Brokk slipped through the shadows of the woods as he pursued the deer making its way through the trees ahead of him. Normally, he was content with feasting on the blood bags Lexi stashed in her fridge, but it had been a long time since he hunted in any way, and his darker nature sought an outlet.
His dark fae side and vampire side had both been denied since he’d taken over watching Lexi. He didn’t resent it; he would do anything for his brothers—or, at least, he would have done anything for all his brothers before the war.
Now, he would still do anything for his brothers… within reason. He would do anything for Cole. They’d chosen the same side and stood by their father; they had shared many of the same losses and defeats and grown closer because of it.
He now considered Cole his best friend, but they were never close growing up or as young adults because of their age difference. They were friendly, joked with each other, and shared experiences, but not in the same way he had with his brothers who were closer in age.
Five of those brothers chose to fight against their father, and the other two, who remained on their side, perished during the war. That only left him and Cole, and they’d bonded during their many days of endless battles and strategy planning. They also spent many nights drinking and prowling for women while they blew off steam.
He had no doubt Cole would die for him, and he would do the same. Cole could be dying for him and the rest of the fae right now, and he would have no way of knowing. The last time he heard from his brother was when Cole sent him a crow to let him know he couldn’t find Malakai.
He couldn’t think about Cole not surviving the trials. The two of them had done things neither of them expected or enjoyed doing. They’d fought for the bastard who killed their father, all while trying to figure out how to destroy him, and they’d failed.
They both lived with the guilt of that failure. But they also lived with the knowledge that while the Lord wasn’t hunting them, they could do more than either of their brothers to destroy him.
A part of him hated Orin and Varo as much as he loved them. If he found them, he would protect them as his father would have, but he’d prefer to have nothing to do with them. They chose to break off when they could have stayed, and they were a big part of the reason his father was dead.
Taking a break from hunting the deer, Brokk leaned against a tree and drew the shadows around him. So far, there had been no threat to Lexi and Sahira, but he didn’t know how long that would last. Once Cole got through the trials, Lexi would become a much bigger target for all those who would seek to bring down his brother.
And he would not let anything happen to her. He’d already lost too many of his brothers; he would not lose another.
Besides, Lexi was his friend, and despite having been alive for six hundred years, he didn’t have any remaining friends outside his family.
He had considered her father a friend and was glad to call the daughter one too.
Closing his eyes, Brokk tipped his head back and welcomed the warmth of the sun beating down on him. Ever since he learned of his father’s death, a chill had seeped into his bones that he couldn’t quite eradicate.
The chill was more than grief; he hated to admit it, but it was also fear—fear of the unknown, for his brother, and all of them.
The Lord was crazier than they’d all believed. There wasn’t anything that monster wouldn’t do. Which meant all bets were off. Before, there were at least some rules and boundaries.
They were obliterated when the Lord killed the king of the dark fae.
Brokk’s eyes burned as he strove to suppress his sorrow. It was nearly impossible as he recalled the coolness of his father’s fingers brushing the hair back from his forehead before he pulled the covers around him. Once tucked in, his dad would pitch his voice low to regale him with whatever new story he made up.
The stories often consisted of pirates and dragons needing to be slain. The adventures made Brokk giggle. Sometimes, his mother came to visit him, but she was content to live mostly child-free.
Brokk was fine with that. They got along well enough when he saw her, but his father was his rock, and though the king was feared by many, he doted on his sons.
And he also had his brothers. Even without the constant presence of his mother in his life, Brokk felt surrounded by love growing up. Yes, there was a big age difference between him and some of his brothers, but there was always love there.
And now, almost all the love he experienced as a child was gone.
Varo and Orin still lived, but if they did defeat the Lord and somehow regain control of their lives, he wasn’t sure he could forgive them for their role in his father’s death—or Cole’s, if his brother didn’t survive the trials. He was there because of his brothers.
And if something happened to Lexi under his watch, he’d never forgive himself either. While Lexi remained alive, Cole wouldn’t become the cruel, vicious monstrosity Brokk sensed slithering beneath the surface.
If something happened to her, he suspected Cole would become as much of a menace to the realms as the Lord. He’d killed a dragon for their father; what would he do for her?
A roar in the distance drew his attention to the sky. A dragon soared above, tilted its wings, and swooped back toward the smoldering remains of the city in the distance. The dragons only did as the Lord commanded them, but still, he loathed all of them.
Stepping away from the tree, he was about to resume his hunt when the jingle of bits and the stomp of hooves stopped him. He took a step forward as riders approached the manor. The rider at the end flew the Lord’s colors.
“Shit,” he hissed and teleported behind the house.