Forty-Three Kaden

“Another?”

My eyes snapped up. The bartender’s spiked hair stuck out to one side, his pointed ears riddled with rings and chains. I nodded and looked around the loud bar. It was crowded, filled with laughter and a mix of beings, but the seats on either side of me remained empty.

I glanced at the door just as the bartender set the glass in front of me. I nodded my thanks and picked it up, bringing it to my cheek. The ice-cold glass dulled the ache from that damn gauntlet. Maybe I should go back and gut Vincent, but I knew Mera would have a fit if I did.

Mera. I sighed. Camilla was right about one thing. She wanted power, she always had, but they saw her as a monster, not like Isaiah or me.

A door slammed nearby, the sound echoing through my soul and stirring up memories best left in the past.

“You can’t do this!” I screamed, but his power was far too strong. “You can’t lock us in this prison.”

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do. You knew better, both of you did, yet here I am, cleaning up a mess that will result in war,” Unir snapped back.

“Then let us help fix it,” I said. “This is not a solution.”

Unir held no remorse as he squared his shoulders and gave Isaiah and me a firm, blank stare. “To show mercy to one would be to show it to all. In this, I cannot.”

I ran forward but was stopped by a barrier and slammed back. “Father!” But it was too late. Unir pushed his hands forward, and runes formed of silver light flared to life on the floor and ceiling.

“You do this, and I will make you suffer,” I vowed, my voice as broken as my heart.

“That is an idle threat. You will never leave this place to follow through,” Unir said. His eyes glowed silver, and a misshapen rock slid into place, its jagged pieces fitting against the edges of the cell like a lock. With one final snap, it closed, sealing us in. I stayed there banging on it for hours, days, months. I didn’t remember. Isaiah cried at my side, blaming himself.

I picked him up by his arm. “Hey, look at me.” He didn’t, and I shook him. “Look at me, Isaiah!” His bloodshot eyes met mine. “This is not your fault. He is a cruel, cold man, okay? None of this is your fault.”

I pulled him into an embrace as he sobbed. “You don’t hate me too?”

I shook my head. “No, never.”

He’d locked us in the realm we used to run with vile beasts and creatures he deemed beneath him. Like them, we were nothing but inconveniences to him. So, we had built our own home from the ground up in that prison realm, and it had turned our hearts as jagged and brutal as the landscape. He never came back, never checked on us. I knew he had replaced us with that squealing runt of a child that had been born.

Unir had never cared and had used us as weapons until we’d outlived our usefulness. Once we were no longer needed, he’d tossed us aside without an ounce of care. That was when hate bloomed in my heart and the moment I had grown into a man. I sat on that throne in Yejedin, vowing, above all else, to make him suffer in ways he’d only dreamed of.

I spent years with Isaiah, training the prisoners we could, readying them for the war I craved. It wasn’t until the world shook and fractured that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that one of our siblings loved us. She had cared enough to punch her way through our prison to save us. Nismera made it possible. She cared, and she would have our loyalty until we were ashes and the realms burned.

The seat next to me creaked as Isaiah sat. The bar had gone deathly quiet. He and his lethal reputation were well known here, and it didn’t help he was wearing that damn dragonbane armor, either.

The bartender stepped forward, and I could smell the fear leaking from him. “Would you like the same, sir?”

Isaiah smiled and nodded before turning to me. “I was looking for you. Elianna said you stormed into the city, and I thought of this place.”

“Hmm, it seems Elianna is paying far too much attention to me.”

“What happened to your face?” he asked.

I groaned and waved off his question. “Doesn’t matter. Learned anything else?”

The bartender brought his drink back and then scurried away. Isaiah took a sip before placing his glass down. “Only that Vincent and a small unit are heading to one of her prisons to collect more prisoners, it seems. Nothing else. The Eye has been quiet.”

“Everyone is terrified of Nismera,” I said, lowering my glass back to the bar and running my thumb along the rim.

“Yeah.” Isaiah leaned forward. “They just don’t know her as we do.”

I scoffed. “They praise Unir as a hero, but he locked his very sons away for centuries, tossing us aside when that fucking brat was born. Nismera was the only one who gave a shit. She saved us. She broke through a realm for us, yet . . .” I stopped, raising the glass to my lips and taking a drink. “I hope she burns this world of the old gods. I hope no one even remembers their godsdamn names.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Isaiah asked. “I knew being back would stir old memories, brother, but we’re not there anymore. We’re free.”

He’d hit far too close to a nerve that still felt exposed and raw. Isaiah spoke of freedom, but my mind and soul still felt trapped there. Even though fresh air filled my lungs and heat did not mar my skin, a part of me was still waiting to be saved.

“You know I will protect you no matter what, right?” I said, lowering my glass. I didn’t look at him, but I felt his eyes on me.

His hand clasped my shoulder tightly. “I know, you always have.”

“War is coming, Isaiah. We need to be prepared.”