Fire's Embrace [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 6] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (10 page)

“Do you truly think that?” Sari inquired, so softly Karein almost had trouble hearing him.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Alwyn asked. “I don’t even know anything anymore, so I couldn’t possibly make a rational judgment where Rachen is concerned. But I do know that I hurt someone, and it makes sense that you’d want to keep me from doing it again.”

Hareem saved Karein from answering. “I assure you that you will be treated well and more than fairly,” he said. “We still consider you a member of the Tersain dynasty. We’ll just make sure we take no chances during your stay here.”

Alwyn nodded wordlessly, obviously resigned to accepting whatever they decided. Sage manifested at their side and started to lead Alwyn away.

As he watched Alwyn go, Karein squeezed Sari’s hand tighter. By his side, his brother asked, “Do you feel as awful as I do?”

Karein sighed heavily. “Worse. Overlords, Hareem, I hope there’s another answer to this. I can’t imagine what will happen if Rachen doesn’t find it.”

* * * *

Unlike most of the paranormal species, who chose to build their own settlements away from human ones, sprites based their day to day lifestyle on their power to create illusions. They owned residences in most of the major cities in the world, expanding their area of influence through their ability to blend in. Rachen knew all this, just like he knew that the main residence of the sprites was in London. Similarly, he wasn’t exactly surprised that the sprites sent a delegation to pick him up at the airport.

What did take him aback for about half a second was that the sprites leading the delegation in question were
Pádraig and Britanni Sutharlainn, Caelyn’s parents.

Rachen had been under the impression that Caelyn’s family had fallen from favor after Caelyn’s abandonment of Karein. Then again, taking into account the fact that the Great Krites had obviously supported the attempt on Sari’s life at the hands of Caelyn’s brother, it made sense that things weren’t exactly the way they’d been originally presented.

As he left the plane, Rachen didn’t let any of these questions show. Instead, he pasted a neutral smile on his face and walked toward them, mentally reviewing their reactions upon seeing him. Of course, he could never trust appearances where sprites were concerned—as eloquently proven by the situation—but that only made Rachen more determined to get behind whatever masks these people would be putting up.

When he reached their side, every sprite, including the two leaders, bowed. “Your Highness,” Caelyn’s father greeted him, “it is an honor to be in your presence. We haven’t met. My name is Pádraig Sutharlainn.” Pointing to his wife, he said, “This is my wife, Britanni. We’ve been assigned to guide you during your stay here.”

Rachen wondered if there was any hidden intention behind this choice, but he decided he’d find out soon enough. He also refrained from pointing out that he knew them very well, since at the time of the entire debacle with Caelyn, his soul had been inside Karein, witnessing everything. Either way, he could play the pretend game as well as any sprite.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I appreciate your support, and I hope it is a sign of good things to come.”

The formal reply was exactly the right thing to say and set the tone of the entire conversation. As the group led Rachen out of the airport, Caelyn’s father continued to drone on flattering comments, half of which Rachen didn’t even hear. At one point, his wife piped up, “Of course, whatever you need while you’re here, you only need to tell us.”

“It is unfortunate, but the Great Krites aren’t in the residence right now,” Pádraig said. “But we’ve been given the authority to handle your every demand.”

Ah, so therein lay the gist of the issue. The Krites were doing some damage control and were trying to hold back Rachen’s investigation by throwing the Sutharlainn at him.

It wasn’t not only frustrating, but also impolite and highly irregular, given Rachen’s position. Truth be told, it wasn’t the rudeness that bothered Rachen, but the fact that if the sprites continued to give him trouble, it would take him a while to finish his task. He wanted to return to his mate’s side already. He didn’t have time to play these games.

Rachen wanted to do the whole cloak-and-dagger thing like he’d been asked, but no one could have accused him of being a very patient man. He was, at the very core of his being, a fire dragon. Therefore, he took great pleasure in his reply. “Ah, yes,” he answered with a fake smile. “Caelyn told me you were generally very helpful.”

