Page 41 of Heir

“And killed,” he said blandly. “Rella, darling, you have jam all over your chin. Bring Daddy a napkin so I can help you.” Fiorella made noises of protest. “There we go, Sweet Pea. Much better. Can I have a kiss?” Muah! “Thank you. Go find Mommy, she’ll help you get dressed.”

“I think you should put Raver on as my replacement. We both know he’s good. He’ll find whoever is ordering the vampire kills probably faster than I would.”

Howar made a non-committal noise in his throat. “It’s also something I’m going to bring up at the meeting today. See what the others have heard.”

Something niggled at the back of my mind. It was what the bear said last night about a way shifters can die.

“Your silence is telling. What is on your mind, besides the obvious dilemma with your mate unwilling to mate, and your rivals?” the King’s tone was tinged with mirth, but also concern.

“Is it true that a way to kill a shifter is to kill her cubs in front of her? That she will actually die from heartbreak?” When I confirmed Zandren’s statement last night, I was actually unaware of its truth. But I didn’t want to come off as ignorant. This was obviously something he knew, and who was I to argue with the hairy brute? I wasn’t surprised by his continued disdain for me. The tedious relationship between shifters and vampires was long-standing and well-known. But this bear was pricklier than most, and not afraid to let me know he’d rather have me for lunch than even try to get along.

Howar was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally said. “I’m grateful that’s not a way to kill vampires. And I don’t wish that kind of death on anyone. Why?”

“The bear said it. It’s apparently how his mother died. Her cub was killed—by a vampire—in front of her, and she died from a broken heart. Do you . . .” I cleared my throat. “Do you know how and when it happened? The bear is King Ryden’s son. So it would have been King Ryden’s mate.”

Again, Howar was quiet.

I didn’t like where this was going.

“It was not a good time for shifters and vampires. We were at odds more than we were on good terms. I wasn’t the King—my father was—and we both remember what kind of a racist tyrant he was. He hated that demons ruled. Thought shifters were primitive beasts that didn’t deserve a seat at the table. That they’re no better than dogs. Pets.”

“I remember,” I said slowly.

“Your father—my uncle—was his head of military, and—”

“Equally brutal, racist, and tyrannical,” I finished, my gut spinning with what I hoped to the gods wasn’t going to come next.

“I don’t really know what happened, or who instigated what but, Goliver, your father, killed Ryden’s cub—a young female—in front of Ryden’s mother, Leida Thorne, Queen of the Shifters. From what I understand, it was in retaliation for something. But because it was more of a cold war than anything else, there was some semblance of an agreement where children would be left out of the war. They weren’t coming after vampire children and we weren’t going after cubs or pups.”

“But my father broke the agreement.”

“He did.”

“And he killed Zandren’s sister and mother.” I was going to be sick. I spun around to look back through the glass door again at the sleeping beast spread out on the carpet with his hands tucked behind his head, his legs out long.

“He did,” Howar confirmed. “And it started a huge war. Many from both sides died—including your father and my father. That’s when I came into power. That’s when King Donovar came into power because his father died too.” He snorted. “Out with the old and in with the new. I hate to say it, but when Goliver did that, igniting the war, it culled a lot of the bad seeds from both sides. It allowed you, Donovar, and me to step up and change things. To broker peace. Which we’ve had for a hundred and twenty years now.”

No wonder Zandren hated vampires so much. Did he know who was responsible? Did he know it was my father?

“It was tragic, truly,” Howar said with sympathy. “But it yielded the best possible outcome.”

“I’m not sure Zandren or King Ryden would feel that way.”

“King Ryden knows what happened. He knows I’m nothing like my father and that you are nothing like yours. And we all know that Donovar was nothing like Jaxar. I’m hoping that Omaera will rule like her father—not her grandfather.”

“If she ends up ruling at all. She’s hellbent on abdicating or figuring out a way to not rule.”

Howar chuckled softly. “The Gods and their fates are stronger than any magic. She is the rightful heir and unless killed or properly challenged, she cannot relinquish her responsibility. If that was an option, I’m sure I would have considered it more than once these last hundred and twenty years.”

“She has an aunt not far from here and wishes to go see her today. She is the woman who raised her.”

“A human?”

“I think so? But maybe not, since Omaera had a strong cloaking spell cast over her until Donovar was murdered. So perhaps this woman is a mage and never told Omaera.”

“Name?”

“Delia Refera.”

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