“My father has nothing to do with this!”
I don’t know what’s gotten into him, or what’s gotten into me either. This conversation is over though.
“I think we’ve lost enough noctis for one night. Don’t you? Or would you feel differently if next time it was your father they slaughtered? Perhaps your sister?”
Finally, Caz’s jaw clamps tight, the muscles pulled so taut that, even in the dim glow of the moonlight I can see where his fangs poke at the bottom of his lip.
I start to march back to camp to check on the progress, but his voice, edged and strained, startles me.
“What about Harland?”
“What about him?”
“The girl killed his brothers, Malachi. After everything he’s been through, he’ll do anything to claim the vengeance he’s owed.”
“After everythinghe’sbeen through?” I bellow, unable to stop myself.
My chest is heaving, a heavy weight pressing down on it as I recall the first terrible moment I laid eyes on Harland.
Every scar that’s etched into his skin is only a fraction of a representation of the pain that he’s inflicted upon me and others over the years. Harland might’ve lost an eye and a hand during the raids, but that’s nothing compared to the life he took from me.
My father spent years searching for his possible bastard children, but most of the mother’s had their babes butchered the moment they’d discovered their thirst for blood.
Mine had cherished me too much to bring herself to do it though.
For years, she kept me and my true nature hidden. She’d made a deal with the butcher so that we had constant access to the blood of the animals he slaughtered. She kept my Devonshire lineage hidden by rubbing berries and plant roots into my hair every day.
Despite her profound efforts, however, eventually we were found.
By none other than Harland.
Before the raids began, I had a family. One far more loving and tender than anything my father had tried building with me at Neveridge. I had a mother. A half-brother. I even had a first love—as best as youth are capable of such a thing.
Of course, it was the girl who betrayed me. It was the love of my life who led Harland to me and my family.
Annabel had been her name, not that she had it for much longer because Harland did exactly as Caz is suggesting now. He used her to get exactly what he wanted, and then once her life no longer held any more meaning to him, he killed her. Right in front of me. Then he killed every other person in Drayfil Shore, sparing me only because he had instructions to retrieve me for King Tor.
And Caz knows all of it.
He had been too young to participate in the raids, but he’d been at the castle awaiting Harland’s and his father’s return. He’d been there when I arrived. He’d been there for me when we were just two small children struggling to discover who we’d become.
Caz knows better to sympathize with Harland in my presence. And he’s remembering it too.
In a sheepish gesture, one of his hands reaches for the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I hold up my hand, my voice calm but tight enough to restrict my breathing. “I know. It’s…it’s fine. Let’s just—we should catch up with the others.”
Almost too keenly, he nods.
To keep my mind from returning to that dreadful day, I think about what’s next.
“Have your father send word to mine—” Davorin is, after all, the only one among us with a permanent blood oath with the king— “Get him to pass on that we were delayed but we’ll be arriving shortly. Don’t tell him about our gathering efforts. I want it to be a pleasant surprise when we arrive with triple the number of humans as any other search party.”
“Consider it done.”
12
BEHIND BARS
