“They taught me to kill, and I’m damn good at it. Faolán will die by my hand. He killed the humans who protected me,” I said, taking another step back as he stepped closer. He was trying to corner me against the wall; stupid move. “I wouldn’t do that,” I said as he pushed me further, testing just how far he could push me.
“Let’s see what you got,” he whispered, but it wasn’t out loud. It was inside my head.
I lit up my brands and waited for his face to register disgust as the Light King’s had, but, instead, he smiled wider.
“Glow bug; I like it,” Cameron said with a smirk.
“You have my brands,” my father said, lowering his eyes to my shoulders. “Someone tried to change you, though. Why?”
“I was being trained by the Guild when I got them. They enhance Dark Arts, or the magic which it is cast with. The Dark Heir has the same ones as I do.”
“How did you claim the young Dark Heir? It’s impossible to pull an heir to you unless you are an heir of equal powers; let alone claim him, if he is the true heir.”
“And yet, I managed both. I also could glamour on clothing as early as I can remember.” His eyes didn’t flinch, but, inside, he was adding it up. I was his heir. The one he was to hand over to the Horde King.
“That can’t be. Faolán is my heir; he has the markings,” he said calmly, but I could hear the hesitancy in his voice. “He was just slow to use the magic.”
“Or, he played it out as so. He told me he would drain me, and take what was his. I didn’t know what he had meant at the time. It’s getting pretty clear that he wants to be the acknowledged heir, at all cost. I’ve been branded with markings before. It would have been easily obtainable if he was working with the Mages.”
“She’s right, and he’s been hard as hell to find lately,” Liam agreed.
I eyed him carefully. He’d been abused, and it showed. It was hard to hate someone when their wounds were bare to see in their eyes. He was a warrior, and, yet, he had a vulnerability that you could see. I was still trying to wrap my brain around the Horde King being the monster they described. I saw that Dresden seemed to be impressed with him, but, then again, according to my father, the Horde King had handed Dresden the crown. What bothered me was Kier and Ryder were allied with the Horde. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to believe and I wondered how much of a chance I had at killing the Horde King, or how long I’d live if I tried and failed. Would I be broken by his evil, as Liam now was? Probably. I was good, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t on the same level of badass as the Horde King was.
He caught the worry in my eyes and moved closer, his hands held out as if he was showing me he wouldn’t hurt me. “Please, don’t hate me,” he said softly, his eyes pleading, which made the scar on his face stand out more. Fae normally don’t scar after Transition so what had been done to him must have been beyond horrible. “You, for me. It is one hell of a trade, little sister. If he didn’t also promise to end the fighting this would be going in a very different direction.”
“What does he look like?” I asked curiously.
“He’s a little over seven feet tall, with black wings that make him appear taller when he uses them. He’s pure evil, the worst sort of creature you can imagine. He has long black hair, and blackened eyes of the purest evil in their ancient depths. His power pushes from his pores until you can feel it touching you from the inside. His teeth are razor sharp when he wants them to be. The Sluagh are his warriors, and he is evil enough to rule them. He’s the strongest of the Unseelie, little sister, and he gives no mercy, even when it is begged for,” he said bitterly.
“Okay then, why didn’t you just say he was evil incarnate?” I asked, swallowing down the nerves. They wanted me to kill him!? Seriously; I might as well slap a sticker on my ass that said dead wench walking.
“You must have questions for us, and we have many for you,” Madisyn said and indicated a sitting area that hadn’t been there a second ago. The Fae here used magic a lot more than Ryder ever had when he was around me.
I took the chair that was furthest from the family. They fell easily into them and stared at me expectantly.
“I have no questions,” I quickly skipped the subject. “I didn’t come here for answers. I came, because I was forced to be here. I understand what you did, or some of it anyway. If you would like to ask me something, do so.”
“Your mother, you said she was good to you?” Madisyn asked, wasting no time.