I followed Wild downstairs. When we entered the room, I saw Dagon leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, with murderous look on his face. Everyone else was seated at the table, with King at the head.
“Let’s begin.”
King didn’t even wait for us to sit. It was obvious he couldn’t wait to get this over with.You and me both, Dad.
“The stolen object belongs to you.” His gaze locked with mine. “I believe it’s in the possession of someone very dangerous, and you need to bring it back.”
“Me?” I yelped. What in the ever-loving hell? “What do you mean it belongs to me? And, how do you expect me to find it!?”
I was ready to unleash a full storm of curses, but the words died at the tip of my tongue when I saw the hardness in King’s eyes.
“You are the one meant to protect this object. And you’re the only one who can use it. You must find it.”
What. The. Fuck.
Had our father completely lost his mind? Because it sure as hell sounded like it.
None of this made sense. And he was acting like a total bastard – barking orders, giving no real answers.
Dagon let out a sharp laugh. All eyes snapped to him. He looked like he was seconds away from losing it.
“Must?Must!?” he repeated the word like it was a joke. “Why the fuck should any of us agree to do this? You say it as a command, but we’re not your servants,angel.”
King’s nostrils flared, and he snapped, “I had no other choice!”
“Oh, so that’s why you're takingourchoice away?” In the blink of an eye, Dagon was in front of our father.
King stepped right into his space too. And for the first time... I was afraid of King. Wilder and Andras jumped to their feet, ready to step between them. Whose side they’d take was another matter entirely.
Even though Dagon had the strongest reaction to what was happening, I didn’t think he’d ever actually hit our father. Even with everything – King lying to us our whole lives, forcing us into something we didn’t understand, demanding obedience without answers – he was still our father. And I clung to the fragile, crumbling hope thatnothingcould change that.
“You’re all my sons,” King said, “and I’m sorry I got you involved in this. But there’s no turning back now.”
“Like hell I’ll have any part of your games,” Dagon shouted, but Andras pulled him back.
My heart was pounding, like it had entered some twisted competition called:"how fast can I jump out of your chest?"
“Why?” The word left my mouth before I could stop it.
All eyes turned to me.
“Why don’t we have a choice? There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Even as I tried to look calm, I failed. Even these words were hard to utter.
“You’re bound to these objects,” King said.
“What?” We all said it in perfect, horrified unison.
“You’re bound to these objects. You’re their protectors. Their wielders, if it comes to it. Only you can use them. But if they remain in the wrong hands long enough, the bond may be overridden. Someone else might figure out how to use them.”
“Wrong hands, as in?” Dagon was the first to ask.
“Demons.”
My father’s eyes swept over the rest of us, but mine landed on Dagon. His jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. He was barely holding back. It was like watching a caged beast being poked deliberately.
Bren spoke up, asking, “Demons? Oh, is Lucifer real? What about vampires, werewolves, dragons, and unicorns? I always wanted to bang a demon. Bet it would be a wild ride.”
