“Though I fuckin’ loathe to ever agree with the bastard, changing the plan is,” Daelen pauses, searching for the right words, “quite problematic, brother.” His considered approach settles the room, and Kael’s shadows dissipate in the air around us.
Kael exhales deeply and pours himself a goblet of thick crimson liquid. He takes a long pull on the drink and lifts his eyes, looking around the group.
“It’s your job to solve problems, is it not?” Kael posits. “Or perhaps there’s no use for you.” Something in his gaze is fierce and loaded with fury.
“We’ve been working on the plan for years, Kael?—”
Jax barely gets the word out before Kael cuts her off. “Prince Kael,” he corrects. His tone is all malice and ice.
Jax looks at him, incredulous, but Kael holds her gaze. Achallenge. She looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t dare. I don’t entirely blame her.
Therion, ever the voice of reason, “How about we all take tonight to drink, eat and sleep, and come back to the hollow tomorrow?”
The older gentleman, Eldric, places an affectionate hand on Therion’s shoulder, “A fine idea. Council, are we in agreement?”
Murmurs of agreement fill Council Hollow, but it’s Kael who has the final word. “Leave if you must, but if you can’t bring a new strategy to the table by the time we’re back from the next relic, you’ll find your seat filled by someone else.”
The group rise from their seats, breaking off into small groups to discuss matters, or leaving.
I’m left sitting here, reeling.
My mind spins, my pulse pounds. I came here expecting answers.
I’m leaving with even more fucking questions.
And the worst part? The only person who has answers is the same fucking liar who put me in the dark to begin with.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
KAEL
I swirlthe crimson liquor in my goblet, watching the slow ribbons of red coat the glass before tipping it back, letting the burn chase away the weight pressing against my ribs.
It doesn’t work.
It never fucking does.
The air in my bedroom is thick with aged oak, smoke, and the ghosts of that godsdamned meeting. The council was furious. Rightly so. Everything we’ve done—every sacrifice, every blood-stained decision—has been for the plan. And I just tore it apart with a single sentence.
For her.
I exhale sharply and rub my jaw, trying to stave off the tension coiling in my gut. Elyssara’s anger still lingers in my veins. I felt it in that meeting. Felt her fire burning at the edges of my mind, her fury clawing at my restraint.
She wanted answers.
She wanted to rip them from me with her bare hands.
And she will.
I’ve known her long enough to see the pattern. When she’s furious, she comes to me.Storms to me.It’s always been this way, eversince the moment she snarled at me with dirt under her nails and fire in her eyes in that filthy Dravari tannery. She’s like a storm—rolling in hot, leaving wreckage in her wake, shaking the ground beneath my feet before she lets me pull her under.
I tip my head back, watching the shadows coil along the ceiling.
Waiting.
Because I know she’ll come.
She always fucking does.
