Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(38)

Kizira’s condescension disappeared. Her shoulders softened. She nodded. “You’re right. I want to be free of this tower forever.” Directing her words at Flaevynn, she said, “For that, I’m willing to do anything you want.”

“We shall see.” Flaevynn floated inches above the shining marble floor for several seconds. “This time, I will not be so careless in how I compel you.”

What was the witch up to now?

Cathbad frowned but didn’t question her on it. He was more interested in getting Kizira alone, and the quickest way to do that was by reminding Flaevynn she was the girl’s ma. “Now that we’re all together for once, let’s share a meal ta catch up and talk business later, shall we?”

Disgust brought out the evil in Flaevynn’s eyes. “Indulge your revolting paternal needs on your own time. Had I known who you were the first time I lay with you, I would have been able to prevent the pregnancy.”

And if he had not cast a spell of destiny on her during their mating, the witch would have aborted Kizira. “Ya ought ta be thankin’ me for makin’ sure ya continued ta fulfill the prophecy.”

“Curse.” She huffed at him. Her hair started twisting and whipping around her, a sign of her rising impatience. “You can explain what we’re doing to your daughter. I need to finish what you interrupted. Don’t bother me unless it’s important.” With that, Flaevynn waved her hand in front of her and disappeared.

Kizira rounded on Cathbad with threat in her voice. “So I’m expendable, am I?”

“Keep your voice down.” He stepped toward her.

She lifted a hand, finger opening to point at him.

“Do no do that if ya want my help.”

Her hand shook as she clearly battled to decide if she should strike at him or not.

She had power, but not so much as his. “Ah, child. You’re no match for me.”

“Don’t start acting like you care now.” Her finger shook with the indecision warring in her gaze. “And my powers might not equal yours, but I can do serious damage.”

This was not going as well as he’d hoped.





TWELVE





Kizira didn’t want to die.

Not yet.

But frustration and anger balled in her gut, demanding an outlet, and Cathbad presented an easy target. A deserving target.

Just not an easy kill.

Her attractive father had changed not at all since reaching thirty-five. Same wavy black hair and firm physical build that didn’t quite reach six feet. Same powerful presence Kizira had benefited by on occasion. Same piercing green eyes that reflected more knowledge than anyone else in this tower.

Including Flaevynn.

Truth was Kizira couldn’t bring herself to strike Cathbad down even after all the things he’d done to her.

Even if she’d held that much power.

He’d been her only true parent at times, and he had granted the request she’d made at the age of nineteen for one year to herself before she had to accept her role as priestess. A year spent . . .

Never think about that while inside this place.

Pathetic for a Medb priestess to hunger for a parent’s love, but there it was in cold reality. Her whole body shook, as much from her painful time in the dungeon as from fury. Every part of her body hurt.

Cathbad implored her, “Put your hand down, child, and let me heal ya.”

She lowered her arm, neither accepting his offer nor refusing him. Just standing there took all the effort she could expend.

He raised a hand over her head, fingers spread wide, and chanted, “Blood of my blood, I share my strength, to heal . . .” He continued in a soothing voice, one that also drew out her bitterness along with her pain while healing her injuries.

Did he think she’d give up her resentment and overlook her time in the dungeon just because he’d quieted her inner turmoil for the moment?

She wouldn’t thank him.

He’d paved part of Kizira’s hard road himself.

“May Flaevynn burn someday for how she treats her own child,” he said as he lowered his hand.

Kizira’s body glowed with renewed health.

He smiled at her. “I hope those are the clothes you were wantin’.”

She took in her attire. He’d outfitted her in her favorite mortal wear of jeans and a pullover sweater, aqua blue. His favorite color. So he’d been thoughtful in his choice.

That didn’t mean she’d trust him. To do so would be foolish.

A platter of fresh fruit, her favorite yogurt and granola appeared, plus a polished wood table and two comfortable chairs.

Now he made her feel like a shrew in the face of this consideration and his healing.

He sat down and opened his hands out like What are ya waitin’ for?

That brought on a wave of guilt no one else in this place seemed afflicted with, but she ended up muttering, “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Eat while we talk.”

Now with their father-daughter moment out of the way, she took a seat and demanded, “What did Flaevynn want you to fill me in on?”

“The Medb are financin’ a special event where Alterants will battle.”

Her eyebrows drew tight. “Why would we do that?”

While she ate a banana and stirred granola into her yogurt, he explained a plan for something called the Achilles Beast Championship and how it would function, adding that the Medb had offered trades for all Alterants entered to battle and their sponsors. Rubbing his hands together, Cathbad got to the key point. “But the most important element will be gainin’ the five Alterants that win the final Elite matches.”