Chapter 32

Chapter

Thirty-Two

SAGE

" W e're here," Killian whispers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine.

We're in an open, oval-shaped vessel—more like a boat from back on Earth but sleek, black, and motor-powered. The captain is in a small cabin controlling the vessel, while the rest of us sit in a circular seating arrangement at the back. It should be comfortable, but my knees are bouncing uncontrollably, refreshing with the air rushing through my hair.

I'm too busy staring at the enormous island we're approaching to notice much else. My mouth might be hanging open. We're passing mountainous sheer cliffs that run along the pebbly beach like a stone wall, a fortress around the kingdom. The tops of the cliffs are jagged, and what I hate most about them is how much they resemble my vision of Howler on fire.

Nyko's got his hand on my knee to stop it from jumping up and down, offering me a crooked smile, a gesture that has me softening against him.

"My heart's going so fast," I whisper. "Maybe I should have practiced my magic or something?"

Wolfe, who's on Killian's side, leans in, his hand reaching for mine.

"That's the thing… each of our abilities is so unique that even the way they come to us is special. It's something that can't be taught. But that's why you have us and them." He raises his chin to the ten guards at the front of the boat, hunkered down—monstrous beasts, fierce and looking like they could tear you in half with their bare hands. Animalistic, hairy, clawed, and with horns. Wolfe told me a large group of warriors were also in the water, approaching the kingdom, hidden out of sight. Should things go terrible on our arrival, we'll have backup.

"I'm really nervous," I admit.

"We all are," Killian replies.

Wolfe squeezes my hand, and Nyko has his arm around my back.

As we come around a curve on the land, we approach a break in the endless cliff wall with a grand entrance carved out of stone. An oversized arched entryway is high up on the stone wall, filled with a waterfall that crashes down into the ocean. Above it stands a stone statue of an oversized crown, glinting with jewels and two swords crossing through it. Behind it is another arch with more water spraying down behind it.

On the left-hand side, there's a curved set of stairs made of stone that leads to a doorway. Two guards stand above it on a platform, lanky things with six thin legs that remind me too much of bugs but a thousand times larger and more terrifying. There's greenery growing around the entrance.

I swallow hard.

Suddenly, I'm feeling less confident about this mission. Even dressed in pants with hidden pockets for blades, a tight shirt, and leather straps on my arms hiding tiny blades, I still worry.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for this," I whisper.

"We're here now… no turning back." Nyko rubs my back. "Just remember that dream and what's at risk."

I glance at him, the strength behind his gaze grounding me. He's right. Gone is the time to be afraid. I'm no longer the girl I was back in Nightingale Village.

"You're right," I say, more to convince myself than anyone else.

We dock at the wooden pier and disembark. The closer we get to the entrance, the heavier I breathe. Pebbles crunch underfoot, and there are no enemy guards rushing at us, only the two standing tall over us, studying our every movement.

Killian steps beside me, his presence a steadying force. "Just breathe."

I nod, trying to follow his advice, but my mind keeps drifting back to the vision. The screams, the flames, the devastation. I shake my head, attempting to dispel the images. Focus , I tell myself. Focus on the now.

Fear still lurks, waiting to pounce.

My three monsters stand tall, not showing a sign of being worried. The guards with us remain close, vigilant, and there's comfort in having them.

We stop at the base of the stone steps, the sound of the waterfall splashing nearby. The guards above the doorway don't move, their eyes studying our group. My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself to stand tall.

One of the guards steps forward on the platform, his beady eyes locking on us with a chilling focus.

"King Bren has been expecting you. Approach the door," he growls, the sound echoing off the stone.

Killian leads the way, his steps confident. Wolfe and Nyko flank me, the guards at our rear. Their closeness is reassuring, but my nerves come from what happens once we speak with my father.

As we climb the wide, ancient stone steps to the kingdom's entrance, I recall the three visions I experienced—the kingdom how it once appeared in its beauty, the destruction, and a future I'm hoping won't come to pass.

It makes me wonder if those nightmares I experienced growing up were my monster side calling for my home world, for me to return to Blight where I belonged. But what about my mother? I belong with her on Earth, too.

Sighing, I push those thoughts aside.

The sun is a relentless blaze overhead. Glancing at Wolfe and Nyko, I try to draw on their calm, but it's hard. Wolfe's arm tight around my waist is the only thing that feels stable. Nyko, with his smirk, seems like he's ready to face down anything.

"Stay by my side, okay?"

"Of course," I answer, as I have no intention of leaving their sides.

Before I can gather my thoughts, we reach the top of the steps, and the heavy door creaks open. It's slow, making my heart beat faster.

Then they're there—guards, if you can call them that. They're out of a nightmare, all too real—oversized heads, horns like spears, and eyes… too many eyes, all of them calculating. They're not just looking at us; they're sizing us up, figuring out how to easily crush us underfoot.

Grinding my teeth, I hold still.

The guards finally step aside, faces unreadable. As they clear the path, a figure approaches from the dimness of the dark passage behind them.

My breath lodges in my lungs.

Is that him?

Violet eyes are the first thing to catch my attention. He has a round face and bone structure too similar to mine to ignore the similarities.

It's him…

My father.

King Bren.

The monster of true nightmares. What did my mother see in him?

He's in human form, dressed in a dark robe that absorbs the light, one shoulder slumped lower than the other, white hair pushed off his face. My stomach knots further.

"It's been a long time, Wolfe," he states in a tone echoing around us. "And I think it's about time to meet after all these years."

