21. Caine

21

CAINE

The temperature drops several degrees as my father materialises in my room at MistHallow. I don't turn around from gathering my books immediately, taking a moment to steel myself for the inevitable confrontation. Cryos, the Ice Demon King, isn't known for casual visits.

"Dad," I say finally, turning to face him. He stands there in his usual arrogant way. The air around him crystallises, forming delicate patterns of frost on my windows.

"Caine." His voice carries the chill of arctic winds. "You've been avoiding my summons."

I grip my cane tighter, grateful for its solid presence. "I've been busy, in case you had forgotten Violet, her sire and all the shit that has hit the fan lately."

"Hmm. Excuses." His lips curve into what might be a smile, though it never reaches his eyes. It never does. " Running around with Morgan le Fay's heir is more important than your duty to me."

The way he says that makes my spine stiffen. I've heard that tone before, usually right before he unleashed some new test or trial on me during my childhood.

"Violet is my fate," I say carefully, watching his reaction. "She needs support right now. You, on the other hand, do not."

"Support?" He laughs, a sound like cracking ice. "What she needs is guidance. Power like hers shouldn't be left unchecked, untrained. The balance of powers is delicate as it is, never mind throwing this loose cannon into the pot." He moves to my window, looking out over the academy grounds. "She would be safer in the Ice Kingdom, and so would you."

And there it is.

I remember similar conversations from my youth, always about power, always about control. How many times had I heard him say these words while increasing the difficulty of my training until I could barely stand?

Too many to fucking count.

"She's safe here at MistHallow," I counter, though even as I say it, I think of the entity in the library, of Nathaniel's threats, the forest coming alive around her…

"Is she?" He turns back to me, those ancient eyes boring into mine. "A newly turned vampire, heir to one of the most powerful magickal legacies in history, hunted by forces she doesn't understand, and you think this school can protect her?"

Images flash through my mind of the safety of the Ice Kingdom. Violet would not survive there and that isn't any disrespect to her. Remembering myself over ten years ago, standing in the great ice hall as my father created storm after storm for me to control. The burns on my hands that turned black with frostbite when I failed, the frost that would creep up my arms when I succeeded. All in the name of protection, of making me stronger.

"MistHallow has resources," I say. "And she has allies here. She has us."

"Us." He spits the word like it's poison. "What use are you and your friends against the forces gathering around her? You know better than most what real power requires, my son."

Yes, I do know. I remember the isolation, the endless training, the way he would pit me against other young demons to strengthen my weaknesses. I flex my right leg unconsciously, remembering how it had been broken during one such session so severely it took not minutes to heal but days. The bone was sticking out, and dear old dad shoved it back into place without a second thought. My grip tightens on my cane. A necessary evil for containing the power I've been trained within an inch of my life to unleash, but also an old friend who helped me when I needed it the most.

"What exactly is your interest in Violet?"

He waves a dismissive hand, but I notice how he doesn't meet my eyes. "Merely concern for an important magickal asset. Her power could shift the balance of our world. Surely you've sensed it?"

"Asset," I repeat, the word tasting bitter. That's how he always viewed everything—and everyone—in terms of their usefulness, their power. Even his own son.

"The girl has potential beyond measure," my father continues, frost spreading from where his fingers touch my desk. "Raw, untapped power that could reshape our realm. Surely you see that?"

"I see Violet," I say firmly. "Not her power, not her potential. Just her."

He turns to me, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. "Still so sentimental, even after everything I taught you. Tell me, my son, do you really see this girl as your fate? Or are you after her power?"

The question catches me off guard. "That is rich coming from you."

"Answer the question."

I think of Violet's smile, her fierce determination, the way she faces each new challenge with little fear and acceptance. "She is my fate. End of story. Even if she were still a human, or a regular vampire, she would still be mine," I say, using his own diplomatic tone against him. "What concerns me is why you're suddenly so interested in her."

He moves across the room with supernatural grace, each step leaving a trace of ice crystals on the floor. "The Ice Kingdom is a powerful place. We could offer her protection, training, and resources beyond what this academy can provide."

