Black Moon (Alpha Pack #3)(32)

Grant gave a quiet laugh. "Well, a cushy retirement was sounding awfully boring anyhow. Give me a couple of days to square things here. Then I'll be there. See you soon."

"Jarrod, . . . thank you."

"No need for that. Just don't tell my baby girl I'm coming. I want it to be a surprise."

Oh, it will be. For both of you. "Sure."

Nick hung up the phone and didn't move again for a very long while.

* * *

Kalen wasn't surprised to be met by both Mackenzie and Melina when he walked into the infirmary. The women stopped in front of him side by side, their stance more than a wee bit militant.

"I swear I'm not going to say or do anything to upset him," he said, holding up a hand before either of them could speak. "I just want to apologize."

"He's agreed to see you. But to be frank, I shouldn't even allow you near him," Melina said in a steely tone.

Kalen winced. "I won't hurt him. You have my word."

Won't you?

Shit! The shields had slipped without him realizing it, and he'd need to fully concentrate to shore them up again. Trouble was, his energy was shot from shielding all afternoon.

"You've got ten minutes. He's better but still not at full speed, and I won't have anything setting back his recovery. We'll be nearby."

"I'm sure you will."

Melina turned and stalked off, but Mac stepped forward and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. "It'll be fine. He's in the third room on the left. Go."

"Thanks." Giving his lady a quick kiss, he headed for Sariel's room. Outside, he knocked.

"Come in."

He wasn't certain what to expect, but the sight of the Fae prince brought him up short just inside the doorway, guilt making another ugly appearance. The faery's cheeks were gaunt, the angles in his face more pronounced than usual. There were smudges under his golden eyes that indicated lack of sleep and illness. His long blue hair, normally a shiny sapphire shade, was dull and lifeless. As were the wings that drooped on either side of him, feathers hanging to the floor.

As he met Kalen's gaze, Kalen saw a weariness in those golden orbs that showed how extremely ancient a being he was, despite his youthful looks.

"Come and sit. I won't turn you into a toad," Sariel said in attempt at levity.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did." Moving to the prince's bedside, he took a seat in a vinyl chair. "I'm sure you hate the sight of me right now."

The prince cocked his head. "No, I can't say I do. What happened wasn't your fault."

"How can you say that? I let Beryl out and she nearly killed you!" He shook his head, trying to comprehend how the Fae could harbor no ill will toward him.

Sariel sighed, his tone resigned. "Kalen, the witch nearly killed me at my father's urging, not yours. My death has been his goal for the past few years, and these most recent months have nearly seen him succeed more than once. He won't cease until one of us is dead, and that blame cannot be laid at your feet."

Kalen felt anything but blameless in the whole deal. God, what must it be like to have your own father actively out to kill you? Kalen's dad had been a mean, abusive old motherf*cker and he'd enjoyed hurting his son, but he'd never actually tried to murder him.

Yes, I want my spawn dead. I'll spread him on an altar in chains and use my own talons to slice off his wings. Then his balls and c**k as he screams in agony, begging for mercy. And then I'll rip his heart from his chest and feast on it.

Kalen stared at the prince, shaken.

"Kalen? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Gathering himself, he strengthened his shields. "Why does he want you dead?"

"I'm his only son, the product of his rape of my mother, the Seelie queen. My brothers are her legitimate offspring with the Seelie king who reluctantly raised me as his own. As Malik's progeny, I am the only being with the power to destroy him." He studied Kalen thoughtfully. "Or so I believed until recently."

Kalen ignored the prince's insinuation for the moment. "So why'd he wait until the last few years to go after you? You're something like eleven thousand years old, according to what I overheard."

"Yes, give or take." His smile was sad. "Though thousands of years are a mere blink in time to the Fae in general, some days it seems an eternity. Anyway, in most cases it takes millennia for us to reach our full potential. And when we reach our maturity, we get our wings as well."

Kalen's eyes widened. "Holy shit. That means . . ."

"Precisely." The prince sounded smug. "When you attain your full power, you'll get your wings, young Fae."

"Wha-how did you know?" he stammered.

"I've known you were Fae since the second you entered the compound."

"Then why the hell didn't you tell me?" he snapped in irritation. "Instead I had to hear it from Malik. And he claimed he didn't have a clue as to why I don't have wings."

Sariel made a face. "As humans say, my sire lies like a f**king rug. Don't believe anything that passes his foul lips, Sorcerer. I mean that."

"Okay. So how come you didn't mention my heritage to me?"

"To be honest, I wasn't certain that you didn't already know, and I didn't want to broach the subject until we were better acquainted."