated the little power high my magic had given me, but I wouldn’t take back my actions.
Because I held back, Horax was able to take Quinn.
Because I held back, three men now held my Alun.
Bile turned the back of my throat into acid.
My TB buzzed as reports filled it. One by one, my officers, with a handful of others, checked in, assessing damage and requesting help for the injured. My focus shifted to the person I’d abandoned.
‘Quinn?’I asked my lover.
His thoughts came back to me in a jumbled mess. He was on his way home with Quinn, who was cold. So cold. The rest wasa collection of images and sensations. He’d been in a fight. Inky cerulean-blue magic mixed with his and Cayden’s to destroy the Prophet, but something was going on in Quinn’s mind he didn’t understand. Worse, my lover’s thoughts were fogged as if he struggled to stay awake yet couldn’t sleep.
At the moment, I could do nothing for either of them until they returned. For now, I needed to secure my walls so they had a home to come back to.
“Quinn’s safe and a few hours away,” I said for Rowan’s benefit. I took out my TB. “Do not leave my side. They’re still in my Alun.”
Rowan grunted. “Who’s they?”
I scowled, having already brushed their minds. “Erick Adler Michelson did not come here to join my family.”
Chapter 3
Quinn
Thebrightlightsbuzzedunder the soft sound of “Let it Go” from Disney’sFrozen, playing on a small TV in the corner of my hospital room. My heart rate monitor steadily beeped…