"Like the protection you offered me?" The words slip out before I can stop them, heavy with years of resentment.

His eyes narrow. "Everything I did was to make you stronger."

"You made me into you."

"And?"

He fails to see the problem with that, so I don't even bother. What's the point?

He sighs, a sound like winter wind when I don't answer. "You've grown soft here, surrounded by these weak creatures. Have you forgotten who you are? What you're meant to become?"

"The heir to the Ice Kingdom," I recite dutifully. How many times have those words been beaten into me? How many times had I been reminded of my destiny?

"Then act like it," he snaps, his control slipping for a moment. The temperature plummets, and snow forms in the air. "Bring the girl to us. Help her see where her true path lies."

And just like that… I understand. This isn't about protecting Violet at all. This is about power. About controlling it, harnessing it, just as he's always done. Just as he tried to do with me.

"What aren't you telling me?" I ask, studying his face carefully. "Why this sudden interest in Morgan le Fay's heir? "

He turns back to the window to stare out across the snowy campus grounds.

"The balance is shifting," he says finally. "Old powers are stirring. The Order of the Shadows Descent is just the beginning."

"The beginning of what?"

He faces me again, and for a moment, I see past the mask of the Ice Demon King to something older, something worried. "War is coming, my son. Not like the petty conflicts of recent centuries, but true war, like the days when Morgan herself walked the earth."

"So what? You want Violet on our side, is that it? Under your control."

"Under our protection ," he corrects, but the distinction rings hollow.

I remember my last day in the Ice Kingdom, standing before him with my packed bags. One day, you'll understand what I tried to teach you.

Maybe I do understand better than he knows. I understand how fear can disguise itself as strength, and how control can masquerade as protection. I understand because I've spent years trying to, and yet admittedly failing, unlearn those lessons.

"I won't help you manipulate her," I say firmly. "Violet deserves to choose her own path."

"Choice is a luxury we cannot afford in times like these." His voice hardens. "You think you're protecting her? You're condemning her—and yourself—to be unprepared for what's coming."

"Maybe," I acknowledge. "But at least it will be her choice. Her power, her way. I will never go against her. I will never convince her to do something she doesn't want to or deceive her. She deserves better than that after what Nathaniel did to her."

He moves toward me, and despite myself, I take a slight step back. Old instincts die hard, after all. "Come home," he says, his voice almost gentle. "Both of you. Let me show you what real power can be."

For a moment, I waver. Part of me, the scared, lonely child who only ever wanted his father's approval, wants to say yes. But then I think of Violet, Flint and Thorne. If I take Violet away from them, it will be ripping her soul into shreds. She is not just my fate, but all of ours.

"MistHallow is her home for now," I say quietly. "Where she is, I am. If that changes, I'll be sure to let you know."

His expression hardens, the momentary gentleness freezing over in an instant. "You truly have grown soft."

"No," I correct him. "I've grown stronger. You just can't see the difference."

He studies me for a long moment, and I force myself to meet his gaze. Finally, he nods, though whether in acceptance or resignation, I can't tell.

"When the time comes," he says, "remember that I tried to warn you. Remember that I offered protection."

"I'll remember everything," I promise, thinking of ice caves and broken bones, of endless training and impossible standards. "Every lesson."

He turns to leave, his form already beginning to fade. "The girl's power will draw others, my son. Darker forces than you can imagine. When that happens, remember where true strength lies."

"I already know where it lies," I say to the empty air as he vanishes, taking the unnatural cold with him. "And it's not in your kingdom of ice and isolation."

Something about this visit feels wrong, beyond the usual tension of our interactions. His interest in Violet, his warnings about coming war… there's more to it than he's saying.

My father has always played the long, long game, moving pieces on a board only he could see. The question is: what game is he playing now? More importantly, what role does he expect Violet to play in it?

I grip my cane tighter, feeling the power thrumming through it, waiting to be set free. Whatever he's planning, whatever's really going on, I won't let him do to Violet what he did to me. Some lessons, once learned, are impossible to forget.

And some chains, once broken, can never be reformed.