Keres didn’t stop moving until they were through the arena, past the gladiators quarters, and into a private study that could only be accessed through a hidden staircase. She closed and locked the door behind them. Her face ashen as she did so.
“We only have a few minutes until he arrives,” she warned them.
“Who?”
But she didn’t respond. Tears came to her eyes, flowing freely down her cheeks. She scooped Kerrigan up into her arms and began to sob.
“My child. My baby. Oh, look at you. Just look at you.”
Kerrigan froze, remembering the reunion she’d so desperately wanted with a mother she’d feared dead for so long. Somehow, none of it was right. None of it how it should be.
Keres must have realized and pulled back, swiping at her eyes. “My apologies. You don’t know me for who I am. Your father likely never told you. I know how you ended up here. I saw what happened, but still only parts of it. I’m sure you never expected to find me like this.”
“No,” Kerrigan agreed. “But I hoped.”
Keres’s gaze shot to her. “You did?”
“I’d thought you were dead for eighteen years. When Kivrin told me you were alive …”
“Kivrin,” Keres said with a deep moan of agony. “And you don’t know if he lives.”
“I don’t.”
“He’s strong,” Keres said. She was speaking to herself, as if to justify something. And Kerrigan could see it all over her. “You loved him.”
“I did,” she said softly. “Do, to be honest. I’ve known no one like him in my life. It was why I had to release him to return home. It’s why I gave him you.” She shook her head. “We will have time for such discussions later. He’s coming, and he’s not going to be happy that I defied him. I have that power in public, but in private …”
A pounding began on the door. The handle rattled. Kerrigan glanced at Keres, and she saw real fright there.
“Keres, open the damn door.”
She shuddered at the sound of his voice. Her eyes slipped to Kerrigan. “I had to come when I heard that it might be you. I had to. Just know that.”
Kerrigan didn’t know what to say. Why did her mother seem so frightened of her husband when she had seemed so in control? Of course she’d hidden Kerrigan because Vulsan wanted her dead, but Kerrigan had never considered what that would be like for Keres. Not until the door burst open, Vulsan shattering the small lock that had given them their five minutes of privacy.
“You dare humiliate me like that in public?” he roared.
Keres let out a tinkling laugh. “Humiliate you? Of course not, darling!”
“Don’t give me that darling bullshit.”
He stomped forward through the open door and pushed Keres hard against the desk. He was a hulking figure and towered over her, even at Keres’s considerable height. Yet Keres looked so small next to him. So small physically at least because their magic wasn’t even. Keres was more powerful. It was easy to sense that just from looking at them.
Then, why was she acting meek around him? She could stop this. There was something Kerrigan was missing from their dynamic.
“Two Daijan are better than one,” Keres said with that same insipid smile. “Don’t you agree?”
“It was my fight. Mine. You weren’t even supposed to be here. One of them was supposed to die. Not both be bond to you.”
Ah. So there it was. Vulsan had wanted the Daijan bond for himself.
“Now, really, you’re making it out to be a whole thing, my love,” she teased, running a lacquered nail down his cheek. Forced. So forced. “I didn’t come here to steal your thunder. I came at your bequest, remember?”
“I invited you at the beginning of the tournament.”
“I was away on business.”
“That you refuse to tell me about,” he reminded her.
“When He Who Reigns calls, I do as I am told.” Her voice turned suddenly stern. “As do we all.”
Vulsan looked half-ready to pounce on her. But he just clenched his jaw and balled his hands harder into fists. “Fine. That doesn’t excuse you from ending my fight early.”
“Did you not see what was going to happen?” Keres asked him as if he weren’t fully cognizant.
“The match was nearly ended.”
“And then your pet, Iris, loosened his leash.”
Keres threw her hand at Fordham, who hadn’t moved from his position since Vulsan had entered the room. He was frozen like a statue with shadows curled around his fists. Kerrigan barely had to glance at him to know that he was moments away from releasing his abilities and ripping Vulsan’s head off his shoulders.
Vulsan, thankfully, didn’t spare him a glance. “So what?”
“So, he has shadow abilities. That’s how he got away, and he was going to take her away too. They were both going to vanish.”
“They wouldn’t have gotten through the magical barriers I put up.”
