Chapter 24

I t was a wonder that Gideon could laugh at all after the day he had had, but it was a nice surprise to know that he still could. Even though she was small, Sybil had swung him around so hard during a dance, almost wiping out the man with the fiddle. The harsh curses that had come from the fiddler as he picked up his instrument had Sybil clinging to his arms, in stitches laughing. He couldn't believe how sore his jaw was from the amusement too, the smile still plastered on his face.

"I cannot dance with you again, Gideon." She finally let go of his tunic to hold her belly from laughing pains. "I fear that you will break the legs of the accordion next, and I will not be responsible for that. I am a healer, not someone who breaks bones."

His laugh broke through the music as it began playing again. "Oh, no you don't. I am not being held responsible for taking out the fiddler. You may be small, but you had the strength of a warrior there. If it weren't for you, that man wouldn't be cursing me out."

She playfully smiled. "Accidents happen." Sybil smoothed a hand over his chest, and her lashes fluttered shut for just one moment before her hand dropped from where it sat.

"Although, if I were going to be strategic," Gideon whispered to her, "I would take out the man with the accordion next time; he seems to be playing a little off beat."

She beamed back at him, and his heart constricted in his chest.

A cough came from beside them, and she turned her head to see who it was.

Gideon reluctantly pulled his eyes from her face and did the same thing to see a member of the Fae Court standing before him. Gideon had no idea that the Fae even cared about what had happened here today, but nevertheless, they were enjoying the merriment. The man had white-gold hair, and his complexion was dark and glowing. He wore the cobalt-blue jacket of King Oberon's men, and Gideon knew that he was probably going to report everything that he saw to the king.

He took a low bow, his twinkling eyes focused on Sybil. "May I cut in and ask the Empress of Earth to dance? They speak of her beauty and skill in Skyelir, and I have come to see it for myself."

Sybil nodded her head, still holding that same smile that had been for Gideon. "I hope the rumours of my beauty have not brought you all this way for nothing, Your Grace."

Why did Gideon's heart twist in his chest as she acknowledged the Fae?

"Your beauty does not disappoint, Empress," he said so smoothly it almost made Gideon's eyes roll.

A blush took up residence in her cheeks, and his stomach flipped.

Gideon stuck out his hand before Sybil could take the Fae's, and she placed her soft fingers in his. He bowed down low and kissed her delicate hand before rising. "Have fun. Come and find me if you want to piss off the fiddler again."

She laughed, and before she could say anything, the Fae stepped in and had her spinning around like a child's toy away from where they stood. As he sauntered back over to the seating, which was full of members of the factions in deep conversation, he was met by Marcus Coldwell with an ale jug.

"Drink this," he said as he pushed the semi-cold jug into his hand. "You must be thirsty from all of that dancing."

Gideon took the drink reluctantly.

Marcus Coldwell had been a member of the Blacksteel Hunting Clan for years after Viktir took him in from a distant cousin's rejection. However, Gideon couldn't place how he had felt as he watched Marcus choose Viktir over Torin. Gideon suspected Marcus could feel the tension of that decision lingering in the air as they stood together.

"To Torin," Marcus said roughly, raising the jug in toast.

"To the Commander of the Blacksteel Hunting Clan." Gideon raised his own, and they both chugged a drink in appreciation of their newest commander.

For the first time today, Gideon wondered how Torin would punish all the members of the clan who stood on Viktir's side. Marcus had always been like a brother to both Torin and Gideon— a shoulder to lean on, a friend to talk to—but he had stood on the opposite side today.

"I would rather cut to it, Marcus." Gideon's words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. "Why did you stand with my father today?"

Marcus sucked a breath through his teeth, and his eyes widened. "Because I had my choice and you had yours. We both had to make a hard decision."

Gideon took a sip of ale and swallowed down the awkwardness. "That's just stating the facts, Marcus. That's not giving a rationale behind it."

He let out a sigh that finally relaxed his shoulders. "Because I knew Torin would win."

Confusion pulled Gideon's brown down. "Then why would you not stand on his side?"

A dark hollowness glittered in Marcus's eye. "Because I wanted to repay an old debt. I wanted to pay some respect to my former commander who took me in when I needed him most, and it was the only way I knew how."

