The light is minimal. The dying fire and several candles cast flickering shadows over the walls. My parents are standing by the fireplace, their grim gazes fixed on Able. Several guards are scattered about the perimeter, but three of them hold Able down on the bed.
It’s hard to process what I’m seeing. Able is always calculated, conniving,and calm in an unnerving way that lets you know he’s in control at all times. He’s unrecognizable with the look of horrified panic on his face.
His nightshirt is practically shredded from his flailing hands, his dark hair is matted with sweat, and his deep purple eyes are wide with hysterical terror.
“There’s Drained in the walls. Drained on the stairs. They’re coming for us.” His wild eyes dart to my father. “You!” he growls. “You’re their leader. They’re waiting for your command.”
He bucks against the guards holding him down as my mother and father look on. His aura is flared wide—its blue, pulsing light illuminating the whole room.
“They’re coming for us,” Able shouts. “The halls are full of them. They’re right here.” His eyes widen at the guard pinning his left arm. “You’re one of them!” He takes a wild swing, nearly connecting, but the guard ducks out of the way at the last second.
“Dose him, Divine dammit,” my father says solemnly. “He’ll be better in the morning.”
I recognize the man on Able’s right as his bodyguard, Nick. He’s talking to Able in a steady, calm voice, but Able keeps thrashing. A healer stumbles forward.
On the other side of the room, my sister-in-law Sierra sobs quietly in the corner. Her golden hair is somehow still perfectly twisted into a curling wrap, but the skin around her neck is bruised with Able’s fingerprints.
Anger sparks to life in my chest. Here I am, out hunting violent men, while living under the same roof with my brother, who is hurting his wife.
I shift and finally my mother notices my presence.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she says.
I glance at Sierra meaningfully.
“He doesn’t mean it,” my mother says. “He’s trapped in a nightmare. We’ve told Sierra not to sleep in here, but she doesn’t listen.”
The healer shoves a syringe into Able’s arm. His squirming and shouting slow immediately, and his muscles go slack.
“It’s a sedative,” my father says, clearly for my benefit alone since everyone else in the room seems to be used to this. “It’s to help himsleep.” He stands a little straighter. “An heir carries a heavy burden and these kind of nightmares aren’t unusual.”
I know that tone. It’s the one he uses to placate our people. This is a performance, but not one I need to be involved in.
My father glances at the guards. “Leave us.”
The men file out in a rush.
Sierra hovers beside the bed, sniffling. She places a hand on Able’s forehead.
“Leave us,” my father repeats.
She hugs her robe around her body and is ushered out of the room by Gaven. He passes her off to a guard in the hallway, closes the door behind her, and turns to face us.
So Gaven also knows about this. I guess I’m not the only one keeping secrets.
I turn my expectant gaze on my father.
“We believe Able is going mad.” He says it so calmly—like he’s talking about what he ate for dinner and not his son and heir’s sanity.
My mouth goes dry. “Excuse me?”
He frowns as if eternally disappointed that I don’t understand this abrupt news. “You heard me. He’s going mad.”
It’s not an isolated incident—I’d gathered that from the practiced choreography of the guards and the way they were ready with a sedative. I can’t imagine how I have never witnessed this before.
Except I can. I spend several nights a week out hunting.
“Why? How? For how long?” My voice sounds muffled in my ears, like I’m underwater.
