Winter’s Caress(Brac Village 19)(31)

Dasani thinned his lips as his head snapped back and forth, searching, trying his best to think where Egbar would be. He grabbed a long blade from the butcher’s block on the counter, gripping it tightly in his hand. Egbar was the new rebellion leader. He would seek sanctuary from his followers, but he would also want to be somewhere he felt safe.

The temple.

Before Dasani could shimmer away, Rakeym appeared to his right. The leader scowled at Dasani as he took a step forward. “You should be with your mate. Your father’s fate belongs to the Ultionem now.”

“He is my father,” Dasani said, his voice strained with unleashed hatred. “His punishment is mine to deliver.”

Dasani had never been a brave soul. His father had taught him fear and bestowed upon him humiliation and shame. But today, those behaviors slipped away. Today, Dasani would show his father what he was made of, how much he had loved Sheba, how devastating the loss was.

Egbar. Would. Pay.

Rakeym tried to grab Dasani, but he was quick. Dasani spun away from the man’s grasp and then shimmered to the temple. No one could shimmer directly inside. The temple held too many protection spells. Dasani was standing on the stone steps that led to the one place where any Shadow elf who sought asylum was allowed.

Even a murderer.

He pushed the heavy oak doors open and stepped into the dimly lit hall. Lit torches held in place by iron sconces guided him farther inside. He didn’t see another living soul, but he knew his father was here. Dasani could feel the man’s evil presence.

His footsteps were measured, slow as he listened. The silence was deafening. Dasani moved around the altar and walked to the back room. It was forbidden for him to enter the chambers where the council gathered for meetings. He’d been taught that this room was blessed, sanctified by their elders of long ago.

And that was exactly where Egbar would be hiding.

Dasani pressed the palm of his hand against the grain of the wood and pushed the door open. He stepped inside. His cell phone vibrated. Dasani ignored it. He moved farther into the room, finding himself standing at one end of a long wooden table elaborately decorated with rich colors of autumn gold and burgundy. Tapestries hung from the walls, and the rug underfoot was so soft and thick that his footsteps were muted.

And sitting at the head of the table was Egbar.

“Now this is a surprise,” Egbar held a glass in his hand, swishing around the amber contents before he sniffed at the liquid. “I would have thought it would be Rakeym or one of his men to find me.”

“You killed Sheba,” Dasani said between clenched teeth. “Your own daughter.”

“Causality of war.” Egbar took a sip of the liquid. He glanced at Dasani with soulless eyes, as if contemplating him. “I took the one thing that meant everything to you.” He set the glass aside. “You shouldn’t have disobeyed me, or you wouldn’t have been punished.”

“You call killing your own daughter a punishment for me?” Dasani knew his father was off-balanced, but he hadn’t known the man’s insanity ran this deep. He pushed down the pain and sorrow he felt at the loss of his sister, slamming the door on his suffering. He wanted full concentration on killing the man who had stolen his precious sister.

“Indeed.”

Dasani’s fingers curled around the kitchen knife so tightly that his hand stung. “You’re going to fucking hell pay with your life.”

His father smirked. “Cursing is not your forte. Leave such foulness to the experts.” He rose to his feet and pressed the palms of his hands against the wood grain of the table. “Because you will never leave this fucking temple alive, you perverted, sinning, sick, cock-sucking bastard. You are no son of mine. I would not have bred a man who likes taking cock up his ass or who allowed filth like a tiger shifter to do the deed.”

Raising the knife over his head, Dasani raced the length of the table as he shouted in rage. He was going to stab the devil in his cold heart. He was going to find justice for Sheba. Dasani was going to end Egbar’s life.

But his moment of glory was stolen from him. Someone rushed out of the door to his right and barreled into him, taking him down to the floor. He tried to stab the person, but the stranger was too strong, disarming Dasani in seconds.

Egbar moved to Dasani’s side and squatted. He picked up the knife and turned it over in his hand. “You should have come with a gun.” Egbar set the knife aside and then wrapped his fingers around Dasani’s throat, squeezing tightly. “You could have shot me from a safe distance, and all of this would have been over.”

Dasani refused to beg for his life. He lay there glaring up at his father. “And you should have been born with a soul,” he said before his father’s fingers tightened, cutting off anything else he might have said.