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“Where are her parents?” Brax grunts, and Fitch rolls his eyes, distaste wafting from him.
“They’re waiting in Erikel’s office,” he bites back, clearly not wanting to offer us any kind of insight.
Asshole.
“Why?” I push, refusing to relent.
“Because.”
“Because, what?” I grind out, nostrils flaring.
“I. Don’t. Know. But I’m sure you’ll find out once we’re there,” he grinds, hands clenching at his sides.
It’s no secret that Professor Fitch can be an epic ass, but this isn’t his usual approach with me or the tone he uses. It either leads back to Erikel or Leila. Thinking of the latter, I redirect my questions. He’s going to lead me to my impending doom whether I like it or not, so I may as well try to get what I can out of it.
“Where’s Leila?”
His steps falter a little as he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “My daughter’s whereabouts are not of your concern.”
“Your daughter is my friend. I think we can both agree that the academy isn’t the safest place to be at the moment, and her welfare is important to me.” I want to add that I know he’s a scheming asshole. With or without Erikel’s magic putting him under his command, there’s more to this man than meets the eye.
He stops suddenly, forcing us to do the same as he glares at me. “My daughter has been made more than aware that she needs to avoid falling under your spell at all costs, Miss Hendrix.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“What have you done to her?” Every word vibrates in my chest as I stare deep into his storming eyes.
His chest rises and falls harshly with every breath he takes, glaring down at me like the lowly peasant from Shadowmoor I am. He parts his lips, fire raging in his eyes, ready to attempt to put me in my place, but he’s interrupted by the door beside us swinging open.
“Raven, honey.”
I freeze. I would know that voice anywhere. But how?
Turning slowly, my eyes widen when I find my father standing in the open doorway. I glance around him, startled that we are, in fact, outside of Erikel’s office, or Burton’s old office, whichever way we look at it.
The usual navy Monarchy-issued attire fits my father as perfectly as ever. Polished brown shoes don his feet and his peppered hair is swept back off his face. His eyes glisten, his smile reaching wide across his face.
“It’s been too long. Come.”
I peer up at Brax for a moment, trying to get his read on the man before us, but he gives nothing away, waiting for me to take the lead. I glare at Fitch before I step through the doorway, my back stiffening when the door closes behind us with a hard thud.
My father takes a seat on the long brown leather sofa and I take a tentative seat in the chair across from him. Brax sits beside me, dragging the chair closer to me, refusing to let go of my hand as my father leans forward, bracing his arms on his knees.
Clearing my throat, I falter under his intense stare. “Where’s Mama?”
He waves his hand, smiling even wider as he maintains eye contact.
I’m certain with all that I am that it’s Erikel beneath the façade. It’s a good one, I’ll give him that, but as much as he can look every inch of the man my father is, the mannerisms are off. Especially his attempt at using a term of endearment with me. My father has never called me honey a day in my life.
“We can talk without her for once, can’t we?” he muses, making my muscles bunch even more. We’ve talked a lot without my mother’s presence these past few months. It’s the whole reason I’m here.
I rub my lips together, unsure how to proceed. I can’t reveal the fact that I know it’s not my father, that it is, in fact, Erikel, because it’s too soon to expose him yet. A part of me also wants to know what he thinks he’s going to achieve with this little meeting.
Squeezing Brax’s hand, I steel my spine and take a seat across from the imposter before me. Brax is reluctant to release my hand, but he eventually does, dropping into the spot beside me.
“We don’t need an audience,” my father says, peering at Brax, who grunts in response as he nestles further into his seat, ignoring the dismissal.
“He stays. You know he always waits with me,” I offer, forcing a smile to my lips as my father nods, but the distaste remains. Definitely not my father. He’s met Brax once before, and it wasn’t in this kind of setting. “What brings you here without Mama?” I ask, crossing my legs as I assess him.
