No, Haide is made different, and I can’t wait to cut her open and find out just how much.
She stares up at me with a bored expression, blowing smoke straight in my face in a move made to disrespect, and I have to work hard not to laugh.
She’s perfect. The air around her quite literally pulses with defiance, the war room itself recognizing a threat and making sure we’ve caught onto it.
Good.
Let them see what I chased. Let them see what Icaught.
The chamber, built from obsidian and the ancient blood, begins to thrum. I can feel it under my boots, thrumming like a heartbeat as the ancient stones stir, searching for the truth of the girl before me. Above us, the lights flicker once, twice, and with a breath of old magic, it clears.
The room finally stirs, the silence replaced with whispered words of curiosity.
They want to know who stands before one of their kings.
I’m fucking humming with anticipation.
The walls begin to shift around us and Haide moves to the side, gaze flickering out across the space as I sit back in my throne.
A breath later, we turn our attention to the people of Rathe. The courtyard is full, thousands standing in the square, shoulder to shoulder, on the cracked cobbled stone, staring up at the palace as the veil between us dissolves.
Creed rises like a blade being unsheathed: sharp, cold, and carved from the kind of authority people are bred to obey.
He steps forward, but his eyes linger on Haide for a moment, a tightness teasing at his temples.
“I speak now not only as your king,” he begins, his voice as steady and clean as polished steel. The courtyard stills instantly. “But as one of you.”
The weight of him is different from mine. Measured. Cold. Royal in a way I’ve never aspired to be.
“The battle for the throne is over. The blood spilled cannot be undone, but the path forwardcanbe rewritten. There will be no ministry, no share of the throne outside of the Deveraux name or split between our people.”
“And while we may have walked different paths, we are all born from the magic of the grounds we walk.”
“Not all of us,” I murmur with a grin. My eyes trail over the masses, the Stygian roaring in awaited vengeance, and the Argents, shuffling back in silence.
Aside from the slight frown that builds along his brow, Creed ignores me. He continues flawlessly, ever the perfectly bred son. “I can sense your fear, Argents. But believe me when I say you are safer now than you were before. Trust in us as your kings, and we will not do you wrong. Cross us and die.Disrespect usand die. This goes for all gifted kind, friend and foe. There will be no second chances and no ministry to back you, but we will consider building a council around us that you can trust.”
He waits for the news to settle before continuing.
“Now, we know there is distress in our streets. As your new leaders, we want to rule with transparency. That said, therumors you may have heard are true. There is a murderer among Rathe.”
A murmur ripples through the room, and it only grows louder when he continues.
“We have our best men on its trail and expect we are closing in.” I watch the color leave their faces, feel the panic roll. “When we catch them, there will be no theater of trial—only punishment. Followed by the worst nightmare a gifted can face. Beings stripped of their powers and sent to exile.”
Haide scoffs a laugh and all our heads yank toward her.
She just shrugs, rolling her wrist as if telling my dear brother to continue.
Little fucking brat.
“With that said, we have come to a decision, and that is, as of this day, Rathe University will reopen once more.”
The voices sharpen and rise, men jump to their feet and woman rage from their seats.
The courtyard echoes as people push toward the barriers and against our warriors, who manage to hold them back.
I can understand their response, and this reaction is exactly what we expected.
