I couldn't listen anymore—my fuse was lit and spitting sparks. "Are you dumb?"
In tandem, Mason and Valerie sucked in sharply through their teeth, fearing what I was about to unleash, but Will didn't interfere. He looked too gutted to say anything at all.
"You think you're safe here? You think this valley is out of reach?" I fumed.
"We've kept our whereabouts hidden from the king. Until now, Jackson was the only outsider welcome in our community," the chief said, although he appeared more puzzled by my passionate inquiry than anything. "The world could burn, and we'd still be here, waiting it out. Your matters don't concern us."
Patrons, what a bunch of cowplop!
"Even if Regulas never discovered your village, which he will, you have what, ten years before the crops die off?" I pressed, refusing to be dismissed so easily. If he turned me away, he'd have to do so with his ears bleeding. "This sunlight isn't enough to sustain the human race. Not if you intend to procreate."
Doubt flickered in the eyes of our Rhean audience, and I knew it wasn't the first time the fear had crossed their minds.
"If the portal remains open, the demons aren't just going to ignore you. They enjoy toying with people—they like consuming our memories." Demon-Will had reveled in his time here. He'd had a brief taste of the human experience, and he'd nearly killed me in his attempts to prolong it. "When the king dies, then what? What's preventing the demons from seeking new hosts and taking over the world?" I shook my head at him. "Your plan is shortsighted. There is no waiting this out."
Laughlin scowled at me, but it was clear my words had unsettled his peers. The members of the crowd squirmed uncomfortably, murmuring to their neighbors and biting their cheeks.
"And survival aside, are you really willing to condemn the innocents you've left behind? Your relatives? Your kin?" My gaze traveled over the dozens of refugees who'd gathered at the pavilion, and my voice cracked as I asked them, "How can you live with that guilt?"
As I'd hoped, the question hit its target audience square in the chest.
The young men and women in attendance today—those who'd fled their cities as children, too young to stay and fight, too weak to defend their homeland—hung their heads in shame. And I understood their pain, their feelings of ineptitude, their desire to redeem themselves.
I too had watched my home burn to the ground. I'd left my father behind, only to lose him to the flames of war. But now I was here, taking the offensive and doing everything I could to free the innocents enslaved by a wrathful warmonger. To save my brother and my new family.
"Our people knew what staying behind would entail," Laughlin reasoned, but I could detect the sorrow in his eyes, the years that very decision had added to his life. "They knew the price."
"Did they?" I countered. "Did they know that when a demon merged with their body, they'd still be alive? Forced to slaughter children? Forced to witness their own bloodshed?"
The refugees exchanged frightened and dubious glances, while Laughlin traded a tense look with Reese that told me they'd discussed the possibility before.
"And what of those who didn't agree to this fate?" I continued. "My father and friends were innocent. They didn't deserve to die, and my brother didn't deserve to be turned into a monster." A few gazes fell, as if they shared the same sentiment, but they'd had no means of intervention. "Don't tell me the lies in my history books are true. Don't tell me Rhea can turn a blind eye to these war crimes after everything you've been through."
Prove me wrong, I implored. Show me you're better than the High Court.
"War?" Jeremy spat, his cold eyes cutting my way. "Who are you to speak of war?"
The insult was so ridiculous, it rendered me speechless. But then I remembered my age, my size, my gender, and most importantly, my nationality, and I suddenly realized that to any stranger, this was a very sensible question.
"That...is Alex Kingsley," Beckett said, his wispy, gravelly voice numbing the tension in every spine, chest, and scapula in the valley. He looked up from the ground with a knowing smile. "And she is, believe it or not, the sole reason Ells is still standing. Our capital would have fallen without her."
He held the crowd's attention like putty in his calloused hands. Fully prepared to mold it to his liking, just as he'd done at the trial.
"Believe me, I understand how outrageous this proposal is, especially coming from soldiers their age," he admitted, glancing at Laughlin. "Like any sane leader, you think them naïve, too bold for their skin."
The chief's glare loosened a bit, and it finally felt like we had a chance of getting through to him.