Britanni released a choked noise, while her husband paled. Rachen widened his eyes in a mock expression of surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s understandably a very painful topic for us,” Britanni replied tightly. Then she started to look confused, and perhaps suspicious. “But…when did you speak to Caelyn?”

She sounded genuinely baffled, and Rachen wondered if she hadn’t found out about Caelyn’s arrival in Draechenburg. That was surprising. Did they still think Caelyn was dead? That made no sense. According to Karein, Iasan Sutharlainn had been told about Caelyn’s survival. Rachen had assumed that Caelyn’s brother had told his parents about it.

If they truly didn’t know, it could be Rachen’s first clue, or perhaps, something he could use to do some digging. But Rachen couldn’t tell for sure. He decided to put it to a little test. “I saw him a few hours ago,” he answered calmly. “He’s living in Draechenburg now. Haven’t you heard from him?”

Britanni stopped walking and stared at him. Rachen met her gaze without flinching. “Would you like me to convey a message when I return?” he inquired.

As if his words finally dawned, Britanni swooned and fainted in her mate’s arms. Pádraig scowled at Rachen.
“If this is some sort of joke, Your Highness, I assure you we don’t find it amusing. I’ve already lost two sons. I can’t lose a wife.”

Two sons. So Iasan hadn’t returned home. Where was he then? Where had Ferradul Cyraltin taken him after they’d left Draechenburg?

He couldn’t address that now, though. They were still in the middle of the airport, with everyone listening in on their conversation. “Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else,” he suggested.

“Very well,”
Pádraig said. “Let us go. The car is waiting.”

As they entered the car, though, Rachen looked at the sprite couple and wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything. He hoped that soon, he would find out exactly what was going on here.

They traveled through the busy London streets in complete silence, with other cars following them, presumably belonging to the rest of the sprite delegation. During the trip, Britanni recovered from her faint, but she didn’t speak, nor did she look at Rachen.

Finally, after a torturous drive, they reached their destination, which turned out to be a beautiful Victorian-style mansion. Distantly, Rachen wondered if it really looked that way. It would be kind of funny if it was actually a rundown dump, or perhaps some sort of bunker that could withstand any attack.

Naturally, he had no way to find out, and it really didn’t matter. As soon as they entered the house, Rachen broke the silence and said, “Now…about Caelyn—”

“My son is dead,” Pádraig interrupted him, his voice wooden. “Please, step this way. We’ll lead you to your quarters.”

More irritated than ever, Rachen complied. He couldn’t understand these people. At the airport, they’d almost seemed concerned for Caelyn. Now, they didn’t even want to hear his name. Rachen had thought life in Draechenburg was full of riddles. Sprites were so much worse. One thing was certain. His visit hadn’t started in a very promising way.

* * * *

Meanwhile, somewhere near Edinburgh

“What do you mean you can’t find it?” Ferradul Cyraltin glared at his underling, unable to believe his ears. “Did you search everywhere?”

The other sprite winced at Ferradul’s tone. “Yes, Your Grace,” he answered in a sedate tone. “There was nothing in the residence, just the regular miscellanea we were told to expect. Perhaps the draechen got there first.”

“The draechen weren’t even aware of that residence, or this one for that matter,” Ferradul answered. “Jenarra, you’re useless. I don’t know what I was thinking when I recruited you.”

Iasan Sutharlainn looked down, ready to take his punishment. Ferradul truly didn’t know what he’d have done if a gentle hand hadn’t pressed against his shoulder. “Father, perhaps you should calm down,” a soft voice came from behind him. “Losing your temper won’t help.”

Ferradul turned toward his son and forced a smile. Alwyn looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, and that only made Ferradul panic more. If Alwyn ever found out what Ferradul had done to keep him from the draechen’s clutches, he would be crushed. Of course, under the circumstances, it was only a matter of time until the secret became irrelevant. In his quest to come up with an adequate spell, he’d unleashed a force none of them could control. Not only that, but he’d also killed someone to try to fix some of the mess he had created. The entire situation was snowballing into something that would eventually reach Elusia, and Alwyn. Jenarra, what had he been thinking?

