Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(4)

My parents had been good friends with both of them, but they wouldn’t meet my gaze.

Breathe, I had to remind myself. Breathe! I wanted to scream and demand to know how this could have happened, but I had to stay calm.

I—weak magic and all—was all House Medeis had.

Though my eyes stung with unshed tears and I wanted to crumple, I couldn’t.

I had been the Heir.

Now I was the House Medeis Adept. The leader.

And not only did I have an old, magical home depending on me, but everyone who had been sworn into our family as well.

For them, I wouldn’t break. At least, not on the outside. I couldn’t do anything to stop the pain from tearing my heart from end to end.

That was why I looked out at the werewolf Alphas, the fae nobles, the visiting vampires, and all the other powers that be that had come for the funeral, and I knew the truth.

They were predators, circling me. They were trying to gauge me and see what I’d mean for House Medeis, and how that would impact the supernatural community

Based on their expressions—the vampires’ curled upper lips, the wolfish grins of the werewolves, the smug smiles of the other wizards—it did not look good.

I didn’t blame them for their low opinion of me.

As the last Medeis I had to inherit the House. If I died the House Medeis would change names—and lose some of its respect, power, and members in the process. It would disband and be reborn or, in reality, be re-branded in a new image. If you didn’t entirely separate from the old family line, the House would eventually rebel. Yeah, it sounds like a bunch of elitist crap—and for the most part I still think it is—but a magical House throwing a temper tantrum is never good. So even though I was the weakest wizard in the House, I was now the Adept.

“Do you need a break, Adept?” Great Aunt Marraine asked.

My stomach churned at the title I knew shouldn’t have come to me for decades. “It’s fine.”

Great Aunt Marraine studied me through bottlecap glasses that made her eyes large and owlish. “The House allowed the caterers in—though it was a near thing. All will be ready for the luncheon.”

“Thanks, Great Aunt Marraine.”

“Of course, dear.” She looked past me. Judging by the weight in her gaze, she was studying my parents’ coffins. “They were taken from us too early.”

My throat squeezed, and I could only manage to stare out at the mourners.

“But,” Great Aunt Marraine continued, “you’ll be a fine Adept.”

I couldn’t help the frown that made my forehead wrinkle as I shifted my stare to her. Had she finally cracked? Great Aunt Marraine was old when I was born, but she’d always been spry—and sassy enough to know that an Adept who could barely start a campfire wasn’t much of an Adept at all.

She reached out and smoothed my blond hair away from my face. “The blood of the Medeis wizards flows in your veins, Hazel. You’ll thrive. And when we get back to the House you need to eat. The caterer made your father’s favorite triple chocolate brownies. You ought to have one or a dozen, get some more meat on these bird bones of yours.”

I tried to smile at her, but the thought that my dad and I would never split another brownie was enough to make a pins and needles sensation prickle in my lungs. “I will,” I lied.

“Good.” Aunt Marraine nodded, then waddled away—her unusual gingham dress a spot of bright blue in the sea of black.

I watched her until I noticed Mason drift away from the House Tellier representatives and walk in my direction.

Mason was one of the best wizards in House Medeis, and was an extremely distant relative. I think his great, great, great grandmother had been a Medeis, but it was so far back I couldn’t remember the specifics, and the connection was so diluted the House didn’t consider his blood to be part of my family line. He was in his mid-thirties, about ten years older than me, so I hadn’t hung out with him when we were kids. But I’d always admired his talent for magic.

He offered me a practiced smile and hugged me—which I was not expecting, and was more than a little awkward. His arms were stiff, and I mostly just felt super hot due to his proximity. “You do our House credit, Hazel,” he said.

“Thanks.” I started to grip the fabric of my black skirt when a quick glance down confirmed the material was already crushed and wrinkled. “I’m starting to think this day will never end.”

“It was a terrible accident,” Mason said. “And a great loss for the wizarding community.” He smiled and nodded to a female wizard from House Rothchild dressed in periwinkle blue. Rothchild was one of our allies, but I doubt the House relationship was what had the other wizard smiling.

I was clinically aware Mason was classically good-looking, with a fine smile, broad shoulders, and clean-cut appearance. But given who my friends were, I was immune to it, and instead pondered how someone could smile at a time like this.

The stifling air in the room had me sweating. I had to get away and do something, or I was going to suffocate. “Maybe I should start packing up the pictures,” I muttered as I stared at the easels and tables that displayed printed photos of my parents.

I didn’t mean for Mason to hear, but he did anyway. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “You can’t.”

I blinked. “What?”