Page 177 of The Edge of Darkness

I nodded.

His sigh was long, and he took an equally-lengthy gulp of ale before answering. “The fae take the mating bond very seriously. Once you make a commitment to someone, it’s for life. Breaking that bond is the gravest of offenses. When my father broke his vow and lay with another female, it offended the court to its very core.”

“Forgive me, but surely the offense of a single fae couldn’t have meant that much to an entire court . . .”

He dipped his chin. “It did . . . considering he was the High Lord.”

His words landed with a weight I had not expected. If his father was a previous High Lord, who, or what, did that make him?

“Who . . .who are you? Are you related to Vanir?”

“Vanir is my father’s brother—my uncle.”

I blinked, not fully registering how close of a link the two shared.

“I was told my father would have been a favorite of the court if he’d kept to his vow and done his job as High Lord without all the bullshit in-between. But he tended to have a wandering eye, and one day, those very eyes fell upon a female he simply could not resist—The High Lord of Drastia’s mate.”

I gaped in shock, but he was quick to correct the conclusion I’d drawn. “Not Senna,” he said. “It was the mate of the High Lord before Laurent came to power. Her name was Freyden. Eventually, one thing led to another, and my father slept with her. I was the result. The scandal was made worse by the fact that my father’s actual mate had not been able to give birth in all the years they tried. He told his mate that he only did it so that they could have a successor, and that if she wanted to remain in favor of Vahrenhall’s court, she would need to make everyone believe I was hers. Needless to say, when he tried to pass me off as his son by his bonded mate, the court didn’t believe it for a damned minute. And she was too heartbroken by the entire thing to even try to stand up for him.

“He never told her who my birth mother was. The only person who knew, besides my father, was Vanir. And Vanir kept the secret. As time went on, my father’s bonded mate grew restless—as she had every right to be. With him refusing to tell her who the other female was, she started to suspect every female that came close to him, and got jealous when he would leave for trips to other courts.

“Apparently, the entire thing was a mess. It even got to the point where her suspicions began to cause everyone else to question other aspects of my father’s life. As it turned out, there were many lies he had told, and he’d made countless bargains with the wrong fae. When all of that unraveled, his council divided into two, and each side waged a political battle against the other until the corruption amongst them was exposed for all to see.

“His mate was finally driven mad enough by all the scandal and the skepticism that she poisoned herself, and him. Their deaths left the court in chaos, and Vanir—being the only living relation to my father—was crowned. I was just a youngling then. Vanir volunteered to take me in as his own and raise me, but the court forbade it. They saw me as nothing more than the product of betrayal and lies, and they didn’t want to put faith in someone who might grow up to be just like his father. So Vanir did the only thing he could do. He sent me away to Calledan—to a family friend who did her best to give me a home to grow up in.

“I was still close enough that Vanir would visit often. He taught me how to hunt, how to fight, and how to be a male worthy of respect. And when my power surfaced, he helped me shape it into what it is now.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “From what Vanir tells me, my power is a subtype of elemental magic—something I inherited from my mother. My father’s power was, ironically, influencing emotions. That in itself didn’t lend him any help in his predicament.”

He sighed and slumped back into the settee, meeting my eyes as if waiting for me to ridicule him or make some sort of jest at his lineage. When I didn’t immediately say anything, he opted for his own form of humor. “Just say it: I’m the product of one big shit show.”

I pushed out a breath and shook my head in disbelief. “Well, I don’t think it could get any more complicated than that.”

A grin surfaced, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “That’s why I can’t come back—why I haven’t fully integrated back into Vahrish society. Even if Vanir vouched for me, there are too many fae who are still alive who sat on my father’s council and who would oppose my rule. And gods forbid something ever happens to Vanir. He’s un-mated and without any heirs, and I’d have no ground to stand on even if I tried to assert my claim—which I have no desire to.”

I slowly nodded as I processed everything. “Niall said you turned down his offer to be his second.”

He gave a half-shrug, but the motion seemed laced with self-doubt. “Never been the type to excel with that type of responsibility.”

I raised a brow. “Yet you sit at the command of his armies.”

“A better-suited position, if I have to have one. When I was old enough to learn the truth that I was ‘exiled’ by my own court, I became a little . . . bitter. Well, bitter’s a gentle way of putting it. I channeled all my anger and frustration into fighting, and I volunteered for Calledan’s army. Fighting was the only thing that brought me peace. I felt like I didn’t have a purpose, and I needed to find one.

“I was good with a weapon, stronger than most every other male of my age, and I had nothing to lose. That’s where I met Niall. On my first day, at the front lines, I stood next to him and had no idea he was the High Lord’s son. The generals pitted us against each other that day for training, and it was like fate finally threw someone into my corner that understood.

“I was ruthless. I didn’t care who I aimed my rage at, but Niall recognized the front immediately. When I cracked his nose with my fist during a round of sparring, the fucker backhanded me. Backhanded me, Auren. Who the fuck does that?”

A laugh burst from my lips. The image materialized in my mind, and it was glorious.

“Yeah, thankfully, I can laugh about it now too, but in that moment, I wanted to kill him.”

“Thank the gods you didn’t,” I said, catching my breath.

“What sort of joke did you tell her to make her laugh like that?” Niall said, sweeping through the door and looking like a snack dressed in black.

“The one where I broke your nose and you backhanded me,” Roirdan replied.

“Oh, not a joke at all, then.” He grinned. “If I recall, the sound my hand made against your cheek echoed off the mountains.”

“Fuck off, it did not.”