I looked up to Theseus, who did not look surprised. He glanced down at me, examining my face. “That was only a shadow copy of Matias. He can duplicate himself. He must be with the others. We should
go.”
* * *
I was once an Omeron Coven witch, part of the Omeron family.
This was a revelation that had only been revealed to me today. Any connection I had to the coven or the family was lost to my memory. As far as I knew, I had no connection to those people or that coven beyond what had occurred in America. When I was kicked out of Washington, DC, by Simone Ward and her circle of witches, they meant nothing to me, and yet, for some strange reason, hearing Sigbjørn had killed them left me feeling a bit…uncomfortable. Of course, Sigbjørn would do what he needed to do to protect his home and family. And it was the witches’ fault for coming as they had. They had spilled blood first by attacking a coven of witches here, in Ankeiros, the land in which the Thorbørn family ruled and controlled. They were the aggressors, and as such, they were met with aggression.
Sigbjørn’s actions were logical to me, not even wrong.
Yet at the same time, when we arrived at the receiving hall, the entry with an open ceiling where the early morning sunlight had begun to arise, casting the clouds in an array of orange, reds, and pinks, I felt uncomfortable. There were nine bodies, seven male and two females, on the ground, none of them bleeding or hurt in any obvious way. In fact, they almost looked as if they were only sleeping. But my ears told me they were dead. They had no heartbeat nor any air in their lungs.
What has he done to them? Did they even have a chance to fight back? The moment I thought it, I wished I hadn’t because I knew he could hear me. However, when I focused on the man who stood in front of the entire family, void of any emotions, he wasn’t paying attention to us or our thoughts. He was simply looking over the bodies. Everyone was silent. No one dared to move or speak, not just the family but every other vampire who had been in the hall before Theseus and I had arrived. I didn’t know how much time had passed before Sigbjørn finally cast his gaze around the hall. Some vampires were so terrified they couldn’t even bear to meet his gaze.
“Long has it been since I have taken to war.” His voice was strong and yet calm. “For such a thing is for the young, and young I am not. Thus, as all old things do, I have preferred to rest in peace. But let it be known to any witch, vampire, or even the humans if they dare wander too far, that just because it has been long, does not mean I have forgotten, nor does it mean I am not still very good at war-making. Be wary, friends, for you can live upon my lands, or you can die upon them. The choice is your own. These annoyances shall cease one way or another.”
With that, he turned back to us. We parted for him, and before he entered the door, he spoke out once more. “There shall be a gathering to welcome my new daughter in a week’s time. I expect all of your families to be in attendance.”
Theseus took my hand and led me inside. Hinrik and Matias were in front of us, while Arsiein and Atarah were behind us. I copied everyone else’s demeanor, doing my best to stand as if I were the royalty they were.
“Those witches who arrived were new to the Omeron Coven…and weak. They came knowing they would die, as death was their message,” Sigbjørn said once we were all inside, and they had closed the door. He turned only to face me. “They did not know what they were dying for but believed it was going to lead to the glory of all Wiccan… They believe in the prophecy of the one true daughter of Circe.”
“They think I am this prophecy? But I am a vampire.” I had just learned about it a few hours ago!
“You are a vampire and also a witch still,” he corrected me. “It is unclear what exactly is the root of this rumor. It is clear, though, that this belief is causing witches far and wide to join the Omeron Coven. It is causing them to give up lives to stir trouble. The witches have been persecuted, and their magic has weakened with each generation for centuries. Now an old prophecy has given them new hope, and like a spark in a dead forest, that fire will spread. It is currently spreading.”
“I don’t understand why! Is this because of the magic I did?”
“That is what we must find out. However, you must commit to who you are now, a Thorbørn, and then you will return to your grimoire and figure out who you once were.”
It didn’t seem like a suggestion because it wasn’t. I could feel it.
It was an order.
“Okay,” was all I could say.
He shifted his eyes to the rest of the family. “It has been a long night. Those of you in need of rest, be sure to take it.”
His eyes shifted to Theseus, and I was sure he had said something to him in his mind. Theseus stood a bit stiffer as his father moved to leave, Rhea walking beside him. I watched as they went, and only when they had disappeared down the hall was there a single sound again—that sound being Ulrik exhaling a large breath and falling onto the couch.
“Oh, thank God, I can finally take a breath again.” He placed his hand over his chest.
“You do not need to breathe, you big ol’ idiot!” Proving her point, Melora, his mate, sat on top of his chest, kicked off her heels, and crossed her legs on top of him as if he were part of the couch.
“Whenever Father acts, you need to breathe if only to cut into the deafening silence,” Ulrik shot back, unbothered by his mate and more annoyed with his brother. “Hinrik, Matias, where are you both going! Can’t you see we are having an after-action family wrap-up session here!”
“Did you not hear Father, Ulrik? Those who need rest should rest,” Hinrik snapped from the top of the stairs.
“Oh, bullshit. You are not Theseus. What rest? You’re ditching your family to go mate your mate until the end of the month!” Ulrik teased, laughing at the look on Hinrik’s face, who was ready to curse him.
Matias simply wrapped his arm around Hinrik’s neck and glanced down at them. “You are not wrong, Ulrik. But I have been looking to spice things up this time around. Melora, would you like to join us?”
Melora grinned widely. “Can I?”
At that, the humor on Ulrik’s face dropped, and a low growl could be heard from deep within his chest.
“It seems your mate still disapproves.” Matias grinned. “Oh, well, maybe next time. Such a beauty as yourself—”