Cruel War (The Gilded Sovereign 1)

So, instead of offering her a brutal truth, I nod. “You will. Somehow, I’ll make sure you get to see him again.”

I know what the pain of losing a parent brings. There are so many things I would love to tell my mother right now. But I can’t. So I give Dahlia some form of hope.

I pull her into my arms, allowing her to nuzzle into my chest. Her perfume fills my senses, and I wonder how I’m going to let her go when the time comes.

“We need to head back inside,” I tell her.

Dahlia steps away from me, tilting her head back and smiles up at me. “Thank you for giving me this. I know it’s not—”

“Just leave it be.” My words are cold, more aloof than I want, but emotion will only stir up shit right now. “Let’s go.”

I drag her along behind me, and I pray for the first time in my life that things will go our way. That one of us won’t be killed.

We’re all seated at the table when the door opens with a whoosh. The tension that fills the room chokes the air that fills my lungs.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding?” My father utters when he reaches the table. His tall, formidable figure looms over me as his hand squeezes on my shoulder. When I was younger, I would cower. I’d be shaking because I wanted to impress him, but not anymore. I’m more of a man than he will ever be.

The chair scrapes along the tiles as I shove it back, the sound bouncing off the walls as I stand to meet his gaze dead on. My spine straight, shoulders squared.

“I don’t hide.”

“Oh?” He tips his head to the side as he regards me. Every person in the room has stopped moving. It’s as if everyone is holding their breath to see the showdown between father and son.

“It’s time the Sovereign moves into the twenty-first century,” I tell him. “You’re no longer in charge. Philipe is the head chair, and if he allows a vote, the four of us will all be in favor.” My confidence doesn’t waver, and I want to pull Dahlia into my arms to show him I’m in charge.

“Really? You think your brother is going to go against me?” A dark chuckle escapes my father’s mouth, and his eyes shimmer with a challenge. There’s violence swirling in the air, and his hands land on either of my shoulders. “You want that little brat?” He bites out, glaring at my girl behind me.

“She’s already mine.” I’m not backing down. I’ve made the decision, and he can never stop me. I know he’s shocked at my show of confidence.

“Have you forgotten what her father did to your mother?”

“No, but then again, what is it you had her father do?” I counter, challenging him. I doubt he’ll admit the truth with people listening. Etienne’s mother is here, and as much as I know she hates the society, she’s never hated someone as much as she has my father. She wouldn’t think twice about calling the cops if she knew the truth.

Abner glares at me, then slowly nods. “Then you’ll play for it.”

“What?”

He shrugs as if he’s talking about the weather. “We play for it. You know the Sovereign doesn’t allow you to just get what you want without a challenge.”

“Fine. What do you want me to do?” I shrug him off me, stepping back and folding my arms in front of my chest. My father and I are the same height, so nothing he does intimidates me.

“Hide and seek,” he tells me. “She’ll have a minute head start, and we’ll go after her.” He waves his hand in the air, gesturing to the darkness outside the window. The depth of the forest in this cold weather could kill someone if they got lost, especially since Dahlia’s wearing a goddamned silk dress.

“No.”

“No? If you want this, that’s my only offer.” He glances at the beauty behind me. “Take off your shoes. And go.” He lifts his watch, tapping the timer. “You have one minute to get as far as possible.” Abner reaches into his jacket and pulls out his knife. A large hunting knife I didn’t expect him to be wearing to a dinner party. But then again, he’s in the home of an enemy.

“What?” Dahlia’s hiss comes from behind me.

“You’re running out of time,” he warns her as he steps back, twisting the sleek silver in his hand. “Don’t let me find you, I like to slice pretty girls.” The honest confession turns my stomach.

The shuffle of material from behind me has me spinning on my heel. Dahlia’s shoes lay on the ground beside her. She leans up on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. And then, she’s out the door.