Gideon understood then. Marcus would always be grateful to have been brought into the Blacksteel clan and to be reared as someone of worth. Sometimes Gideon believed that Marcus was the only person on this earth that Viktir had time for. He saw something in Marcus, and he had always trusted him.

Their moment together was cut short as Rhea ran towards them, eyes filled with a brightness that Gideon had not seen in many moons. She pulled Marcus onto the dancefloor. "You owe me a dance for healing your broken ankle from the last hunt."

Gideon laughed as the hunter was whisked away by someone so gentle that she made a mouse look warlike. But there was a strong side to Rhea, like his mother. They would not suffer fools gladly. Even though they may be earth witches, they were no pushovers. And as Gideon looked at Rhea and Marcus now, he could see that Coldwell was beaming from ear to ear.

"Giving up your dancing shoes so soon?" Breighly Baxgroll bumped her shoulder against his as she smirked.

There was a lightness that he didn't know he needed as he saw her. She stood by his side in the silver guard uniform. He released a breath and his shoulders relaxed. The tension in his body dispersed. "I think my dancing days are over."

She laughed, and it was honest and comfortable. It always was between them. "You did good." She patted his shoulder. "You were extra smooth when you almost took out the musician. Such a catch, Gideon."

He laughed it off. "How is guard life?" he asked her. "I am proud of you, you know. You never give up in your crusade to make it known that women are equal to men."

She laughed again, this time a little flush in her cheeks. "Oh, Gideon, women are not equal to men. Therefore, my efforts have been in vain. I was never trying to show the world that women are equal, but that we are superior." Her chin tilted proudly as a zestful smile brightened her face. She was beautiful in a feral way that men didn't know how to handle. Even the hunters in the clan felt intimidated by her.

"Yes," Gideon agreed. "Yes, you are superior." He stood beside her, taking a drink of his ale and letting it wash down old memories of them being together. "Not drinking tonight?"

"Nope," was all she said. And in the way that she held herself, he knew it was because of her newest responsibilities. Gods, she even had her hands behind her back.

He leaned in, bumping his shoulder to hers. "You know you have nights off, don't you? This being one of them."

Her eyes were immediately on his face. "You forget I am not a warrior of Thorin, but a wolf of Vanadey," she said in that wild way she always had to bite back. "I don't follow the same rules as you. Plus, I don't want to mess up again."

Again?

Gideon made the wise choice not to question her on that.

Breighly's brow pulled together, and her features twisted. Gideon knew the look. She was young when he last saw it lingering on her face. Breighly felt guilty. She blamed herself for her mother never returning. She blamed herself for being too much, even as a cub. It wasn't true, but there was no way of getting through her armour. And she was blaming herself for something now.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You are not going to mess up," he reassured her. "You were born to fight, to be in the position you are."

Her teeth gnawed at her lip. "I am glad you think so, Giddy." She smiled, and her hand came up to touch his.

Gideon couldn't help the eyeroll if he tried. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

She bumped her hip into him. "What have I told you about telling me not to call you that? Not going to happen."

He did his best not to chuckle, but it happened.

Giddy. He laughed to himself as he watched the dance floor, his eyes constantly trying to find the auburn banner that was gracefully whirling around.

"Do you like like her?" Breighly asked, leaning in closer.

Gideon's gaze snapped to her face. "Who?"

The wolf tutted. "The earth witch you are keeping an eye on as she dances with that strapping Fae."

He didn't like the way Breighly said that. Was the Fae that attractive?

Unable to answer, he watched as Sybil spun underneath the Fae's arm. As he caught her, his hands landed on her waist and he pulled her closer, bringing her into his chest. A spark ran between them as their gaze locked.

A twinge tightened in Gideon's heart, and a streak of something unfamiliar rose from the depths of who he was.

Breighly laughed beside him. "Looks like you better hurry up and make up your mind if you do. Look at the brawny muscle on that Fae guard. Oaaaffff." She let out a dramatic sigh as she fanned herself. "And he's just touched the small of her back. How could a girl resist him?"

Gideon drank the full jug of ale in one go, his heart thumping against his ribs.

