Sky and Storm ( Warriors of Vis #1)(42)

“So now you know,” the queen said. “Can we stop this madness, please? I need my beauty sleep.”

Even if fake, the coolness in her tone rattled Storm. She really thought she’d go back to being Vis’s queen. From the shadows, a silhouette emerged, catching his eye, and making Storm forget about the queen. Sera’s old, wiry body was unmistakable, but what had caught his eye was the knife she held between her teeth. She looked at Storm, expectantly.

For a second, Storm thought to stop her. As vicious as his step-mother was, she was the queen of Vis. He should grant her a trial. She’d be accused of treason, and imprisoned for life. But would that keep Sky safe? Whether they’d been involved in this particular plot, there were many a nobleman who shared the queen’s view on how Storm should live his life. Storm gave Sera a subtle nod and waited.

Just like the shadows she’d appeared from, Sera glided across the floor, stepping around the king and stopping behind his wife. The queen was rearranging her hair and trying to adjust her disheveled dress. In a split second, her throat was cut open, side to side, gushing copper blood painting her bodice. The king whimpered and went to kneel next to his wife, holding her close as she took her last breath.

“I am leaving for Estas,” Sera announced.

Storm nodded again, but she didn’t move. “What do you need?” he asked when Sera’s unwavering gaze started to jar him.

“Do I kill them all? Or only those named?”

All. Wipe out their bloodline. Sky’s intake of breath and the way he clutched Storm’s shoulder quietened the angry shout within the Dragon’s mind. He sighed and leaned into Sky, kissing his forehead.

“The queen and her scheming daughter. And anyone else who was directly involved.”

Sera bowed and disappeared in the shadows. The others, an almost catatonic Cloud, the silent king who hadn’t moved or said anything more than a whimper or a moan, Sky who could barely hold himself up from his persisting exhaustion, were all left there, all needing Storm to fix everything.

Storm’s anger still simmered, the pain of the betrayal coming from some close to him making it worse. His father standing there, not doing anything, allowing all of this to happen in the first place, should have infuriated him more, but the man looked so defeated. Almost unrecognizable to Storm, to whom the King of Vis had always seem like an all-powerful giant. This man broken by a scheming bitch’s death was that almost god-like ruler that had forced Storm into a warmongering life. And now, like everyone else, he was waiting for Storm to take the lead and clean up the mess.

Storm silently got Sky and Cloud into bed, watching over them as they curled together. He got his father to a chair and helped him sit down. When they were all settled, Storm left the room and went to find his men. A couple were sent to handle the queen’s body and arrange for a quick funeral the next day. Another was asked to clean the blood in Storm’s bedchamber, and two more were sent to find a spare bed and set it in the room adjoining Storm’s. His desk had to be moved, but at least the king wouldn’t be alone or unprotected. Until Storm had a better grasp on who was involved and what drove them to betray their kingdom, none of them were safe.

When it was all done, Storm got into bed next to Sky. Cloud, who’d been curled in Sky’s arms, silently crying, lifted her head and looked at Storm. She swallowed with some effort and cleaned the tears and snot from her face with the back of her sleeve.

“Where will I be sent?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

“Sent?” Storm scrunched his forehead and tried to think. Tired and emotionally drained as he was, his mind wasn’t at his sharpest. Did Cloud think she’d be asked to spy again? “Why would I send you anywhere? You did great work, Cloud. You uncovered a troubling conspiracy. But you are Vis’s princess, not a spy.”

Sky’s elbow hit Storm’s side and lodged itself into his ribs, causing massive pain. Storm yelped, and fumbled a little. “Unless you really want to be a spy, then we’ll… see about it.”

Cloud smiled and her eyes filled with more tears. Shit, this wasn’t going very well. Storm was quite terrible at comforting his sister. Especially since she’d never really needed him to comfort her.

“I meant where will I be exiled to. Please, anywhere but Estas.”

“Why the hell would I exile my own sister?”

“Because I am the daughter of a traitor,” she said, her voice void of any nuance.

“Cloud,” Storm whispered and tightened his arms around her. “You are my sister, my father’s daughter. And I love you.”

“Half-sister,” she mumbled.

The word was foreign to Storm. He knew what it meant, of course, but he’d never thought of Cloud like that. Menace, sure. Pest, even more often. But she was his sister and he’d rather lose an arm than hurt her for something her foul mother had done.

“I am sorry you’re her daughter. But that’s burden enough for you without anyone else making it worse. You are never going anywhere, Cloud. Unless you choose to leave, Vis is your home. And I am your blood. No halves or buts about it.”

Cloud hugged him tighter and nodded. She was still crying, but she’d relaxed. A moment later she pushed herself up. “I’ll go to my rooms. You are exhausted, both of you. I should not impose. “

Storm ruffled her hair and then picked her up, dropping her from where he’d taken her earlier. “Sleep here tonight. We all need to stay together, keep each other safe.”