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The door to his office was half-open when I arrived, and his personal guards waved me through. “He’s been expecting you.”
“Of course he has,” I muttered under my breath.
Rares was already there, and I plopped down in my usual seat, taking a cursory glance around the office. The crossed beams of the ceiling gleamed too, as if the servants had spent all night polishing every inch of the room the king rarely left. The bottles of liquor along the wall were brimming, and thick crystal glasses were lined in perfect rows. King Azim’s desk was cleared of all papers, too, his more sensitive ones no doubt stored away for the duration of the feast, lest someone try to pry into the secrets of the Iron Realm.
Neither the current king of the Iron Realm nor his loyal servant deigned to acknowledge me. My hands tightened over the arms of the chair. If I had to spend one more minute in my father’s office, I was going to explode. My patience with him was fraying faster every day, and just looking at him made me want to bleed him dry. I was more powerful than he had ever been, and his orders were growing old. It wouldn’t take much for me tokill him, and as he and Rares traded words, I imagined the moment when I would finally rule the Iron Realm.
“Ruslan,” my father snapped, and I finally banished my violent thoughts and gave him the attention he requested.
“Father,” I replied lazily, not bothering to pick my head up off my hand.
“How is Izidora’s training progressing?” he asked, and my fist tightened over the words as if I could shove them away.
“It’s under control,” I drawled, acting as if I was bored of this question – which I was. It was the only question King Azim asked me these days, and my answer was always the same.
He scoffed, apparently still unconvinced. “We’ll see about that.” He turned his attention to Rares. “She is training with the Angel now, yes?”
Rares straightened in his seat – as much as the wizened Mage could straighten. “Yes, My King. She trains with Zuriel at the same time every day.”
The king of the Iron Realm flattened his hands on his mahogany desk, spread wide in an attempt at a commanding posture. But his power moves no longer held any sway over me. “We shall attend today’s session then, and after, we will take her to Rares’s office for more assessment.”
I shot to my feet, reacting on instinct. “Absolutely not. She doesn’t need you distracting her. She is behind as it is.”
My father’s face remained neutral, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me I might have shown my hand. “You are the only one who has seen her training and development since her arrival. How would you know if she is behind? Perhaps she has outclassed you in her training and is ready to be deployed.”
Gritting my teeth, I sank back into my seat, attempting to slake the fury that burned inside me at the thought of my father looking at or touching my mate. The bite of pain from the tip ofa claw digging into my palm wasn’t enough to calm me. “There is no one more powerful than me. Even you,father.”
His eyes flashed at my insolence, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was stronger and faster than him, and it was time he admitted that.
Rares interjected, trying to diffuse the growing tension in the wood-paneled room. “What if we merely observe what Zuriel is teaching her today?”
Both King Azim and myself cut the old Mage a look. Personally, I wished my eyes were daggers so I could stab him until he bled out all over the massive white fur rug at our feet.
“No.” My refusal was harder than the diamonds adorning the Iron Crown resting on King Azim’s head, and sharper than its spikes.
He leveled his attention on me, and I puffed out my chest, showing him that I wasn’t afraid of his threats, or anything he could force Rares to do to me. He appeared almost amused by my defiance, and that made me want to unsheathe the full lengths of my claws and rip him to shreds that very moment.
“Ruslan, you have to agree to something. You cannot hide her from us any longer. Either you can allow us to observe her training today, or you can bring her to Rares’s office afterward for assessment.” My father’s hands lifted from his desk, and the ground beneath our feet shuddered as he called on his magic.
Vines snaked up the chair from nowhere, wrapping around my legs and pinning them to the ground. I burned them away without a second thought, accidentally singeing the fur at my feet. The vines returned, faster this time, and when they crawled over the back of the chair and sucked me back into it, I growled a warning. But my father did not heed it.
Black fire burst from my body and crisped every last living thing touching me.
“Rares,” King Azim snapped, and the old Mage began chanting an all too familiar spell.
“Fine,” I snapped, shoving to my feet and knocking the chair backward with enough force to crack the wood. “Let’s go observe the training.”
Without waiting for them to follow, I stalked from the room, slamming the door to the hall with a satisfying crunch and startling the sentries posted outside.
“My Prince,” they muttered hurriedly, but I disregarded them entirely. My mood was so foul that if they hadn’t addressed me, I wouldn’t have cared enough to do anything about it.
The darkness emanating from my being was enough to part the flow of people bustling through the halls of Ryza Citadel, preparing for the upcoming Béke. They shrank to the walls as if by simply being in my path they would end up burnt to ash. Which, at this rate, they might.
Down and down and down I spiraled, both mentally and physically, until I reached the landing for the tunnels that had been my home until I became heir apparent. Sucking in a ragged breath, I waited for Rares and my father, knowing that I had to get my shit together if I wanted to outmaneuver them both and take what should have been mine a long time ago.
25
Zuriel waited for me in the training room like any other day, turning to face me as I walked in alone. Seeming to sense my inner turmoil, the Angel lifted my hand to comfort me and saw the ring Ruslan had given me the night before.
