Page 28 of A Storm Rises

Lady Verona blocked his path. “She showed you the truth, not lies.” She raised a clenched fist and elevated her voice. “And that truth can change everything for our people.” Her eyebrows lifted. “It can help you win the hunt and get the reward, including those seeds.”

He knew fae could not lie. So how could they be spewing such horrid untruths? “Witchery is allowing these vile tales.”

“Listen, boy,” Lady Verona threatened. “We are telling you the truth because there is great power within your human witch side.” She jabbed her finger against his chest. “And you must awaken it.”

He stumbled back. Human witch side? “You are mad. Both of you.” He had reached his fill of their misconceptions and outright falsehoods. “Perhaps you nipped too much of the High King’s grapes?”

Lady Verona sighed and rubbed her forehead. “When I was a young Sublander, about your age…” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I was part of a ring of protectors whose sole purpose was to protect Princess Gabriela, your mother. At that time she was the last remaining heir of House Strong.” She locked eyes with Mateo and lowered her voice. “Manny Vela was part of that ring of protectors.”

“My father?” He swallowed a gulp of air. They gained his attention by mentioning Manny.

“The human man who raised you.” Verona nodded. “Yes. Manny was with us, along with my brother, Adrius; the ward of the Sublands at the time, Lord Rook; a powerful witch named Lady Sonia; your birth father and fellow Sublander, Lord Leaf; and then, of course, your mother, Princess Gabriela.”

Whatever had happened to them might have been awful. But she was wrong about his parentage. Still, he wanted to hear more. “Tell me more about this ring of protectors.”

“Our mission was loaded with danger. At one point, we raced through the tunnels under the Strong Haven Palace. Draven the witch and his warriors were on our tail. And then your mother, the princess, she…” Verona closed her eyes. Her lips twitched. “She brought forth a powerful blue light from her body. A surge of power all around her. She brought down the tunnel behind us, and we managed to escape.”

Verona took a deep breath and opened her eyes. For the first time he noticed the dark circles and creases across her forehead. “Your mother’s power was rare, like nothing I had ever seen before or since. It came from her father, Julio Avila, your grandfather, and their human ancestors before him. Rhyka and I believe the same power lives inside you.”

Why would his father, Manny, keep something like this from him? He loved his father with all his heart. “If what you say is true, then why hasn’t my father told me this?” He was supposed to believe that Manny had lied to him his entire life? He didn’t think so.

“Because he knew the evils that sought to end the Strong bloodline.” Verona’s gala dress rustled with her movement. “He protects you with his life. He loved Gabriela as his own and stepped in as her sire when her father, Lord Julio, was killed, presumably by the Kanes.”

All the deception made Mateo’s head spin. Though one thing he knew for certain. None of what they told him would save his family. “There is no power inside of me.” They hoped against hope for something that simply did not reside inside him.

Verona pointed her finger at Mateo. “Gabriela’s power came to her when she needed it the most. It will be the same for you.”

Mateo walked to the open window. A cool breeze brushed his face. The full moon filled the sky. Surely, he was not a Strong. But that voice deep inside of him nagged. It told him that he should consider the possibility. If power resided within him, he knew nothing about it. But perhaps it might help him win the hunt, rescue Poppy from death’s doorstep, heal his father and little sister, and maybe even deliver the Sublands out of the ashes.

And after the grim news from home, he needed to win that hunt.

Violins strummed in Avalynn’s head as she waltzed into her bedchamber. She had danced with him—Mateo Vela. Her hand moved to the back of her neck, where he’d touched her. The warmth from his fingers lingered. He had noticed her. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, reliving his steely gray stare roaming her figure. Her heart thumped and ached at the same time, something she had never known or felt before.

He'd accepted her alliance. That would make her task easier. Relieved, she kicked off her satin slippers and then stared into the darkness. From the blackness, it hit her like a blinding light—Mateo would die, and she would be the cause. The thump and the ache in her heart made more sense.

“That was quite the display… You and the Sublander.”

She spun and faced the High King. “Father, I did not see you there.”

He sat on the white plush chair, facing the empty fireplace. The moonlight from the sitting room’s window lit him halfway. His other half blended with the shadows. “Come forth, my daughter.”

She linked her hands in front of her and walked toward him. Stepping into the sitting room’s space, she waved her fingers, and the fire sprang to life.

His legs were crossed. He held a gold goblet and still wore his gala attire—all silver with gold accents. On his head rested the realm’s most formal and luxurious crown. It was adorned with tall antlers, gold vines, pearls, and crystals. She would one day wear that crown. Her rule would exceed any Faevenly had ever known, including his.

“The evening was most splendid, Father.” What was he doing here in her room? She and Lily had presented themselves at the formal toast. Other than that, she had not paid him or her mother much heed. “I do pray that you and Mother had a lovely time.”

“We did…” He rose and faced the fireplace. His goblet hit the mantle with a clink. “Perhaps not as much as you did.”

Oh no. He’d been watching her. She could not let him know she’d become conflicted. A laugh that sounded weaker then she intended escaped her lips. “You know how I love to dance.” She would not mention her fake alliance with Mateo. The less she said, the better.

“Yesss, I do know.” He held out the ‘s’ for a long beat, sounding like a slithering snake. He smoothed his long coat, tilted his head, and studied her. “Which makes me wonder why we did not dance.”

“Indeed.” Her worries refused to go down with a swallow. “My apologies. Next time?”

“How about now?” He extended his hand. “Who knows if there will be a next time.”

A shiver shot down her spine. No next time? “Of course. Whatever pleases you, Father.”

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