Chapter 40

Joseph Kelley

S till no response from Noemie.

Still he ruminated over his son's betrayal in mating the bitch.

Still no headway in any of his plans.

It wasn't often that Joseph was frustrated with his progress. Taking over Nora in a short three months was something to be celebrated, yet he'd hit a wall. His plans halted. And conferring with the journals was fruitful in knowledge but scant on useful information on how to reproduce Thomas Golden's results. Which is what had led him to go out into the grounds behind Golden Castle to test out some of his theories… theories which were, at present, proving to be fucking useless.

The language within the founder's confounded journals was couched in double speak and hidden meanings. Had anyone but him picked up the volumes, they'd have taken the words within at face value.

Pages and pages were dedicated to seemingly mundane matters. On the surface, they were easily overlooked. Details about the harvest, residents of the island, weather patterns, and the like. However, there were certain repeated phrases that seemed oddly placed, which is what clued him into the importance of the messages and had him looking more deeply into them, scrutinizing each and every word. Thomas professed in his earliest journal that he'd written them to be read by those who came after him, to take up his "noble work" should he ever leave. So, Joseph deduced, he'd have wanted to obscure things enough to throw off humans. But the islands' founder was not as smart as he'd thought he was—Joseph had figured out very quickly what the daft bastard was trying to disguise.

On and on, the old coot had spoken about the necessity of understanding the heart of the island, being in harmony with the small creatures who came before him, and how to shape the islands to best fit the needs of his people. It was within these lessons Joseph knew there was some hidden message. So, he'd buried himself in making notes and theorizing what he thought each part meant.

He'd started with an attempt at altering the island, as he would never lower himself by going to the fucking forest fairies, brownies, and whatever-the-fuck-else skulked about in the darkness of the woods. They were called "lesser" for a reason.

Shaping the land to his whims should have been easy enough. Thomas Golden had done it when he'd created Golden Castle from the red volcanic rock, and when he'd created the bay where the boats docked, if his journals were to be believed. The lingering effects of Golden's tinkering could still be seen everywhere, and if one were to compare the maps of the present-day Golden Isles with the hand-drawn ones made by Thomas, it was more than obvious he'd been liberal with his improvements. Yet nothing Joseph did would take. His efforts only served to exhaust him.

Being on his hands and knees was humiliating enough, but it was the best way Joseph could feel the energy of the island itself. With his own power, he grasped at the wisps he assumed was the island's natural well of power, trying to pull them to him and take control, but every time, they slipped from his grip. Sweat dripped from his brow as he pressed his hands harder into the dirt where the islanders used to build their bonfire for their stupid Founder's Day. The magic from that festival still clung to the grounds here, and theoretically, it should have supplemented his own powers, but nothing happened. Again and again, his attempts to bend the island to his will were in vain. With a frustrated shout, he punched the dirt and pushed himself to stand.

If only I had that fucking talisman, then this fucking island would do as I willed it to.

Gods did it chap his hide that he couldn't get Rose to come to him, even after he'd nearly caught her out with his son. No matter how close he came to Mariana, it was as if she were deaf to him. Screaming into the void would probably yield better results than what he was currently doing. He'd had to concede that it was a waste of his power, which left him firmly at square one with her.

Again.

Though Kemmer's seal on the hole in his aura had held—barely—after the night Rose and Will started their mating, it was clear to Joseph that it wouldn't hold forever. The edges were cracked, power leaking through, causing him to hemorrhage magic at a faster rate than ever before. He'd required more time in the ocean to replenish himself. It pissed him off to be so weak when he should be at the height of his power.

I should kill her for daring to defy me, mate bond with my traitorous son be damned.

As he trudged down to Bryony Beach, Joseph lost control of his claws, their sharp points slipping from his nail beds. He was going to have to talk to her directly about what she'd done to him. Grill her about where the talisman was. If he had to torture her to get that information, he would. He would rip her mind to shreds if he had to.

This ends today. What she withholds from me will be fucking MINE.