Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“We killed Magdelana, remember?” I remind them of what no one could have forgotten—of the mage who was the leader of the Argents, those of light magic, and the headmistress of Rathe U. She and the rest of the bullshit ministry that plotted against my family are nothing but ash in the wind now. A fact that their people might not be too happy about. “Who is going to rule over Rathe U now? And what about the murders happening here?”
No one answers at first. Not because they don’t have ideas—but because none of them are good.
Creed clenches his jaw while Knight expresses his irritation by sharply exhaling through his nose. Sinner, of course, just smirks, always the kind of bastard who relishes watching things spiral out of control.
“New year starts in less than a week, in giftless time,” Knight adds flatly. “New blood. Freshly gifted. Half of ’em still shaking from their first vision. The other half hoping they glow in the dark or sprout wings, or whatever wild shit the Argents have been whispering into their ears since birth.”
Sinner cackles and leans forward, tossing his bottle lazily from one hand to the other. “And for once, we’re not the ones getting tossed into the pit with the rest of the softlings. We get to watch. We get to choose. We get to be the ones who tell them what this year is really gonna be like.”
Knight raises a brow. “We’re still being sent back to keep peace.”
Creed nods. “Symbolic presence. Eyes on the ground. Prevent panic. Show unity and make them think we are offering protection to the most important of our kind—their untrained, precious children. That kind of thing.”
“Unity,” Sinner snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it now? The Argents are creaming themselves over the idea. Oh, yay, let’s all cohabitate. Let’s be good little magelets and build bridges between good and evil. Bunch of free-spirited, happily-ever-after-loving hypocrites.”
Creed narrows his eyes. “They’re not all bad.”
Sinner scoffs. “No, just naive. The real fun’s gonna be watching the Stygian young lose their fucking minds when they find out they’re expected to sit next to Argent-borns in their elemental theory classes and smile.”
Knight leans back, arms crossed. “There will be blood. There always is.”
My mouth kicks up in a grin. “Don’t count out some of those Argents. They’re only light magic because they can fuck you hard enough to melt the skin from your bones.”
I shift slightly in my throne, the Leviathan bone beneath me pulsing with that same quiet awareness. I can feel it in the air already. The tension. The spark. The weight of a thousand new sets of footsteps crossing over the veil and stepping into the world of the giftless. Where control is tested and reality checks are served.
This is kind of perfect. Now her presence will serve an even better purpose.
“Looks like the decision’s been made. We’re holding an announcement ceremony,” I say, voice dripping with amusement. “Today.”
Creed arches a brow, slow and suspicious. “Why, dear brother…do you look so excited about that?”
I tilt my head, grin stretching wide. “Because,” I murmur, kicking my boots back off the table and standing, shadows folding over my shoulders like armor. “I’ve got something of my own to announce.”
The weight of what I’m about to do presses against my spine like a blade as I make my way back through the doors.
“And it’s going to be so. Fucking. Good.”
Chapter Five
Legend
Pure anticipation flows through my veins as I wait for the revelation of my little surprise, which waits outside the war room. Currently, the “future of Rathe,” their parents, and a few other powerful figures, mingle among themselves. Bone stemmed glasses hover in small circles every few feet, waiting for the fingers of a gifted to wrap along the stems, and claim it for itself, their drink of choice materializing in the glass the moment they do.
Both hope and caution sit heavy in the air, and the demonic smoke, an inky black shadow of sorts that protects only those of royal blood or deemed worthy, hovers at my brothers’ and my backs, and pulses in warning.
Gifted continue to pour through the portal we opened in the main courtyard of Rathe, allowing more and more to cross into the royal estate. Little by little, the space grows thick with mumbled whispers and restless bodies.
Once the maximum number allowed has been reached, the portal seals itself, leaving the rest of Rathe to listen and watch through projecting across the realm.
As it closes, a pathway carves between us and our people, and every face swivels toward the row of thrones we sit upon.
As they look at us, I’m locked on the platform at the end, the door that has yet to reveal itself.
I’ve purposely delayed her arrival, making her wait for a grand entrance that I know she’ll wish to slay me for. I’ve also created a door just for her. Just for tonight. Took a fuck ton of energy to do it, too.