“And that’s my cue.” Alexei shifted toward me. “Beautiful, General Ronen needs to speak with you before training.”
GeneralRonen?
“Training?”
We’d been back only three days, and Oliver had just woken up. I wasn’t training.
Alexei shrugged. “Our mission was unsanctioned, and the king wants us back in the sand pit.”
“Well, you can tell him?—”
“I’m not telling whichever him you’re talking about anything, beautiful. Not when my balls are chafing and my ass cheeks are about to pop. Plus, it wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order from your general.”
“I really hope his ass cheeks pop,” Oliver murmured.
Alexei turned and left.
“Oh, yes.” Oliver sighed in rapture.
Not because the leggings popped, but because they stretched even tighter over Alexei’s muscular butt, and the light hit him just right so he appeared practically naked.
I slumped back in my chair, shaking my head. Sure, I was grateful Alexei kept his word. A part of me was even a little grateful Ronen sensed my emotions and mentioned something to him to give Oliver some joy. But Ronen couldn’t expect me to train today.
Chapter
Seven
Lucille
Selfish. Disobedient. Avoidant. A pain in his ass. I didn’t care what he thought or called me; I wasn’t seeking Ronen out, and I wasn’t training. Instead, I marched through the red-carpeted halls with a permanent glare fixed on my face. The castle staff scurried out of my way, avoiding eye contact, which I was fine with. They barely acknowledged me anyway. Luckily, I had enough control to keep the whispering menace at bay, but damn was it hard. My Infernus wanted to come out. It thrived on the new tune in my emotions. Anger always fueled it, while grief seemed to deplete it.
He thought I’d train the day after my mother’s funeral? I didn’t know whichheI referred to. My father, who gave Ronen the orders, or Ronen for even thinking I’d comply.
Since I had already interrogated a castle maid coming out of my father’s rooms as to his whereabouts, I knew where he’d be, and I knew he’d most likely be alone.
My pace slowed as I drew closer to the greenhouse’s double doors. Frost patches usually peppered the black wrought-iron frame sparingly, etching decorative designs across the glass. I could always admire the icyflowers on the other side of the fern-like patterns. But that wasn’t the case today. Thick ice coated the entire surface, hiding the black frame, swallowing the twisted iron handles, and concealing the frozen flowers.
My father was here, alright.
The cold handle stung my hand as I pushed open one of the doors and stopped.
It was destroyed.
Every ice-coated, preserved flower lay scattered across the frozen ground in shards. Roses, hydrangeas, peonies—all the flowers my mother carefully cultivated—were ripped apart into a glaring, colorful mess.
The stinging cold from the door handle no longer registered. Neither did my shivers from the deadly chill.
“What have you done?” I breathed.
Lucifer sat on the heated bench, hunched over, clutching his head as he muttered to himself.
“The Eternal Forest is the way.” He shook his head. “Was the way. It was supposed to work. Why didn’t it work?”
Plant remains and ice dirtied his once nicely pressed gray suit. Red streaked through his white-blond hair, most likely from the blood dripping off his hands.
How could he? I had nothing left of hers. This was it. Right here!
I stepped further into the greenhouse, wincing as ice crunched beneath my feet. My father’s power crept along my skin, leaching blood from my extremities. It reminded me of the time in Elora when he invaded my mind, testing and pushing my limits. But this felt different.