Wolfe clenches his jaw, a growl burning in his chest.

My father's attention moves to me, and I'm struggling, facing the man who is supposed to be my dad. I try to steady my shaking hands, clenching them into fists at my sides. The emotions swell inside me. My heart races with an aching sorrow. It feels like my throat is closing up, choked with words I can't voice. All the years of wondering, of imagining who he might be, and now here he is, just a few feet away. The urge to scream at him, to unleash all the questions and hurt, is almost overwhelming. Yet, here I am, struggling to swallow down the lump in my throat, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

His mouth pulls into a taut smile, and he knows who I am instantly.

"Wolfe told me he had found you, my child, Sage, but I didn't believe it… until now." His tone is gruff, as if he's been chewing on rocks, but low and commanding.

"That's me," I manage to say nervously.

"I owe you a world of gratitude for bringing her to me," he states to Wolfe. "Your kindness won't go unnoticed."

He reaches his hand out toward me, palm facing up, rings on each finger. "Come, daughter, we have so much to catch up on." Despite his gesture of welcoming us, his gaze doesn't hide the coldness behind them. I don't move toward him.

Wolfe curls an arm around my back, drawing me against his side.

I stand rooted to the spot, my heart beating against my rib cage.

Wolfe's arm tightens around me. "We didn't come all this way to simply hand her over," he asserts.

The King's smile falters. "Then what do you want?" he demands, the bridge between his eyes creasing.

My response pours out of me immediately, like it's been dying to burst out. "I'm here to claim my rightful place," I declare with a surprisingly steady voice. "As your daughter and as an heir to your throne."

Wolfe steps forward, his posture menacing. "You need to understand that Sage is our fated mate, Bren," he states firmly. "And that alone grants us rights here, including claims to succession. We're not here to fight but to assert what's rightfully ours under the laws you uphold."

The King's face tightens, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You're playing games," he hisses. "You're wasting my time."

The air charges with tension, skating down my arms.

"We request a King's Oath," Wolfe adds, and I have no idea what that is. "As King, you know the significance of this request. It grants us safe passage and a fair hearing, then you must acknowledge our request. A privilege you stole from my father all those years ago. Now's your chance to do the right thing for a change." His posture curls slightly forward as though it takes every restraint not to lunge at the King.

My father regards us with a steely gaze. "Let's not be hasty, son. Your claims need verifying before any oaths are sworn. I need to verify her true lineage and if she is indeed your mate."

Wolfe's muscles tense beside me. This is something none of us discussed or expected. But of course, my asshole father is delaying things by insisting on proving who I am.

"Then let's do it," Killian commands through clenched teeth.

The King's lips twitch, the growing sign of his irritation. "Bring them to the verification chamber," he orders the guards. His eyes lock with mine again, piercing and icy. "If you are who you claim to be, come peacefully. Prove your worth, and I shall honor the King's Oath. My honor demands no less."

He pulls back, his cold dismissal hanging in the air as he leans heavily on a cane that materializes from the shadows. It's clear he's weaker than he wants to let on, his limp noticeable as he retreats.

Suddenly, the guards are upon us, their movements swift. "This way," one barks, gesturing with a gnarled bug arm toward an arched doorway leading into the kingdom.

The air grows cooler as we enter the passage, the dim light from the torches flickering against the damp stone walls, casting eerie shadows that dance just out of reach. We've entered a corridor, and there's no sight of the kingdom yet.

I'm terrified that we're walking into a trap, that my father will kill my true mates. With each step, shivers race up my arms.

Killian's grip on my hand tightens. The shuffle of our footsteps is the only sound that fills the heavy silence. Every step takes us deeper into the bowels of the corridor, away from the light and into the heart of darkness. And the deeper my fear grows.

The corridor leads us into another doorway that opens into a large room with stone walls, lit torches on the wall, high ceilings, and barred windows far above. The air is damp and cold, sending a shiver through me. This isn't just any room; it's a damn holding area.

I spin around, all of us inside, but not the King or his guards.

A heavy door clangs shut behind us, and panic clamps around my chest.

"Fuck, please tell me we didn't just walk into a prison?" My breath catches in my throat as the reality sets in.

But Wolfe leans closer. "It'll be all right," he murmurs, his presence comforting. "We're not trapped here. This is just a formality, a show of strength."

"It is?"

Killian nods, his jaw set. "They use these rooms for unexpected guests to ascertain if they are safe to permit into their kingdom."

"We have one on the vessel, too," Nyko adds. "I've been known to find myself in it when I drink too much." He chuckles while Killian rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm the one who drags your ass down there when no one else can control you."

Nyko's hand finds mine. He winks at me, and I somehow manage to smile. Our guards position themselves near the door as I push down the rising panic.

"We did the right thing coming here, right?" I find myself saying, staring at their serious expressions, not feeling much better.

"We follow through now," Wolfe notes. "We've come too far to back down."

A knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. The waiting is the hardest part, and I keep replaying in my mind the eagerness of my father to get his hands on me. That part terrifies me.

Then, without warning, the door swings open, and I flinch around.

The room suddenly feels smaller, crowded, as bug-like guards enter on their six spindly legs, ushering in a young woman.

Her pale green eyes, matching her hair, glance around the room, landing on me. She studies me harshly, her gaze hardening. Pale green scales down her arms and neck shimmer under the dim light. The King gestures to the woman beside him, her eyes haunted, yet she smirks at me, leaving me covered in shivers.

"Sage, meet your half sister, Elara," he declares, and the floor beneath me might as well crack open.