Page 204 of Infernal Secrets

It almost surprised me that Father continued to feign concern for us, even with his senior advisor. His only interest lay in what we could offer him. I doubted the man was capable of genuine love.

“We must make an example of her,” he declared, volume rising with every word. “Punish her for daring to go against our people—their royal family.”

He displayed a penchant for theatrics whenever he embodied Elyrdin’s powerful leader. It wasn’t difficult to picture him pacing and gesturing broadly as he delivered his speech.

“Someone helped her summon them,” he continued. “I’m sure of it. It is imperative that we send a message. We will uncover those who assisted her in these treasonous actions, and they will meet their end. If we don’t, our people will question our leadership. Is that something you wish for, Ranthus?”

“No, Master.”

“Of course not. If our people revolt, the council falls, and the cushy life you know ceases.” He snorted in derision. “I won’t accept such a fate. From this point forward, you will attend to her needs exclusively until the execution. If someone in the palace helped her summon the princes, I can’t risk them aiding her escape from Cholian. She can’t get near my son or the other princes again.”

I pressed myself deeper into the alcove as footsteps neared the doorway.

I didn’t trust my shadows to conceal me while I was this unstable.

They wouldn’t hesitate to attack Father, reacting to my contempt for him.

“I will continue to get whatever information I can from her, but she doesn’t trust me,” Ranthus said, exiting into the hall.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Come tomorrow, we’ll be rid of her and can move forward with finding her accomplice.” Father stopped mere feet from me. “My son will follow my rule, Ranthus. I trust you agree that protecting his mind from corruption is paramount.”

“Of course, Master.”

Father put his hand on Ranthus’s shoulder. “Then I trust you will help me eliminate all obstacles, even if that means his destined Nyrith.”

My body tensed when Ranthus’s eyes widened at Father’s words.

Father’s willingness to eliminate my mate if she threatened my planned future shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

Until now, I’d believed he’d try to control my mate like he did my brothers and me, but facing the reality… it seemed foolish to believe he possessed even a modicum of morality, or that something as sacred as Fate’s gift would ever be safe from his hunger for power.

Although I struggled to accept the human as my mate, I understood now that Father would approach the situation with nothing but enmity. His desire to mold me into the perfect puppet far outweighed reason.

Entering the house, I found my brothers sprawled across the three-sided sofa in the center of our living room.

Ash turned off the massive flat screen on the wall and looked at me. “How’d it go with your mom?”

I pulled off my ankle boots, setting them by the entrance before stepping down into the conversation pit. “Not as uncomfortable as I expected. She wanted to know about the human.”

“Raelynn,” Zeke mumbled from the corner of the sofa, buried in throw pillows and a blanket. He’d gotten worse, but refused to visit the palace infirmary.

Cyn had attempted to persuade him to go, but when Zeke insisted he come too, Cyn dropped it.

Cyn despised physical evaluations, allowing touch only if it served his interests. Our accelerated healing let us overlook his aversion before now, but like the rest of us, his condition had declined steadily since we returned from Earth.

“Right. Raelynn.” I’d said her name before, but now that we were home, I refused to speak—or even think—it. I opted to ignore the possible explanations and sank into the cushion across from Cyn and Zeke.

“What did she want to know?” Ash propped his elbow on the pillows beside him, watching me. I knew he saw the dark circles under my eyes and the sheen of sweat on my skin.

“She thought there might have been more information to share.”

Ash nodded. “Did you tell her about our visit?”

He understood as well as I did that Mother expected omissions from our report. No one told Father everything.

I shook my head. “I told her there wasn’t anything else to tell. What happened on Earth isn’t relevant anymore.”

Before we stood before the council, Father had us write a report, so there wasn’t much left to say.