"Give me that, you idiot." Breighly snatched the jug from his hand. "If you don't go and rescue her, smack your lips to hers, and show her the best night of her life, I will, dumpling head." She paused, sizing him up before she looked back to the dancefloor. "But you never know, Fae-boy might get there before me, considering the size of his thighs and the fact that he is holding her like he might—"

Gideon threw a hand up. "By the Gods! Don't finish that sentence. Okay, okay, I am going."

A victorious smile slashed across her berry-coloured lips. "Good boy." She reached up and patted his forehead with her palm. Hard. "It's about Gods-damned time."

Just as Gideon geared up to head over and interrupt Sybil's dance, a terrible scream broke through the room. He didn't have to guess who it was; a Blacksteel knew the screams of another Blacksteel. A rush of hunting adrenaline coursed through Gideon's body, like it always did when he was about to slay a demon. He turned and ran toward the screams.

Yet, he saw no members of the Dark Army. He saw Arlo Stryker on the floor, holding Kellen in his arms, who looked painted white, and his eyes were glazed with a bleached coating.

"Kellen," Arlo cried in panic. "Wake up, Kellen. Please."

Gideon, being trained to feel demonic presences, scanned the room again, fearing that he had missed something. Torin was also in a battle stance, still hovering over his brother, a small sword unsheathed at his side.

As Arlo held his head, Kellen began twisting in his arms, writhing as he spoke in an ancient tongue. A crowd began to gather around them, and screams of panic and whispers began circling.

Gideon had slain things that the normal person couldn't even bear to conjure up in a nightmare, but this was the most sinister thing he had ever witnessed.

"Who's doing this to him?" Gideon shouted at Torin.

"If I knew, would I be standing here instead of ripping out their fucking hearts?" Torin spat back, and that's when Gideon saw fear in Torin's eyes. He had no idea what was happening.

"Is it magic?" he heard someone whisper.

"Let me through," his mother said, parting the crowd. "Let me through."

"Stand back," Torin commanded. "All of you. Move back."

Everyone obeyed instantly, and for the first time, Gideon witnessed his brother's power as the commander. A shiver crept over his body. Not out of fear, but out of respect for him. The same blood that ran in Gideon's veins ran in Torin's, yet at times they couldn't be more different. He was a leader, his superior, and Gideon had no issue with stepping into line for him.

Naya broke through the crowd, closely followed by Rhea, and they both hurried to Kellen's side.

"Cover him," Naya hollered as she rested a hand on his head.

Torin moved first and then Gideon, blocking the crowd's view of the youngest Blacksteel and what was happening. Unexpectedly, Emara cast a rush of air around them, whirling like a pool, giving them a hint of privacy.

Emara knelt too, all three women talking and whispering. They could have been chanting for all he knew; Gideon couldn't make it out for the buzzing in his ears and the pumping of his blood. Arlo rose to stand beside the brothers, unable to help the witches aid Kellen. Arlo's normally cheerful face was frozen with worry, his body ridged.

"He will be okay," he threw the comment to the Stryker Clan member. "I know he will be."

"Is he dying?" Gideon heard one person from the crowd ask. Torin clearly heard it too as he swivelled to face the swirling wind.

"No one is dying here tonight," he growled, and the crowd that stood behind the protective element pressed back, feeling his wrath.

"We need to move him to the infirmary," Naya called out, pulling the brothers' attention back to where the witches kneeled on the floor. Kellen was still unresponsive, but no longer screaming. Although he was no longer talking in an ancient tongue, he was panting, his face screwed up like pain had taken hold of his body.

Arlo moved first to help the witches lift him, but Emara placed out a hand, stopping him. "I will move him if Naya can help keep her hand on him to steady his heart rate. If I wrap my element of air around him, he cannot hurt himself or anyone else. We don't know what is going on in his mind."

Everyone looked at Torin for approval. "Do as she says."

Gideon watched as Emara stood, raising her palms and chanting softly. The wind around them all dispersed and moved into the shape of a ribbon to hug around Kellen's body. Her magic was so controlled now, especially her air, and it swelled around them like a blanket.

Kellen's body hovered from the ground, and Emara's gentle magic started weaving around his body like silk, ensuring no harm would come to him in his cocoon of air. A soft breeze lifted him higher as she moved her wrist, and Naya joined hands with Rhea whilst they both kept one on Kellen.

Whatever they were doing was working. Kellen began to soften and calm.

But none of that explained what had just happened to his brother, and Gideon needed answers.