Page 72 of A Spark Of Revenge

“You would do well not to look at what's not yours,” I grind out, then internally curse myself when Jesthren's eyes light up in excitement, and I know I just gave him what he was looking for.

“You too, then? I suspected so, but the way you were yelling out there like a beast, I wasn't sure. I’m not surprised that Heldakar and Valen are willing to share. They have always been close, almost as close as Yannos and Archer… but you?” Jesthren smiles. “You don't share your toys.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the growl that tries to break free. That would only give him what he is looking for—a reaction. And I already gave him enough to put her in danger. He needs to think I have zero interest in her. If Jesthren believes Meyer is just Valen and Creed's, she will be safe. Hell, he would probably defend her himself as long as he was positive I hated her. Jesthren may be my enemy, but he is my brothers’ protector. He will keep them safe as long as it doesn't interfere with his vendetta against me.

“The girl is nothing but a pastime, Jesthren. As you said, she is not enough to tempt me into sharing,” I scoff with a wave of a hand, looking at the papers in front of me, keeping my heart rate steady so that Jesthren won't detect my lie. It should be fairly easy to make Jesthren believe my Little Demon means nothing to me. All I need to do is piss her off and let her stab me again, and he’ll be her greatest fan. That idea instantly backfires in my mind, and a growl of jealousy breaks from my lips, making Jesthren frown and look at the papers, trying to figure out what put me in a bad mood.

“What?” he asks, suddenly interested, giving me the perfect opportunity to move his attention away from Meyer.

“Were you briefed on our situation here before you left?” I ask, folding up Meyer's blood results and tucking them into my pocket, looking at him with cold detachment. Jesthren arches an unimpressed brow, nodding.

“Of course. Do you truly believe Father would send me to clean up your mess unprepared? I have been fully briefed on how you inserted us in a war that we have no business being in,” he mutters, looking away as he fixes his perfect suit jacket, again brushing at the invisible dust there. He probably thinks the dirty earth grime is staining his pristine clothing and is having a mental breakdown. “Why is this realm so filthy?” he adds, confirming my suspicions.

“Not the war with the Seniorem,” I snarl, making Jesthren smirk. “What Valen and I found in the church outside these walls.” Jesthren grimaces and shakes his head.

“Why would we care about what the silly humans do in a church? Really, Garthelaun, they are mortal beings. Their life will be over in a blink of an eye. Why bother with them?”

“They are people, Jesthren. They have a soul and have a right to their freedom as much as we do. Just because they have shorter life spans doesn't make them lesser than us,” I growl and shake my head. “But no. I’m referring to the sarcophagus of Inanis, brother,” I snarl in frustration, losing control of my shift as my claws slowly begin to lengthen from my fingertips.

Jesthren’s humor fades instantly, his face paling at the name I just uttered. “Inanis?” he rasps, then clears his throat and looks around the room like he’s worried the devil himself may be lurking in the shadows. “That's a cruel joke, Garthelaun,” he growls, his eyes flashing with anger as he looks down at me like a child who is telling a story.

“It’s no joke, brother,” I hiss between my teeth.

“Inanis… The harbinger of death? Sire of the four horsemen… That Inanis?” Jesthren drawls, and shakes his head. “How in the world would the Hunters manage to recover the sarcophagus? It's enchanted and locked against all infiltrators. The Dream Walker king himself sealed the sarcophagus with his life to keep it safe,” Jesthren growls, and I nod.

“I know… Yet we found it outside these walls,” I confirm, and Jesthren finally staggers, sensing the truth in my words. “Thankfully, they only have one of them. I just sent word to Father to check on the other in the Demon Realm.”

“That’s impossible,” he breathes, eyes wide, and for the first time in my life, I see a flicker of fear in those pompous green eyes.

“Valen warded the grounds, then I added my own layer of protection. Creed and Razar don’t hold enough magic to add their own, but…” I trail off, nodding at him, unsure if he will help simply because I asked it of him.

“Of course,” he breathes, shocking me enough that I give him an odd look. “What?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “We aren't talking about the line of ascension or petty fights between brothers, Garthelaun. This would mean the destruction of our world. It goes beyond you and your silly pride. We should probably relocate the sarcophagus to a defensible spot. The fact that you left it out in the open proves you're not ready to lead this war.”

“And how exactly would I move the sarcophagus alone? Valen has barely recovered a fraction of the magic drained from him over the last four years. I needed help, which is why I wrote to Father,” I explain, making Jesthren cock a skeptical brow at me. I roll my eyes at him as I turn, giving him my back, knowing it will piss him off with the lack of fear I hold for him. “When did murder attempts and physical torture become petty fights between brothers?” I ask, making Jesthren grin.

“You’re so dramatic, Garth-”

“Lennox! My name is Lennox, Jesthren,” I correct him, then walk to the doors before snapping my fingers. “Come on. We don't have all day. I thought the Seniorem was coming to take back the castle, but I think their real target is the sarcophagus. We need to move it into the crypts until Father sends word on what to do.”

“We should destroy it,” Jesthren growls, his hands fisting as he begrudgingly follows me, his will crumpling under my magic.

“That is up to Father to decide. And who would give their life to open the sarcophagus? You?” I ask. Jesthren scoffs, and I nod. My brother may be all talk about protecting our people, but he would never give his life to save them.

“I will if I have to,” he lies, and I roll my eyes.

“We do nothing until Father commands it,” I mutter again, then snarl when Jesthren's large hand wraps around my arm, tugging me to a halt.

“That could mean the fucking apocalypse, Lennox! He needs to be destroyed. Father was weak when he chose to keep Inanis alive. He didn't have the magic to kill him; but you do! Kill him and be rid of this nightmare forever. Secure your kingdom the way Father should have all those years ago,” he whispers, magic flaring around us, making me pause in confusion.

Is he… trying to compel me?

I release a cold laugh and tear my arm from my oldest brother, then shove him against the wall, hooking my arm under his neck as I sneer up at him.

“I am not the king! It is NOT my kingdom to rule over,” I growl in a low voice. “I will not do anything unless instructed to by Father. And if you ever try to compel me again…” I trail off and let my teeth sharpen as Jesthren glares at me, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “I will tear your spine from your body and throw you to the Beastia. I am in charge here, not you, Jesthren. As you said, this is not the time or place for your jealous rage. You will tamp it down, or you will return home. I’m not stupid enough to deny I need your help, but I refuse to let you bring chaos to this realm simply for your entertainment. Am I understood?”

Jesthren snarls, baring his teeth at me as his dark magic slams into mine in challenge. I grit my teeth, the feeling uncomfortable as I fight back, bending his magic until Jesthren growls, sweat dotting his brow.

“Am. I. Understood?” I repeat, lording my dominance over him as he slowly nods.

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