Page 59 of Beast

“Son, I will say, I never expected that you would find aconsort so quickly,” my dad says, a smile on his face. He’s a familiar figurein an expensive suit and worn boots. “You always were the smartest kid I knew.”

I think about Kaja, asleep in my room. She’s cuddled up inmy big bed where no woman ever slept before. I always take them to hotels or goto their places. My wife is asleep in my bed—our bed. And I want to be next toher, watching her breathe. She looks right in our bed.

I nearly killed her.

Damn. I know it’s a bit overdramatic. I know she’sgoing to be okay, but I didn’t really calm down until we made it to my cousins’village and their old nanny, Flanna, pronounced Kaja perfectly fine, merelytired from blood loss. She’s slept for almost twenty-four hours, but shebriefly opened her eyes and responded with the sweetest smile before sinkingback into healing sleep. I carried her all day, placing her across my lap whenI got my bike back, and took us home. She cuddled against me the whole way here.

“Dante? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

I turn to my father. “Sorry, I was thinking about somethingelse.”

Dad grins, a knowing look. “You were thinking about her,weren’t you?”

It seems foolish to try to hide it. “Yes.”

I’m always thinking about her these days. Kaja is becomingan obsession.

My father comes and stands beside me. We stare out over thecity. From Don Dellacourt’s office, Dallas spreads out like a sea of buildingsresting on clouds. From this far up, I can’t even see the ground. I ratherthink that’s the way my father likes it. Dad worked his way up from a ranch inWest Texas, an impoverished royal, all the way to the heights of society. Ididn’t see the ground as a small child unless I was being taken by hovercar tothe door that led to the Seelie plane. That door is guarded now, and no one hasbeen through it in years beyond the occasional political emissary.

“It’s only right, son,” my father is saying as he puts anarm around my shoulder. “She’s your consort. I can’t wait to welcome her intoour family. The housekeeper said something was wrong with her.”

“She lost a lot of blood.”

“She’s hurt? What happened to her?”

“I did,” I reply. There’s on odd mixture of guilt and pridethat comes with the memory, as though the two pieces of my soul are at oddsover the incident. “I was the one who was injured. Kaja healed me.”

My father’s arm drops. “Why? What the hell happened? Did youget in a fight? Was it a tourney?”

I hold my hands up, waving off the worry. If I don’t stop myfather, there will be doctors all over the place. “I’m fine. Kaja’s fine. Wegot attacked in the marketplace, that’s all. Torin is finally making his move.I guess the asshole realized Beck and Ci aren’t going to conveniently die.”

Dad’s gone a little pale. “Torin attacked the marketplace?”

“He sent mercenaries to attack the Refugee plane, as far asI can tell. Some asshole impoverished royals have formed their own army, andthey are all about letting trade flow.”

There’s a tight set to my father’s eyes that tells me hedoesn’t like this subject. “They want consorts. It’s all the government cantalk about these days. There are so few to be had. There’s an entire generationof royals who can’t find consorts. They’re aging, and they don’t like it. Youhave to understand, Dante. A royal is brought up to believe that finding aconsort is his or her right. We live longer with a consort. Without a consort,we might as well be peasants.”

It's a hard truth to swallow, but I know my father is onlylaying it on the line. “Now that Beck and Cian have come into their powers,maybe things can change.”

The look on my dad’s face is grim. “I don’t know. I think itmight be too late.”

I don’t like the sound of that. I turn and look my fatherstraight in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that when your cousins come to visit next week, I’mgoing to try to convince them to run.”

“What are you talking about?” I don’t even understand thewords coming out of his mouth. “Where the hell would they go? Torin decimatedtheir village.” It had been a terrible thing. Beck and Cian had built thevillage up over the years, and it had taken a single afternoon and somewell-placed sonic charges to bring it all down. He’d mourned with his cousinsthe loss of their home.

“I think it’s time they went to the Earth plane, son,” myfather admits.

The words hit like a grenade threatening to explode. “Whythe hell would they go to some backwater plane that isn’t connected to anywhereelse?”

There are a few doors to the Earth plane scattered around,but they’re very difficult to access, and few brave them. The Earth plane isalmost entirely cut off. In my mind, if my cousins flee to the Earth plane,it’s an admission of defeat.

“Because the tide is turning,” Dad says with deepresignation. “If our government decides to recognize Torin’s claim to thethrone, they have to acknowledge that Beckett and Cian are renegades. Thosemercenaries who are after them now, they’ll be joined by every soldier on everyplane who hears the news.”

My stomach turns. How is this happening? “Beck and Ci won’tgo.”

They’ll stay and fight. They won’t leave their peoplebehind.