"Allying with us when you have every reason to avoid conflict...it's a tough sell. But Kingsley's spot on. The suffering you speak of will never cease with a man like that on the throne." Beckett's sympathetic gaze darkened. "You can close your eyes, but the bloodshed won't vanish, and before long, those crows will find you. They always do."
Laughlin's temper cooled slightly—a common side effect of interacting with Beckett—and he slowly scanned our group. "You've come a long way, and we appreciate your warning, but like I said, we have no intention of bearing arms again. If you want to take on the demon king, you'll have to do it alone." He turned to Cillian. "See them out, Campbell."
"No."
My eyes darted to the source of contention, and I stared at Will's menacing expression in amazement. The young exile had recovered from Laughlin's rejection, and now something else danced in his eyes. Something rebellious.
"No?" the chief repeated.
Will glared back at him, resolute and unflinching. "We've traveled days to get here. The least you can do is consult with the other clansmen. After that, you can put it to a vote, as a people."
Laughlin was astonished, and Jeremy looked about ready to rip Will's head off. He probably could too.
"We don't take orders from outsiders," the redhead seethed, marching forward to stand beside Laughlin. "And we sure as hell don't obey someone who's been branded like an animal." He nodded at the surprised arch of my brow. "That's right. I know exactly what that tattoo signifies. And I will never bow to a king who accepts the barbaric customs of his enemies."
White hot anger pooled in my belly and the meat of my fists. If that brickhead said one more defaming word about Will's character...
"I'm in no position to give you orders—that's something we can agree on," Will conceded, his tone as cool and balanced as a sheet of ice. "It's also why I'm calling for a Rite."
The crowd fell dead silent.
Their mouths hung agape, and their wide eyes flitted from Will to Laughlin, then back again. Disbelieving, perplexed.
"A Rite? You—you can't be serious," Cillian sputtered.
I glanced at Torian in confusion. He'd lost all color in his cheeks. "What's a Rite?"
"It's a fight among clansmen," he whispered. "If Will wins, he wins their fealty and the right to rule."
Wait.
What?
"You mean that's how they pick new kings?" I hissed. "Another goddamn Tournament?"
Jeez. Were all men the same? What made them think merit had everything to do with physical prowess? How had these testosterone-driven imbeciles ever achieved power?
"It was only used if the clans wanted to challenge the reigning monarch," he explained. "The last Rite was over two hundred years ago, though, and it was nothing more than a knife fight. Now, they can use any weapons they choose."
My gaze slid back to Will in concern. Did he really intend to reclaim his title right now? Through violence?
"You're half my age, and you want to fight me for your right to the throne?" Laughlin asked, and I couldn't tell if the idea excited him, amused him, or pissed him off.
"I'll fight anyone who contests my nomination," Will replied. "Age has nothing to do with it."
Reese approached him worriedly, her brow creasing with distress as she touched his wrist. "I know you feel like you need to prove yourself, Asa, but don't be foolish. There's no need to spill blood today."
I was inclined to agree with her, but I also recognized the determination on Will's face. It was the same expression he'd adopted when he'd stalked off into a blizzard to kill himself. Talking him out of that decision hadn't been easy, and that was before he'd had something worth fighting for.
"You underestimate me," he said, searching her face, then those of the Rheans watching him from a distance. Rheans seeking leadership, seeking hope. "You all do. Which is exactly why I have to win this."
Incredulous, Jeremy grabbed Laughlin by the arm. "We're not going to entertain this, are we?"
The chief lifted his brow and shook his head. "Tradition holds. Until we establish a new government, we can't refuse him."
Together, they stared at the prince for a few moments, sizing him up, likely thinking his efforts vain and pitiful. But they didn't know Asa William Sterling. Not like I did.
At last, Laughlin cleared his throat and faced the pavilion with an exasperated grin. "Well? You heard His Majesty." He lifted his giant, brawny arms. "Prepare the ring for combat!"
The air rumbled with excited murmurs, and as the refugees began to disperse, I spotted a few grins and gleeful, stolen glances at the royal runaway.
Will's courage had planted the first seeds of genuine respect among the crowd. Respect, and in some cases, apprehension.
"So he just has to beat some men in a swordfight?" I asked Torian. It sounded simple enough, having witnessed Will's swordsmanship on many occasions. He'd have no problem there.
