His King, His Cariad

Something's Not Right

"You are my king now, cariad."

Something in me stirred at his proclamation. I'm not exactly sure why that word felt so powerful. So meaningful.

Cariad.

Times like this are when a Welsh-to-English dictionary is a must-have. But perhaps it's not such a bad thing right now. Why do I even care about what it could mean? About the depth of his voice when he said it? Nicholas is missing. That should be all that matters to me right now. And I hate myself because deep down I know... that word? It means so much to him. Means too much to me. Focus, Bree. You have a mission. Find Nick.

My head is in two places at once. With two boys at once. God, I'm in trouble.

******

The dark of the woods is suffocating tonight. I take in a deep sigh as my head falls back to get a glimpse of the sky. I search for the little bulbs that are being blocked from my sight by clouds and the leaves from trees overhead. Oh, Nick, I wish I could see the stars. Maybe they can lead me to wherever you are. My head comes back down to focus on the trek in front of me as I walk toward the lodge. We are on our way back from cliff diving, and while it helped work off a bit of stress, it definitely didn't clear my racing mind. As I'm deep in my thoughts, I feel it. Sparks explode over my cheekbone and travel down to my jaw, my neck, and back up into my hair. He's looking at me. Examining me as he's done so many times before. We round a corner and see lights a little further up.

"I will walk you to your room," Selwyn Kane's deep voice pauses for a second. "I am sorry, I will walk you to Nicholas's room when we return to the lodge. There will be extra wards added to ensure your safety. If you need to leave his room for anything, simply call me, and I will be there to escort you." Escort?

My head whips to him so fast, my vision blurs. "No, Sel. I won't be a prisoner in this house. I don't have to alert you when I want to make a move." His amber eyes brighten even more in the darkness, anger intensifying the glow. One dark eyebrow shoots up.

Suddenly, he is in my space, his face all I can see. Bending over me, his nose is a breath away from mine. Soft, black hair sweeps across my forehead.

"Did you already forget what happened last night?" His voice is stiff with agitation.

"I'm not an idiot, Sel," I say through clenched teeth. "I was there. We need to be worried about finding Nick! Not locking me up like Snow White."

Sel's head cocks to the side, fangs bared. "Exactly, Briana. You were there. It could have been you who was taken last night. Then what? Did you think about that? Your safety is of utmost importance. You are no longer a page; you are Arthur. You are our king! Davis took him from under my nose. Do you think that I will allow that to happen to you, as well?" Dragon smoke might as well be shooting from his nose, he is breathing so hard. I feel a hint of sympathy since I just know that he is overwrought with guilt and anger from last night. Issac, Martin Davis's kingsmage, mesmered and incapacitated Sel only for Nick's own father to kidnap him. Too bad for Sel, because I'm angry too. He doesn't have the right to tell me what to do.

"I am Briana Matthews, not King Arthur! You only want to keep me safe because of the lines. Lines that I shouldn't even be a part of," I burst out. I make my way around him, continuing up the path. In my rage, I don't pay attention and stumble over a freaking tree branch. My arms flail out in an attempt to catch my fall. Before I hit the ground, strong hands grab onto my waist and pull my back flush to a broad chest. I don't even get the chance to feel embarrassed. The hard lines of Selwyn's torso steal my attention as he shifts his hands to my stomach, anchoring me in place. His touch feels oddly comforting. He moves his head to the side of mine, warm breath tickling my ear.

Sel's low voice murmurs, "Yes, you are Briana Matthews. You are also the Crown Scion of Arthur. It is not right what happened to your ancestor, and I am so fucking sorry about what it means for your family. But I am not sorry that you are here with us... with me." I draw in a sharp breath. "You of all people know that I will not rest until Nick is back with us. However, I need you to be safe. You are my top priority. You, Briana. Do you understand?" The tone of his voice rings with finality.

"Yes," I say, voice shaking. Think my heart skipped a beat or two, and he most definitely caught it with his stupid, enhanced hearing. "I understand." End of discussion. For tonight. He finally releases me and my breath whooshes from my lungs. After a moment, I turn and look at his inhumanly beautiful face. His pale skin stands stark against the dark of the woods. What's going on in his head? He misses Nick just as much as I do. More so, in fact, with their history and his kingsmage bond. I want to keep fighting but I'm too tired. I just want to lay down and cry. Sel sees the fight leave my eyes and guides me to the back patio. Wood creaks under my feet as I go up each step. I expect loud thuds from his heavy black boots, but his steps are silent, as though he were a ghost.

Opening the door, Selwyn ushers me inside. "Go upstairs and get some rest, Bree." I look at him, not used to the sound of my nickname in his deep baritone. "I will go take care of the wards. If you need me, just call out. I will hear you."

"Ok," I say, walking away from him. When I turn back to look at him, he has already sped away to the boundaries near the trees. Shaking my head, I decide to make a detour to the kitchen. Maybe some ice cream will bring me a minuscule of happiness. As I am walking to the refrigerator, I see the door is already open with someone inside it. The door closes with a thump as Tori turns to the counter. When she sees me, a look reminiscent of disgust crosses over her face. She fixes the expression with a quickness and gives me a tight-lipped grin. Before I can say anything to her, she hurries away, heading toward the elevator. Ugh.

Mood thoroughly sour, I leave the kitchen as well, opting to take the steps up to Nick's room. This is good. I need exercise to help me be stronger. I need to be as strong as I can be to find Nick and to be king.

King.

My black self is king of one of the whitest organizations on this planet. I lean against the stair banister and bury my head in my hands. Momma, how am I supposed to do this? Lead these people that see me as nothing but the help? People who don't see what their ancestors' actions of hate have cost anyone who has the nerve to be different from their "standards." Despair fills me when I think of how I got to this point. Generations of running and pain. Rape. The women in my family have been forced to make hard decisions time and time again, having little freedom for fear of being hunted. My family's curse. One daughter at a time. The woman with the power of rootcraft is destined to die an early death. Mothers being ripped away from daughters, just as mine was ripped from me not too long ago. I feel tears filling my eyes and blink quickly to keep them back. No. I will not cry right here. There are people counting on me and even more who want to see me fail. Picking my head up, I continue my trudge up the stairs.

When I close the door to Nick's room, all of the events and emotions of the last two days flood and hit me all at once. My chest feels heavy. Whitty. Russ. Evan. Arthur. Vera. Momma. My brain is drowning in a tidal wave and won't let up for oxygen. Breathing becomes shallow and airways feel constricted. I am gasping for breath. Desperate for it. I surge forward and grasp hold of the edge of a dresser. Knees are hitting the ground. I'm dying. No, it's too soon. Too soon. OH, GOD, my head! A massive fist is squeezing my skull. It's being crushed. Horrible choking sounds fill the room. Are they coming from me?

After what feels like hours, air comes back to me, and the pain ebbs. I slump on the ground and feel wetness down my cheeks. I succumb to the tears and sorrow. I'm not sure how long I've been lying on the floor when the door bangs open.

"Briana!"

Heat sparks across my body, back and forth to finally settle on my face.

"Sel," my voice a mere whisper. "Please help me, something's not right."