Page 13 of Breaking Briar

“Kendrick,” I growl, stalking forward.

The king spits at me, just barely missing my leg. Rage like nothing I’ve known before races through me until my blood is molten in my veins. My vision wavers a touch as heat shimmers before me.

“How dare you do this to me, my family, my kingdom?” My voice floods the space, taking on a hardened edge I hardly recognize. “What possible excuse can you muster for taking the lives of so many innocent people?”

“Abomination,” he shrieks, thrashing in the arms of my guards.

At his word, exhaustion overtakes me. Abomination. I’ve heard that word far too often today for my liking. As a king, Kendrick should receive an execution befitting him, but I can’t find it in me to give him such courtesy, especially since he’s shown my family none.

“Where is my mother, my f-” I’m almost unable to get the word out. “Father,” I manage to say.

Knowing my true father lies burning mere feet from me, it feels surreal to speak of the weakling who allowed this kingdom to fall.

“Your mother screamed your name as she was raped by every soldier in my battalion. To birth such a monster as you, it was only fitting we show her what good, wholesome seed is like. Too bad she died before even half of them had their way with her. It made her far more pliant and quiet, though.”

My vision blanks as red swarms my eyes. I cannot see. I cannot hear. I cannot feel. To do so would be far too overwhelming. A loud roar floods my brain, erasing everything from the inside out.

Loud shouts try to penetrate, but they never do. I cannot understand what’s being said. Their voices sound as if they are at a great distance, and nothing will ever bridge the gap. Deep inside, something writhes about, wriggling in my gut as if it’s a living thing.

It whispers to me, begging to be released. But I don’t dare. I cannot let this thing loose. To do so would be the end of me. Deep down, I know it.

Murderous rage bubbles up like a witch’s cauldron. Anger at Kendrick, anger at the king who claimed to be my father, and anger at myself swirl until it’s a mass of fury that will not be tamped down. Fingers snag at my arms, cutting into me as my armor gives way. The sound becomes louder, a shrieking demon who will never be silenced. And that’s when I see her.

In my mind’s eye, Briar ambles up to me, a clumsy eight-year-old with doe-like eyes and an insatiable wonder. Please, she whispers in my brain, her words an icy balm against the infernal heat. Please play with me. Come find me, Philip.

It’s as if I never left those ten years ago. I’m right back in the castle, reaching out to her as she drifts off through the corridors. I found her then, and I will find her now. Her soft giggle soothes the ragged edges of my sanity, as if she can pacify the beast raging inside.

Childlike wonder fills her eyes as she dances away, just out of reach, heading to my secret place. I want to scream, to cry after her. If the witch is there, I cannot protect her, but it’s too late. She disappears before I can even get a word out.

I follow after, stopping short as I see her in the middle of the room. She motions to me, silently asking me to kneel before her. Dumbstruck, I do as she asks, coming down to her eye level. With another giggle, she kisses my forehead, sending a rush of cold through me.

There now, Philip. All better.

As if a spell has been lifted, my eyes regain their sight. All around me, my men stare at me, their jaws agape. Wetness coats my fingers and drips to the ground. In horror, I bring up my hands, noting the incriminating vermillion. What have I done?

On the ground, in front of me, the former king of Kendrick lies in pieces. As if an animal has torn it to shreds. Me. I am the animal. There’s no other explanation. My gut churns as I stare at the carnage in front of me, but instead of being sickened, I feel immense satisfaction.

“Find my mother’s body. Prepare her for the crypts.”

Next to me, the head guard shuffles over, his head bowed low. “And the king, Your Majesty?”

“Let the dogs eat the scraps. That's all he’s good for now.”

He clears his throat, stifling a bite of laughter. “Not that pig, Your Majesty. Your father.”

I resist the urge to sneer as I motion him to leave. “Prepare him as well. If you can find him. I have no doubt Kendrick did something just as unholy to his body.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” This time, he bangs his fist against his chest. One by one, all the others do the same until a thundering roar fills the courtyard. “The savage king!” he cries out, pumping his hand into the air.

The others join in until the sounds merge as one. Savage king. As foreign as it sounds, it feels so right. Taking my leave, I make my way through the castle, needing to find the chest my true father left for me. I need answers before anything else.

* * *

Bits and pieces of information slam into my brain until it’s so overloaded I can barely think. Letters lay scattered about from the year I was born until a few days ago. They paint a vivid picture—one of love, beauty, and savage hatred. My mother loved Master Balcom with everything in her.

Even though she knew he was a dragon shifter, one of the last of his lineage, she loved as if he were her own husband. My father knew nothing about their union, though that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Seems as if no one knew. No one but the evil witch.

As the letters continue, they take a darker turn. They speak of the lies and deceit, the anger and rage stirred up by Briar and her father. If her mother took any part, the letters do not say. As I suspected, they came to the castle to prepare for the celebration of my return, but no happiness came with them.