Page 28 of Whispers of the Water

“It’s a really nice training space,” I said in an effort to not be swept up by my worries.

“Isn’t it?”

My blood ran cold at the newcomer’s voice. We all turned to find Myra striding out of a room behind us. She’d traded in her gown from earlier for form-fitting trousers and a tunic. Her long hair had been braided, and it swayed behind her with her tail as she approached the mats.

“This room has seen the evolution of many Fox Fae, the newest addition being Greshim,” Myra said as she stopped by her son.

Greshim stood tall and stared up at his mother in the way a soldier might stand at attention for their commanding officer.

“You fought well earlier,” Myra said to Greshim. Her amber eyes flicked to Newt, who hovered a few feet away with his hands twitching at his sides. Myra’s eyes narrowed on him. “You’re still weak and need to work harder.”

Red hot anger sizzled in my chest, and it took everything in me to remain expressionless.

Newt’s back straightened. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Myra hissed.

“Mother,” Greshim started. “You know he can’t say his—”

“Silence!” Myra snapped at Greshim, who jumped at the boom of her voice. She turned her fiery gaze back on Newt. “Yes what?”

Newt swallowed hard, and his lips trembled. “Yes, M-M-Mother.”

“Say it properly,” Myra hissed as she stalked toward Newt.

My eyes widened.

This evil woman!

The unease coating my skin was morphing into rage with every passing second. Newt had a stutter! He couldn’t help that, and to demand he fix it on the spot was cruel. My clawed fingers dug into my palms, creating burning pin pricks in my skin. I couldn’t stand by and watch as she closed in menacingly on the trembling boy, but before I could make a move to intervene, Rune stepped forward, getting in between Newt and Myra.

He leveled his bitter eyes at his mother, and his voice came out eerily quiet as he said, “That’s enough.”

Myra smirked and tipped her chin up. Her eyes never left Rune’s as she said, “You won’t always have your brothers to protect you, Newt. Remember that.”

“He’s still young, Mother,” Rune said. “He won’t see real battle for a while, so he has time to grow. You don’t need to be so harsh with him.”

“That’s how I teach,” Myra said. “It’s how I ensure our bloodline remains powerful and fierce.”

Rune’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “It wasn’t always how you taught.”

Myra’s mischievous smirk melted away, replaced with a cold, venomous sneer.

Rune’s words were another reminder of the past, of Myra’s past, and how she used to be. I couldn’t be certain, but his words implied that Myra used to teach and train in a much different way, most likely when Balgair was still alive. The suggestion of this distant history triggered a fresh wave of simmering rage in Myra, and that’s when my suspicions were confirmed.

Myra’s weakness was Balgair.

I tucked that information away in case I needed it later.

As mother and son faced off in a silent battle, Myra’s features slowly smoothed until she wore a blank mask once more. Without a word, she turned and slowly approached the wall of various weapons.

“Bria,” Myra said cooly with her back to me.

My heart dove into my stomach as I took a deep breath. Being Myra’s target after she’d just been set off surely didn’t spell good news for me. “Yes?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen your share of battles, yes? Despite hiding?”

I glanced at Rune, whose attention was on Myra’s back.

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