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“No. I gave him a pass for throwing me and my mate in the Aboa, but for waking Heliai, there can be no forgiveness. My people would never accept it.”
“Then we go in hot, and deal with whatever we find when we find it.”
I agreed, and we entered the town.
The fae outside gaped at us as we strode in together.
We paid no attention to their stares, and headed for the house where I could now feel my brother.
We paused outside the house, just for a minute.
“Let me take my brother,” I said, with my water.
“Want me to bind him?” Quake asked me.
“No. He needs to know exactly who’s killing him, and exactly why he’s dying. You can take Locha.”
“I see how it is. Give me the woman,” he grumbled. “Make me the bad guy.”
I chuckled. “There won’t be a fight, and you won’t have to kill her.”
That went without saying. They were fully mated, meaning their lives were tied together.
“It’ll be more fun if we give them a chance to fight back when we go in,” Quake said. “We could drag it out a little.”
“It’ll be more fun if I don’t have to carry your wounded ass back to your mate.”
He laughed. “Fine.”
We both tapped into our magic, and focused on the couple. My water wrapped around my brother, and Quake’s earth engulfed Locha.
We walked in, not bothering with dramatics or excitement. We weren’t there for glory—we’d gotten plenty of that when we destroyed the great evil, and it turned us insane. I’d be more than content with a long, glory-free life at my mate’s side. Hell, I’d give up my throne for it if I thought it’d be better for the kingdom.
Both my brother and his mate were glowering at us when we walked in. I could feel Crest’s water warring against mine, and he was fairly strong. But compared to my magic’s ocean, his was only a pond.
I had envied him for that, for a long, long time. But if he’d gotten the magic I had, I would’ve been dead centuries earlier, at his hand.
“Were you tired of living?” I signed to him.
He continued glaring at me. Despite our blood relation, he’d chosen to take a stand against me by refusing to learn sign language when I lost my hearing to my magic as a child. My father had done the same, and my mother only bothered learning a few signs.
But that was so damn long ago.
“Just kill me already,” Crest spat at me. “We both know the kingdom will end you if you don’t end me. The Aboa is toosacred.”
I tilted my head slightly, watching him, and signed one word I thought there was a possibility he would understand.
“Why?”
I already knew the answer, though it wasn’t a simple one.
Anger.
Jealousy.
Hatred.
It was ironic, really, that he had wished so hard to be me. Throughout most of my life, I would’ve been thrilled to trade him my magic for the relationship he’d found with his mate. They were both shitty people, but they loved each other intensely.