"No," the medic said, watching Will with a reverence I'd never seen him don before. "He has to defeat the best fighters each clan has to offer. All nine of them at once."
My heart dropped to my feet as the implications materialized before me.
All at once?
Was that even humanly possible?
"What happens if he loses?" I asked quietly, tearing my eyes from Will to study the doctor's nervous expression, his bobbing Adam's apple. "Tori. What happens if he loses?"
Leaky pupils latched onto mine. "There's only one way to stop an insurrection, Alex. There's only one way to lose."
As a few dozen Rheans took to preparing the amphitheater for the Rite, others retrieved their children, neighbors, and elders. Within ten minutes, a few hundred refugees had grown by several thousand, and I was flabbergasted by their numbers.
Over ten years, entire villages had uprooted themselves and settled here. Built their new lives and families here. It was no wonder the valley was so developed—they'd probably recruited every engineer and artisan in Rhea.
Off to the side of the vast, bustling crowd, I glared at Will with my arms crossed. "Why?"
"You know why."
My brow crinkled. "We got our peace deal. We don't need their forces this badly."
It's not worth losing you.
It's really, really not.
"It's not just about the war. It's about what comes after," he said, retying his ponytail to clear his brow of his most stubborn, distracting bangs. "You said it yourself. Even if we win, they can't live off this patch of land forever. One bad winter or an epidemic, and my entire culture is wiped out." His eyes wilted. "I have to help them, Alex. And I can't do that if they don't respect me."
I frowned at him. He'd clearly made up his mind, and I wasn't sure there was anything I could say to deter him at this point.
Gritz, my medicine sure tasted bitter.
"Nine soldiers," Mason reiterated. "Nine."
"Nine soldiers who hate your family and blame you for their suffering," Valerie added.
Will ignored their contributions, his gaze never leaving mine, and I tugged on his sleeve. "You've done a lot of stupid things, Will, but this might make the top of the list."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm just trying to make you feel better about all the reckless things you've done. Even the score a bit." When I didn't take the bait, he loosed a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, but it's the only way they'll take me seriously. It's now or never."
I looked to Torian for help, but the medic was staring at the prince like...well, like royalty. "It's true. We've honored the Rite since Rhea's inception. If you seek their cooperation, this is a bridge you'll have to cross."
"And Ells is archaic?" Mason muttered.
Tori rolled his eyes. "Your country literally holds a culling for teenage boys every year, and you treat it like an annual holiday. You have no room to talk."
Beckett didn't give his two-scents, but he appeared deeply troubled, like a man who'd seen one too many children die. And I understood where he was coming from. One eighteen-year-old boy against nine grown men—nine skilled warriors.
It was preposterous.
Of course, I couldn't say that. Not when Will was so adamant about earning his place here. If he was going to put his life on the line today, I refused to let our last real conversation center around bruised hearts and muddled feelings. He needed my support now, more than ever, and that was what I'd give him.
I blew out a nervous puff of air and stepped forward, placing my gloved hands on either side of his face. He gazed back at me with a cautiousness I'd grown to adore, but he didn't pull away.
"William Sterling. You were taught to fight by Rhean royalty, a skillful guard, a death-defying thief, a veteran soldier, and an archer from hell." I smiled up at him. "I'd place all my money on you. Even if it's only three skits."
He huffed in amusement, lifting my wrist to kiss my exposed knuckles. Then his dark eyes locked on mine, grateful and earnest and reassuring. "Thank you."
I patted his cheek. "Thank me when you're king."
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Will's Simba Arc is here! XD
Please look for monthly updates going forward.
ALSO - I'm thrilled to announce that "Breeder" (Book 1 in the Ephemeral series) will officially become a Paid Story in June! XD So if you're feeling up for a re-read, now's the time! ❤️
It was a bit of a tough decision to make, because all I ever wanted was for people to find this story and connect to the characters, and I never wanted a monetary barrier to get in the way of that. But after three years on this platform (as of June) and over 500,000 reads, I think it's time for a change. Plus, earning a bit of money on the side will definitely pave the way for my future series!
Thank you all so much for your support over the years. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you!! ❤️❤️