Page 70 of The Crown’s Temptation

"A pathetic."

"Disappointment."

He filled the doorway. Tall, with a face that should have been young and wasn't. His skin was flawless, his eyes a deep burgundy that held the room without effort. Everything about him made me think of Sevrin, even his face was similar. His power hit me before he fully crossed the threshold, pressing against my chest like something I could not name, suffocating in a way that made me want to sit down.

"Who the fuck are you?" Teorin said.

"Your uncle." He looked at Teorin. "Now I see why your father never mentioned you. You are truly worthless."

Teorin went pale.

"Axar. King of Korakar. In charge of this shithole until that idiot brother of yours recovers."

"So Sevrin is alive," I murmured. For some reason that brought me relief, and though it should have been because I was glad to hear he was safe, the truth was that it was a relief to know that there was someone in here that knew what I had lost, that maybe could help me leave here.

Axar turned to me.

He stared. And stared. And stared. The room fell quiet. I felt Teorin bristle beside me. I did not look at him.

"Just like her," he said quietly.

I was not surprised. This was the man who had known my mother's story. I remembered Aunt Petunis's words. “The only one who truly knows what happened to your mother is Axar, and he is in Morrath.”

Whatever horrors had brought me to this place, whatever had been taken from me and whatever I still did not know, at least there was that. My mother's truth. My past. Waiting somewhere behind those burgundy eyes.

He looked back at Teorin.

"If you want to play king I will allow it. You brought her here safely and these creatures fear what they do not understand." His voice dropped. "But you do not dare fight your brother for this throne. You would not win anyway." A pause. "If I find you doing anything even remotely related to securing power here in Morrath I will kill you myself."

The Morraks in the room bristled and I felt the controlled anger emanating from Teorin. His pupils disappeared into black. “I am only here for her,” he said. “I have no intention of returning once I am able to find a way to help her leave here.”

Axar regarded him. "Yes. Not as stupid as I thought, or you're so consumed by your greed for the Rathmor throne that Morrath means little to you. Regardless, the Darkway was your only real option, and that is only because I allowed it. Everywhere else you would have been devoured in a heartbeat.” His voice was cold. “You have no allies here and for years these creatures have only known one name for legitimacy. Sevrin Rathmor."

"Why?" Teorin looked furious. "He is no leader. They remain trapped."

"He is predictable. Reliable. A king. Even trapped the country is organized, the people are fed, and if it is not always by Sevrin's hand it is by my own."

"Why?" Teorin said again.

"Because Sevrin understands one fundamental truth."

"Which is?"

Axar looked around the room. Then back at Teorin.

"The true king of Morrath is me."

He turned. "You need to feed. I do not know that you can be trusted here in any capacity without feeding."

"I am half Thren," Teorin said. "I feed on souls. I do not need blood to be powerful."

Axar shook his head. "My country. My rules. You are too weak to even control your own beasts. They are swarming over the Witchward like flies." He raised his voice without raising it much. "Alkan."

A man shuffled in and bowed immediately, deeply, without being asked.

"Feed him," Axar said, looking at Teorin.

Teorin looked at me. "I'm not leaving her."