Savine took a deep breath. It was too much to imagine—a life after this war. To be united with his soulmate and his country was something he’d dreamed of for so long that it hadn’t felt real in decades.
“You never told me how you two became soulmates,” said Savine. He never asked, but that was beside the point. Maybe hearing of their happiness would help keep his dream of a life with Avery alive.
Raikin shook his head and stood to leave. “Jay can tell the story. He loves to tell it, to the point where it makes me nauseous.”
But as he turned to walk away, he cocked his head in a peculiar gesture. Raikin’s tense face could only mean trouble.
Savine cocked his head and stood, reaching for his sword. Yes, he heard it too. The unmistakable sound of elk hoof beats. Just as the sound drew Savine’s attention, Jari let out a long, loud cry. He heard the responding bugle of another male elk. War elk, most likely.So much for the element of surprise.
Savine, Jay, and Raikin immediately stepped into a battle stance. Whoever this was, they were Latians. Chances were, this far south they would not be loyal to Savine.
He felt the whisper of the trees rustling.“It is him. He has come.”
“It’s Jasper,” Savine growled out to Raikin. Unconsciously, Savine touched the crown of boughs still planted on his head. Just what he fucking needed now.
His enemy.
His torturer.
His father.
“Stand with me,” he spoke to the trees as he coursed his essence toward root and trunk. The trees responded the way he knew they would when their king called to them. Lifting their trunks from deep under the earth, the pines, cedars, spruce, and firs stood like sentinels ready for battle.
Savine couldn’t deny that this moment was significant. The last time they stood with him in front of the king, he had fled his home as a man who had not yet realized his own power. The potential that coursed through his essence was always that of the true King of Latiah.
But now.
Now he knew.
He may not have Avery by his side as he hoped, and he could not finish this properly and survive. But he would unleash his power upon his father. His former abuser and his former king. Savine was done running. Done fighting to survive while waiting for his father to falter.
His father rode into the clearing, directly up to Savine and the phalanx of trees that stood guard beside Savine and Raikin.
Jasper’s coppery skin, so much like Savine’s own, looked unchanged after the past twenty-five years. His essence still coursed in a raging beat of fur below the surface of his skin. Jasper’s golden eyes sparkled under the weight of his gilded, antlered crown. That crown, marking him as the ruler of the beasts, was clear. But did Jasper know the elk had answered Savine’s call in battle?
The scowl on his father’s face told Savine he had not expected to see what was now set on Savine’s head. The crown of branches that had cut through his flesh as he called, and the trees answered him. The crown that marked him, not only the heir to the Latian throne, but a king in his own regard. His grandfather’s own mark as the ruler of the terrestrial world.
“I see much has changed since you last dared call upon the trees against me,” Jasper spoke. His tone was strangely calm, considering this was the first time they spoke in over twenty-five years. Even now, Savine was at a loss that his father thought he chose to be awakened by the trees on that cold, snowy night. The night the sky opened up and dropped stardust and flowers on him.
Jasper turned his attention to Raikin, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Savine. “And my traitorous emissary. All I did for you has been for nought when you made your loyalties clear.”
“Jasper, don’t deny your hand in the capture of the human I found and claimed under my protection,” Savine spat. “But why have the Nepheli do your dirty work? Perhaps it is to let history repeat itself?”
Jasper let out a scathing laugh. His voice was filled with cruelty and cynicism as he spoke. “After all the interesting rumors I heard regarding you and the little witch, I thought you would have finally grown a spine and taken her as your mate. After all, the power of awitch could be unrivaled in all Aeritis. Just like her ancestors. Instead, I see you have disappointed me yet again.” Jasper pursed his lips and spat at Savine’s feet. “You always were such a disappointment. You have never been what a true heir to the Latian throne should be. And now, with the little witch locked in the Tower of Teeth and you falling right into my plans, I will be rid of you and any threat to my nation.”
Savine did not reply with words. Instead, he charged at Jasper. The Rule of Progeny be damned. He would kill his father himself, even if it meant sacrificing his right to rule and forfeiting his own life.
He moved quickly, but his father did too as he lept off his war elk and stood to meet his son. Savine’s blade crashed into his father’s with a force that momentarily knocked Jasper off a step. But before Savine could make another blow, his father retaliated with a blow that Savine blocked. They continued fighting with their steel instead of their magic. Savine knew they were just getting started. None of the other warriors dared attack. Instead, they circled the two crowned kings, bated breath as they waited to see who would come out the victor.
Well, fuck that. Savine was done with Jasper’s rule. It had gone on long enough.
With a shout to attack, Savine called his trees to move against the two dozen Latians who were with his father. Limbs swung against bodies, sending the men and women flying through the air. Some shifted into their animal form, tearing and clawing at the trees. Raikin fought with his sword near Savine, going against one of his former allies.
A mountain lion shifter leapt at Raikin’s back. Jay took up his battle axe, making quick work of her. She didn’t even have time to sink her claws into Raikin’s flesh before she was on the ground, grimacing in pain.
Savine’s essence grew restless under his skin, desiring to be let loose. But he kept it contained. He would save it for the final blow.
His father grinned as Savine stabbed his sword into his father’s leather armor before he turned, just enough to miss receiving more than a mere scratch.
