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“I understand, brother,” I whispered, plodding along behind him as my stomach churned.
Managing to keep my emotions at bay, the loss still dug deep into my chest. Julian—the same brother who tended to me when I broke my arm falling from a tree, the one who played with me when our parents were busy with the council, the one who would pick family over his friends at the drop of a hat—was now lost to me.
He felt different. He felt evil. I knew it in my soul—this wasn’t the first life he would take, and if I didn’t stop him, it wouldn’t be the last.
We made it to the edge of the cliff and phased in an instant—Julian much faster than I—spread our wings and soared from the precipice, the wind roaring in our ears and kissing our cheeks.
The freedom I desired never came.
I felt worse than numb—I was dead inside.
Because my brother had to be stopped—he had to. Julian didn’t care that he was blithely running off to kill someone. It didn’t matter if it was a woman, and he didn’t even have the decency to ask why.
He honestly didn’t care.
Our destination was remote: a modest log cabin no more than fifty miles north. We landed in the thick of the forest a few miles from the house and waited for the full cover of night.
I wanted to hug him—to reminisce about the good times—but I didn’t. If I did, I wouldn’t follow through.
When the moon finally made her appearance, Julian stood, marching at a quick clip in the direction of the cabin. He didn’t even make it to the trees before a large man formed—seemingly from the darkness—right in his path.
The stranger was tall with midnight hair pulled away from his face in a leather thong. His features seemed worse than deadly, which at that point, was not the best feeling in the world.
He looked past my shocked brother and asked, “You Rhys?”
“Yes. This is Julian, my brother. He plans to kill your queen,” I confessed on a whisper, but I had no doubt they heard me.
Julian shifted to face me, betrayal stamped all over his features.
“We are not made to kill innocents, brother,” I murmured, my voice laced with the apology I could never give. “I can’t let you murder someone.”
I couldn’t give it because I wasn’t sorry. My only regret was losing the very last person I could call family.
“You can choose,” the man I knew only as West offered Julian. “Leave with your brother or die here with me. Either way, you aren’t getting past me, child. I’ll let you go, but if you take another step toward that house, I’ll kill you before you can take another breath.”
My brother didn’t hesitate, moving like a lightning strike toward West, but the wraith was faster. Julian’s neck was snapped in an instant, his inert body falling to the dirt.
“That way won’t kill us, you know,” I croaked. I tried to keep the sorrow from my voice, but I was unsuccessful. “He’ll come back.”
“Oh, I know,” West muttered gently, the compassion in his voice more than I could take. “I just didn’t plan on killing your brother in front of you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, unable to bring my voice any louder.
“You’re doing the right thing, and as soon as you name it, you may call on any favor from the king,” West promised, giving me a slight bow of his head before grabbing my brother’s hand and disappearing in a swath of black smoke.
I had a feeling I’d be needing that favor very soon.
I had no plans to go back to my Legion, no plans to see Aurelia’s face again—to ever be bound to her.
But my life had been one wrong turn after another. Leaving everything and everyone I knew, I headed toward a secluded cabin in the Canadian Rockies I’d set up before my Selection.
After my parents’ death, I didn’t trust my Legion, Iva, or my species. I wanted to, sure, but I couldn’t—not when my inquiries were met with a bunch of “I don’t knows” and “Quit asking questions”—none of which inspired much confidence in a man. So, I did the only thing I knew to do and made a plan—trusting that if I waited and played the long game, I would be fine.
Turned out, I was an idiot.
When daylight crested, I was still in the Oregon territory, my travel hindered by poor night vision and the cold, autumn air. I was tired, and I figured that was the only reason they caught me. Well, that and because I was an absolute moron. Let’s not forget that little fact.
Honestly, how much of a fool could I have been? Had I really thought an oracle of the highest order—who would demand the death of an innocent—wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the man who was too stupid to stop asking questions?
