AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Isaiah was unsurprised at the divulgence. “I’ve heard the same.”
“Given Jaden’s thirst for power and penchant for cruelty, I can only imagine he’d target one of the five major clans.”
Each numbering over three hundred-Raeths-strong, the five major clans constituted the ruling powers of their world and held a peace treaty between them. That agreement meant that none of those five top tier clans—Isaiah’s included—would wage war against another. It allowed for stability above all things.
Governed individually by one sovereign, every Raeth clan was independent. Though they had no presiding government, very few went against the edicts of those clans whose overwhelming size could crush opposition with ease.
Recently, Isaiah and the balance of the ruling clans had signed the Immortal Accords, a treaty brokering peace throughout the supernatural communities. The majority of the smaller clans had followed suit—or planned to within the next few years.
“We shall see,” Isaiah replied, narrowing his eyes without fear. “None of us are neophytes in our positions.”
Jacob stopped walking abruptly, a warning in his dark sapphire eyes. “Regardless, be careful. Jaden is no youngling, and despite of the strength of your abilities, there is always the unknown of his.”
“Why the sudden concern?”
“I’ve nevernotbeen concerned for you, Isaiah.” Weariness infiltrated his former sovereign’s voice as they resumed their leisurely walk toward the township. “There are always uncertainties for a sovereign, no matter what strength lives within. You chose to walk this path, much as I chose mine. Once we challenge a sovereign and win, the responsibilities that fall on our shoulders never loosen. Our lives cease to be our own once we take up the baton, and never will be ours again.”
Isaiah’s eyebrows pinched together, his gut churning with indecipherable emotion. “That hints at remorse, my old friend.”
“Not remorse. Never that,” he sighed. “Come, son, let me make you some tea.”
Strolling through the streets of the seaside town, Isaiah nodded in good nature toward the familiar clansmen that lined the streets. More than one studied him with a too-keen eye, instantly arousing his wariness, but the glances were so fleeting that the feeling all but dissipated by the time they’d reached Jacob’s modest home.
The screen door of the seaside cottage slammed behind him, and Isaiah shadowed him into the cozy living quarters. He’d visited often in the last century. Jacob, a self-confessed historian of sorts, had never met a relic he didn’t cherish. Old treasures lined the built-in shelves from every era of human and Raeth history—enough art and knick-knacks to outfit a museum.
Above the mantle sat Jacob’s pride and joy, a shining, perfectly crafted six-inch dagger. Though Jacob had never revealed the maker of such a fine blade, Isaiah had always appreciated its simple beauty. More than once, he’d palmed the dagger and practiced his craft under Jacob’s indignant eye.
Isaiah smiled at the charming reminder of his former sovereign’s character.
Taking a seat across from him in the worn leather of a chocolate brown armchair, Isaiah felt his guard relax. Here, in the comfortable confines of Jacob’s home, he could afford to do so. Even amid the familiar space of his home turf, his own territory, Isaiah could never truly rest.
In Utah, his people depended upon him for security and strength. He was the first level of defense, the one who would run toward the fire instead of fleeing. As their sovereign, Isaiah was their shield, their protector. He’d willingly taken on the burden of that duty, and it called for nothing less than absolute diligence.
But here, he could simplybe. The knots uncoiled in his gut; the weight of his responsibility loosened its chokehold. For once, Isaiah exhaled deeply and let the tension fall from his shoulders before he met the eyes of his former mentor.
Across from him, the deep azure of Jacob’s gaze pierced into his with unflinching scrutiny.
Frowning, Isaiah recoiled slightly at the intensity of it. “Why do you study me as if to weigh my merit?”
A smile broke Jacob’s features before he dropped eye contact and shook his head. “You have my apologies, Isaiah.” But he didn’t explain why. Moments later, Jacob frowned as a chime sounded on his phone, followed by a scoff from his throat. “This portable communication device vexes me.”
“Why do you need one?”
Telepathy solved the majority of their communication problems effortlessly, and Raeths seldom used technology when it could be avoided.
“Something to do with my banking affairs.” Jacob threw his hands up dismissively. “It’ll be over with soon.”
Raising an eyebrow but saying nothing, Isaiah reclined further into the worn leather while Jacob muddled through whatever was necessary on his phone. Minutes later, it seemed that he’d finished his affairs.
“I was promised tea.”
A hearty laugh and Jacob shot a glance toward the kitchen. Seconds later, Isaiah heard the pot of water being filled and transitioned to the stove.
Telekinesis had its advantages.
Jacob had resumed his unblinking stare by the time Isaiah refocused on him, and all at once, he couldn’t ignore the unknown undercurrent in the room. He raised an ebony eyebrow in jest.
“What is it that you’re not saying, Jacob?”