He took a deep breath and waved Iasan off. The other sprite fled, obviously grateful that he’d been dismissed. Ferradul had enlisted Iasan in his special task force because he’d seen energy in the young sprite that others of their kind didn’t show, but also due to Iasan’s insistence to remain by Ferradul’s side. Sadly, neither Iasan nor any of Ferradul’s other underlings had been able to find what had been lost.

Once Iasan was gone, Ferradul sat with Alwyn on the couch. The walls of his office seemed to choke him, and with a thought, he melted them away, summoning the image of bright meadows and crystal clear rivers. It was only an illusion, but it still made Alwyn laugh.

“I love it when you do that,” Alwyn admitted, his dark eyes glittering with mirth.

Ferradul kissed his son’s temple. “I love you, son.”

Alwyn hugged him, obviously sensing something was not right. Ferradul had actively tried to keep his son from the world, to protect him from what it meant to be a Krite’s illegitimate son, but Alwyn was very intelligent and he knew Ferradul too well. “What’s going on, Father?” he asked. “What was he supposed to find?”

For all his powers of illusion, Ferradul hated to lie to his son. “You remember Elina?” he asked.

“Your…friend.” Alwyn blushed as he answered. “Yes, I remember.”

Of course he did. Ferradul had made the mistake to give Elina Eretar far too much hold over his life. Alwyn’s mother had unexpectedly died in childbirth, something so rare that Ferradul hadn’t allowed himself to touch anyone since that day. And then, the beautiful fire dragon had crossed his path, and he’d been lost.

It was that weakness that brought them to this point now. He should have stepped down from his position when he’d realized he could no longer be objective, not with his affection toward Alwyn and his lust toward Elina. But he’d clung to his Krite seat, and now, they were all in danger because of it.

Ferradul sighed at the thought. “Well, she had in her possession an item she took from me, a very powerful item,” he explained. “She was recently killed, and now, that item is missing.”

He left out that he’d been the one to kill her. He hadn’t wanted to do it. In fact, he’d dreaded the very idea, and he still felt nauseous when he remembered it. She had been about to reveal the secret they shared to the draechen, and that was something he couldn’t allow, not just yet, not until he came up with something else to safeguard Alwyn.

Truth be told, his enchantment had never been meant to truly harm her. He’d merely intended to stop her from exposing him to the draechen. To this day, he had no idea what had happened. He could only guess that his spell had interacted in some way with her fire dragon nature.

And now, he could barely sleep at night because of the memories of her writhing body, the same one he had held and caressed. If only Elina hadn’t come up with the idea to create that blasted illusion, the one that had taken Alwyn’s place in Draechenburg. At first, Ferradul had pointed out that no illusion would hold on a long-term basis and that the senses of the shifter would eventually be able to tell something wasn’t right, but then, he had remembered the box, one he’d thought was an ancient artifact. How little he had known then. If he’d been fully informed on what he would unleash upon the world, he’d have found another way. It was too late now, much too late. Ferradul now had to live with the burden of having murdered a woman he had truly cared about in his own way. Not to mention that he’d unleashed a force that could potentially kill them all. Jenarra, what had he been thinking?

Oblivious to Ferradul’s thoughts, Alwyn shot him a curious look. “What item?” he inquired.

“A box…” Ferradul shook his head, not wanting his son to worry about it. “We’ll find it eventually. It’s not so important. Now tell me…how are your lessons going?”

Alwyn frowned, obviously not wanting to let go of the conversation so quickly. “Father…”

“Please, son,” Ferradul said. “I need to unwind a bit. Just tell me.”

That subterfuge worked, and Alwyn immediately dropped the topic. As his son started to speak about his lessons of ancient history, Ferradul wondered if there was any point in Alwyn learning about the past. If he didn’t find that box soon, none of them might have a future.

It was this thought that tormented him for what seemed like forever. And then, something surprising happened. The door of his office burst open and his fellow Krites,
Jazara Banniear and Ithual Alleantin, walked into the room. “What have you done, Ferradul?” Jazara asked without preamble. “How could you?”