Blakeshire (Insight #9)(4)

I nearly punched him.

“I don’t want to bring her here, but everything is telling me that I need to.”

“Everything?”

I slammed my fist into my chest.

Zander let a slow smile come to his face. “Honest. If you are honest, she will let the walls down.”

“She’s hurt, Zander.”

“For good reason.”

“Bring her here. Open the wing—you agree with that?”

He raised his brow. “I do. But I would take my time with that notion.”

“You’re a jacked up soothsayer, you know that?” Take my time? What did that mean: an hour, a day, a decade?

“Few days,” he answered as if he’d read my thoughts. He shrugged. “Try being Drake and not a king for a few days. See where that gets you.”

“More than likely with an overrun kingdom by the time I come back.”

“Sire, do you not know how to bend time in your favor?”

“Call me sire one more time, and I’m going to kick your ass from one side of this palace to the other.”

He burst into laughter. He was one of two that knew the non-king Drake. Landen was the other, but that was another story in and of itself. Neither Landen nor I were eager to tell Willow that we had been fast friends in our childhood. Torn apart by fate and thrust back together by the same measure.

“Have you figured out anything about Alamos?” I asked him.

Alamos had always been a close advisor of mine, a self-proclaimed father figure. But lately I had noticed that his aura seemed to shift drastically at times. Never in front of me, but nevertheless each time I saw him his energy was vastly different. I was concerned that either he was manipulating me or he had been possessed. I could not afford for either to happen. He knew of Landen and Willow’s plots, that the palace was full of native Charans in place to protect anyone that lingered near me.

“Nothing. I need something personal of his in order for me to make it clear to you if he is the real deal or not.”

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t have time to go rooting through his things; his chambers were at least a mile away from where I sat right now.

“No rush. If you are not here, he can bring no harm.”

I hesitated as I thought of all the fires I had burning right now. All the false stories I had in the air. This was the worst time in history for me to leave, but I needed to. I had to.

“I want you out of the shadows.”

Zander raised his brow.

“Marc is my doppelganger. Chrispin is the commander of my royal guard. I want you as my second-in-command. Front and center. Starting now.”

No fear came to his eyes. Even if there were a real threat, I doubt I would see any there. Zander was not the small, disheveled boy he was when he watched his mother perish. Even though he was barely seventeen, he was a man, a warrior, and fit the bill to a T. Any king would want him at his side, with or without the brotherhood factor we shared. I knew his weaknesses just as he knew mine.

I was growing closer to my newfound blood brothers Marc and Chrispin, but not close enough to reveal to them that at times I may fall to the floor as ice ran through my veins, as Donalt tried to seize me. Zander and Landen were the only ones that knew of that weakness, and Zander was the only one that knew how to bring me back.

“Honored.”

“As soon as I see Chrispin, I will tell him as much. If anything goes south while I’m gone, you get my mother the hell out of here.”

Zander could see in the string. Not odd, considering his other gifted senses. My father had taught us both the passages long ago. I’d asked him more than once to get out of this hell and run, but he was waiting on something; what, I didn’t know.

Zander glanced up quickly then stood, pulling me up with him. When he started to walk briskly toward the hidden passage in the room, I went to follow him, but he held his hand up. “Mommy’s home,” he said with a smirk. “I will guard your fires while you’re gone, my friend.” And with that, he vanished into the dark passage.

Zander was not a fan of my mother; not in a sinister way, but in the way of respect. He told me once that the energy was too tense around her.

No argument on that matter would come from me. My mother was, at least until I met Madison, the fiercest female I had ever known, though she hid that well from every other soul in this dimension.

I started to pull a few clothes together, noting that I had very little attire that allowed me to present a ‘non kingly’ appearance to Madison.

I had pulled a few outfits and such together right as my mother walked into my chambers.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

I raised my brow. “Swearing?”

She huffed out a breath as she came to my side. We’d had more than a few arguments since Madison had been found, and no doubt they had placed a cold wall between us. She wanted me to admit fault, not only that I was wrong about Willow but to face the fact that I had killed my own father. I refused to do either in her presence, even in a protected room. She was the first woman that had broken my heart. She had hidden my heritage from me, a family from me, and furthermore, she let Donalt do what he did to me. I don’t care how powerful any king is, if my child were in their grasp I would not dress in royal clothes and turn the other way. I would fight to the death and ensure that my child was safe.