“No!” he commanded. He tied some kind of thick rope around her wrists and she squeezed her eyes shut as true fear came over her.
Unknown land, unknown men, unknown people all led to some horrifying thoughts. He yanked her back up by the wrists and the muscles in her shoulders, arms and back pulled viciously, the muscles close to tearing. She cried out at the burning pain shooting through her.
“You come with me,” he said in that deep, accented voice so like Telal's.
She didn't really have a choice as he started walking her backwards. His steps were long but hers weren't, and she frantically walked backwards, trying to keep her arms from twisting in the binds.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To king for judgment, trespasser.”
Her eyes widened. The king as in Telal's father? Her gut clenched and she kept fumbling backwards to keep up. Shit, she'd really made a bad mistake.
CHAPTER 17
Telal approached the king's dais in long strides. His brother's appearance made him frown. What the fuck had happened to him? Gone was the auburn hair, the violet eyes, and golden skin and in its place was black hatred, without a soul.
The royal congregation stared openly as he climbed the stairs to the throne. His brother eyed him, cold and calculating. He looked across the dais and saw his mother sitting at a regal table with white linen draped across it. Her hand held a golden spoon poised in midair like she'd been about to sip from it when he entered. She'd changed too. She'd never been a maternal mother, his nurses had cared for him more than she did, but even now he could see her eyes were darker, more sinister. Others sat at the table too, wearing the clothes of wise men, Alrik's council. He didn't see his father though.
He should kneel before the king, but he didn't. He stopped in front of Alrik's throne, his soul burning to ask so many questions that have long gone unanswered.
“What's brought you here, brother Telal?”
“I need to talk to you.”
A dark eyebrow went up. “After all this time, you think you can come here and make demands of me.” His voice was quiet, hard.
Telal chose his words carefully. “I would just like to talk. I'm not trying to make any demands.”
Alrik scoffed, his lips pulling into a mean grin. He stood and Telal saw just how much he'd grown from the little boy he'd known. In his memory, even as he'd wondered what he'd grown up to look like, to be, he'd never have guessed this. They were about the same height, but aside from that there were no other similarities.
Suddenly, Alrik's gaze cut to the other side of the dais. Two women came through a red curtain partition, one with skin like glittering milk, the other a vibrant shade of ebony. Fleeting recognition crossed him as he gazed at the lighter-skinned one. She, too, paused when she saw him, her lips parting in surprise.
Alrik growled. “Come with me.” Telal nodded, following him back through the curtain and down to the study at the end of the hall that used to be his father's. It was the king's study, and only he or his special guests were allowed to enter.
Alrik swept open the doors and they slammed shut behind them, the loud crack echoed in the massive room. It looked the same, he noted. A large wooden desk, the walls filled with books and ledgers, the plush handmade rugs on the floor, and family portraits on the wall.
Alrik dropped into a tall-backed chair, his eyes cold as ice. “Tell me what you’re doing here.”
Telal took a seat across from him. “I'm here to talk business.”
Alrik laughed, the sound like insects crawling along his skin. “Business. I'm intrigued. What business could you possibly be talking about, brother?”
Telal held his questions about his family at bay. “I've finally started the negotiations to have the rift opened again.”
That seemed to take Alrik by surprise; both eyebrows flew up and his hands clenched the arm rests like he was trying to strangle them.
“Why would you want that?”
Telal stared at his brother for long moments. He'd never anticipated he wouldn't want the rift open. Not once in his life did the thought cross his mind.
“I think the better question is why wouldn't you want that?”
He came back with his own question. “You've come back to claim the throne. You know father died that night.”
“I don't want the bloody throne, Alrik. I always knew you were better for it than me.” As he said the words he cringed inside. After seeing his brother, he wasn't so sure. Something sinister wafted around him.
Alrik relaxed back into his chair, his eyes drifting off to stare idly at the wall. “My brother's come back to open the rift. Just how do you plan to do that?”
“I have an agreement with the Commander of the Atal Warriors. I have the documents with me so you can see the proposal.” Leaning forward, he took the folded proposal out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table between them. Alrik made no move to pick it up.
“Tobius en Kulev? I think I'm surprised you'd work with him, though I guess I shouldn't be since you've done it before.”
The jab cut straight to the quick. Telal stood in a rush, ready to get all the shit out. “No, Tobius died a long time ago by some renegade demons. His son, Tyrian, is in charge now. I have a loose acquaintance with him.” He left out the part involving the Bellum sisters. “He'll agree to the proposal but there are some 'ifs'.”
Alrik smirked. “Some 'ifs'...”
“Listen, that night I didn't betray you—”
His brother's booming laughter overshadowed anything he might have said. Alrik stood and walked to a long wooden table against a wall that held bottles of various liquors and glasses of various sizes. He poured himself a tall glass of frenzia, strong demonic liquor, and tossed back the harsh drink then poured another and did it again.
“I had an arrangement with Tobius to have the nether two rifts closed off for protection. I was trying to help us from all the attacks.”
Alrik nodded as if he understood. “That makes perfect sense, brother Telal. Go to our enemy the vampires and get help from them without consulting our father first. Perfect...sense.”
Telal clenched his jaw. “I know I was wrong now and foolish, but I'm trying to make things right.”
Alrik quickly turned around, his strange dark eyes swirling with an eerie energy. “Bad news for you, brother. I am king now and I don't want the rift opened.”
Telal shook his head. “Why wouldn't you that? It makes no sense.” Telal quickly thought back to all of his plans, years of planning, and already so many unexpected things had happened to throw him off. This especially he'd never figured into the equation. Of course, he didn't know his brother would be tainted too. Tainted with what? A voice asked in the back of his mind.
“Do you wish to challenge me for the throne?”
“A fight to the death? You have to be kidding me. You are my brother.”
Alrik's cool gaze turned positively icy. “As if that means anything to me.”
And just like that Telal's heart broke in his chest. A cold numb feeling drifted lazily through his body, filling his limbs and muscles with lethargy. Everything he'd worked for, to get to this moment, was shattered. He had the distinct urge to port home, put a gun to his head and blow his fucking head off. The one person he'd ever loved, his blood, hated him. How couldn't he? logic demanded. Fuck off, he told it.
“You have not become a good king.”
He had nothing left to lose now, even if his brother killed him it wouldn't be any worse than what he felt now. Hell, that would be a relief to the raw burning agony in his chest.