“Then, he would have jumped them just inside the arena, and they would have run. I could sense his intentions.” She arched an eyebrow. “Unless you’re questioning my abilities now too.”
“No,” he growled. “Just your use of them without discussing it with me and ending my fight and stealing my Daijan.” He leaned further into her personal space, and Keres shrank back. His smile grew the less space she took up. “It almost seemed like you wanted to spare their lives.”
“Why would I care about two of your little gladiators?”
This time, Vulsan did fully look at Kerrigan. “She looks awfully like you, Keres dear.”
Keres gave another perfect laugh. “Are we going to be upset over every girl with red hair and freckles?”
But Vulsan moved away from Keres, giving her the space she desperately needed. He stalked around Kerrigan like a predator debating where the best place to draw blood was.
“She wears Doma colors. Calls herself a Doma. And when I saw her in the streets the first time, I thought …” He trailed off. He flicked a piece of her red hair out of her face. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Who could she possibly be?”
“She has his features,” Vulsan said, low and menacing.
Keres arched an eyebrow. “Whose features?”
He pointed to Kerrigan’s ears. “She’s Fae-touched. You remember him. The Daijan that escaped.”
She scrunched up her face as if she had no idea what he was referring to. “Who escaped?”
“The Fae,” Vulsan snapped. “She’d be about old enough to be yours. How old are you, girl?”
Kerrigan held her breath at his scrutiny. Pieces were falling together. Kivrin had been a Daijan in their household. Keres had released Kivrin from her service when she found out she was with child and delivered Kerrigan to him after she was born without Vulsan knowing. But even his suspicions brought Vulsan a world away to make sure to leave no stone unturned.
Lying was her only safety. “Twenty-two.”
“See,” Keres said. She pushed off from the desk and rested her hand on Vulsan’s shoulder. “Can we put this old argument to rest? She is no more my offspring than anyone else. We have been trying for … many years. Don’t you think I would be with child—with your child—if I’d had someone else’s child already?”
Vulsan shoved Kerrigan backward hard enough to knock her into Fordham, who caught her easily. She could feel a bruise blossoming from the force of his attack. Her heart beat rapidly, trying to keep up with the fear that she was no match for him at present. Keres could only do so much.
“It is too coincidental,” Vulsan argued. “And I do not like coincidences.”
“There is no coincidence. She doesn’t even have magic, except that which I provide her. She’s no threat. She’s nothing.”
Vulsan took one more look at Kerrigan before dismissing her. “You will come to my bed tonight,” Vulsan ordered Keres.
“Of course, love.” And somehow, she sounded sincere.
“We will try again.”
“With pleasure.”
Vulsan stepped toward the doorway but stopped before going through. “What will you do with them? They need careful handling. I could … take one for you.”
“Rest assured, I know how to handle a Daijan. My father taught me well,” she said easily. “Don’t concern yourself with them. They’ll be in order soon enough.”
“Fine.”
Then, Vulsan strode out of the room, taking all the air with him. They remained silent until they could no longer hear the stomp of his feet down the corridor or hear any of his entourage as they scurried after him.
Even then, Keres held a finger to her lips. She ushered them toward her, locking hands with them in a circle.
She mouthed, I’m sorry, to Fordham, who furrowed his brow.
Then, his shadows crept into the room. They were small, curling around his ankles at first before encompassing much of the space. His eyes were wild with alarm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was happening. But Keres just shook her head. She was doing it. She was controlling his powers. They belonged to him, and yet he could do nothing as she directed them. He struggled unsuccessfully to release himself from the circle, and she shot him a sad look before the entire room went black as night. Kerrigan could see nothing at all.
An uncomfortable tug pulled in her stomach. She gasped as everything disappeared around her. The next second, she was on hard ground again. Her legs buckled underneath her as the shadows disappeared.
She dropped to one knee and took in the palatial surroundings. The open, towering, columned windows that led to a stunning green garden. The enormous bed, complete with gauzy curtains and piles of feathered pillows. The hard tiles had been covered with overlapping rugs so thick that she sank into them. Tapestries hung on the walls, and sculptures were displayed ornamentally around the room large enough for a ballroom.
“Where … where are we?” Kerrigan croaked.
This time, Keres finally smiled, warm and welcoming. “My home.”