Cocking his head, Blaise narrowed his gaze as if he were listening intently to something. “They’re here.”
“They?”
“Morgen’s dogs. That’s what I was trying to tell you. She was given a hole, and whileshecan’t come through it, her Circle now can.”
“So? Why should I care? That’s your battle, brother. Not mine.”
And before Blaise could let out another word, the door behind him opened.
Falcyn’s gut drew tight at the sight and arrival of Narishka duFey Morgen’s right-hand bitch.
And the creature Falcyn hated most.
So much for this being Blaise’s battle alone. Falcyn’s blood flowed thick through his veins as he started for the tiny blond Adoni who’d robbed him of everything he’d ever hoped to love.
Holding her hand up, she caught him with her powers and tsked. “You know better, dragon. What were you thinking?”
“How much I want to feast on your entrails, fey-bitch!”
And still she didn’t flinch. Rather, she shook her head at him. “Now, now, is that any way to speak to the stepmother of your child?”
Those words only fired his anger more as they awoke a pain so profound inside him that not even all these centuries could quell it. “You mean the murderess of my son, don’t you?”
Blaise gaped. The birth of his son was something Falcyn had never mentioned to another living creature.
Other than Max.
And neither of them spoke of Maddor, as the mere mention of it made him most violent against his brother.
Narishka only knew because she’d helped her sister conceive and birth his son. And to what purpose? To become a slave for Morgen le Fey—thanks to Max and his interference. Because of his brother’s actions, the mandrakes were nowhere near as powerful a race as they should have been. Hence why they all lived in servitude to the fey whores of Avalon and Camelot.
Maddor, as their progenitor, had been the first to suffer—shouldering the bulk of Morgen’s blind rage because of Max’s actions. And there had been nothing Falcyn could do to stop her or help his son.
Nothing.
Not even on the day they’d finally killed Maddor because of Max’s curse. For that alone, Falcyn still wanted their hearts in his fists. Not a day went by that he didn’t burn in anger over the loss of his child.
And that was why Falcyn had loved and protected Blaise for all these centuries.
Because Blaise wasn’t really his brother.
He was his grandson. One he’d been forbidden to meet until long after Blaise had grown into his own. Which was why Falcyn had kept the knowledge of his birth from Blaise. Nothing save more pain could come from Blaise learning the truth.
He hadn’t been abandoned by his father. He’d been torn from them and left to die by the Adoni, who were even more cruel.
And it stung him enough for them both. There was no need in burdening Blaise with a reality he couldn’t change. Come hell itself, Falcyn would die before he allowed anyone to ever again harm Blaise.
“Bitch, please!” Falcyn used his powers to break her hold and slam her back against the wall hard enough to put a dent in the sheetrock.
Finally, panic and fear sparked in her eyes as she realized the true extent of his powers and her own weakness in comparison. She fought against his invisible grip. “Kill me and your son dies, too.”
“My son died a long time ago.”
Narishka shook her head. “Maddor still lives.”
Those three unexpected words saved her life. “What do you mean?”
Grimacing, she glared at Blaise. “Tell him! Maddor still rules over the mandrakes at Camelot.”
