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“My owl.” I frowned. It was too much of a coincidence. Or was it?
Slowly, I turned around in Demos’ lap and looked at him. “If you’re brothers. And you’re not human…”
Demos cupped my face. “That was me, yes.”
Phobius cleared his throat. “Hate to break up this lover’s moment, but the rabbit is burning.”
Demos hastily got up, removing me from his lap. Phobius resumed the conversation once again.
“Once upon a time, King Gregoras was on his way to the Ongahri’s gathering called the Consortium. While passing through a town, his eye was caught by a pretty little omega who was selling flowers on the side of the road. The king stopped and purchased some, and after a long lingering look at her, he and his retinue marched off. But that night, the king slunk away back into that village, found the girl and raped her.”
I gasped, my hand coming to my mouth. “Oh, Gods. Lucius’ mother.”
“Indeed.”
“How do you know this?”
“He told me, bragged about it the next morning.”
“But… he was married!”
He gave me a droll look. “By the Wind, are you really that innocent? Where you’re from, men are that faithful? Truly?”
I felt myself blush at being made fun of. “I only mean that, well, Fadon’s nothing like that. Neither is Ander or Mari. And I just figured…” Just because he was king didn’t make him a saint, I thought. “Anyway, go on.”
“At the time, I was a visiting advisor, temporary. He had no memory of when I’d married him and his wife a century prior. In those days a Servant was always an advisor to the Ongahri royals. Gregoras was a braggart. I simply took note of certain things, watching and learning. Waiting. Something told me to keep track of this omega over the years. When she died, I found Lucius living with distant relatives, malnourished and neglected. He was a spitfire, even then.” Phobius seemed to find the memory a good one, because for the first time, a genuine smile lifted his mouth, transforming him from handsome to breathtakingly beautiful.
“Through the years, I watched still, and only when the king was on his deathbed did I tell him about the boy. Gregoras begged me to keep the boy’s identity and his part in his creation a secret. His wife had been dead for quite some time, and Mari had already been prepped to take the crown. Had Lucius’s existence been exposed then all of House Trajan would be threatened. A king from outside the fold? Never going to happen. And so I kept it to myself. Only when he was older did I introduce myself to Lucius, the Heir to the Trajan crown.”
“Does he know you know?” I nodded my thanks at Demos, who handed us our meal of rabbit served on skewers of sturdy twigs.
“No. He has no idea I know.”
I became silent as I thought over everything he’d revealed.
Beside me, Demos looked tense. “And is that information something you’re going to pull out of a hat at some point, Phobius?” Demos was angry, and I couldn’t blame him. Phobius seemed stuffed to the brim with secrets. He would have made a fine elemental or Sapera, I thought dryly.
“If things don’t go the way we need them to, I most certainly will.”
I shook my head. “Don’t. Mari is a good queen. Revealing Lucius’ true identity would serve no purpose.”
“Again,” Phobius said snuggly. “If it—”
I waved a hand at him. “What is the end result here? What is this all ultimately about and why me? What do I have to do with this? Seems to me, if the elementals wanted something done, they’d have the power and more to see to it themselves.”
“Because, my dear, there is another force involved, one from your darkest nightmares. Literally, if I read you right. You’ve seen him. And once we’re done eating, you’ll see him again.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Demos said for the fifth time as we sat around the fire. Demos had taken off his cloak and tunic, leaving him bare chested next to me. He hadn’t let go of my hand since after we’d finished eating. His aura had a certain desperation to it that scared me. Demos never showed fear in my presence, so much so that sometimes I questioned whether he was even human.
Which of course, I knew now he kind of wasn’t.
I didn’t know what to think about all they’d told me. A big part of me just kept brushing these unbelievable facts away to think on for later—or never—and just focus on the moment, because gods knew, each moment after I’d woken up an hour or so ago was one revelation after another.
Men who were not human, who could shift into birds, and who had been around long enough to be advisor to a king that had been born three hundred years ago.
And that horrible story about Lucius’ conception, his poor mother. I finally understood his hate, though. I would hate everything having to do with House Trajan, too, if I were him.
I focused back on the present with a shock when Phobius started undressing. Heat bloomed in my cheeks as I watched him disrobe. The strange yet beautiful markings on his chest were an exact replica of Demos’ markings, both in color and form.
