Page 14 of Dancing Moonbeam

For over a thousand years, Galamir had been forced to endure the shame of having a worthless son. Raidh showed no interest in upholding the legacy of the Shadowlace lineage or participating in dark fae magic, much to Galamir’s embarrassment. The Shadowlace name was one of power and prestige, passed down through generations of revered dark fae.

Whispers and snickers from other fae only added fuel to Galamir’s fury. His son refused to embrace dark magic or take any pride in being an Unseelie. It was an insult to their proud reputation.

Enough was enough. Galamir would not let Raidh bring shame upon their house any longer. “If he does not return by tonight, he is no longer my son. He will be cast out.”

Farawyn gasped and sat upright. “You would cast out your own flesh and blood?”

“He brought this upon himself,” Galamir stated. He turned away, his mind already plotting a suitable punishment for his wayward offspring. But just as he was about to leave, he sensed Raidh’s presence and saw him casting a spell from the human realm.

Fury burned within Galamir as he caught a glimpse of his son hiding in a dilapidated room, surrounded by cobwebs with only a single light illuminating his features. The boy seemed to be taunting him by using the very magic he had rebelled against.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked and they could see each other clearly. Raidh narrowed his gaze, while Galamir sneered with disdain. I will find you, boy. Then I will eliminate you, erasing your existence from our history. He blew across his palm, smirking as Raidh’s image faded into the shadows, his whereabouts cloaked in secrecy.

If only his son had lived up to the standards of the Shadowlace family. Admittedly, Raidh was beyond beautiful, flawless in appearance, but he was ultimately a disappointment, too broken to fix.

But Farawyn’s voice interrupted Galamir’s vengeful thoughts. “I felt him too, but I cannot pinpoint his location.”

“He is no longer our concern.” With a determined stride, he left the garden, already formulating a plan to rid their family tree of this rotten branch.

* * * *

Raidh might be able to wield magic, but that didn’t mean he liked creepy places. He was grateful Kalen had allowed him to use the crypt, but why on earth did a wolf shifter family even have a crypt on their property?

The room was a dimly lit chamber, the flickering light of a single candle casting eerie shadows on the vine-covered walls. The air was thick and stale, with a lingering musty odor of old stone and decaying earth, creating an unsettling smell.

The sooner Raidh got the spell over with, the sooner he could get out of this scary room. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then immediately regretted it hadn’t when he sucked in a lungful of must.

Gross. But Raidh had wanted the darkness, needing only enough light to see as he mixed the ingredients in the bowl in front of him, the colors blending together into a murky, dark liquid.

“Here comes the part I really hate.” With a swift motion, Raidh slashed his right forearm over the bowl—suppressing a shout of pain—and let his blood drip into the bowl as he chanted the spell. As the words left his lips, the dark magic swirled around him, a potent mix of power and danger that only amplified the tension inside of him.

As the crypt seemed to melt right before Raidh’s eyes—an illusion created by the magic—he suddenly found himself standing in the garden behind his home, invisible to his parents.

The image that appeared before him was just as chilling as the crypt itself, a reminder of the strained relationship between father and son, a bond broken beyond repair.

His father paced the lush and vibrant garden, filled with exotic plants and flowers. His mother was lounging on her settee, radiating an otherworldly beauty. Unfortunately, hidden beneath the surface, Farawyn held a deep well of malice and apathy.

“He brought this upon himself,” Galamir raged.

But Raidh had no idea what his father was talking about.

Then his father turned, as if to leave, but stopped, as if he sensed Raidh’s presence. Their gazes locked. Raidh narrowed his eyes as resentment filled him. Predictably, there was nothing but contempt and disdain in Galamir’s eyes.

I will find you, boy. Then I will eliminate you, erasing your existence from our history. With a smug smile, he blew across his palm right before the illusion faded and the crypt came back into view.

Raidh gasped. He and his father had never gotten along, but this was the first time Galamir had ever threatened his life.

His left forearm hurt from the cut he’d made, and he felt a warm trickle of blood running down his arm. Trembling, Raidh covered the gash then pressed against the rough, uneven stone wall. Ignoring the cobwebs, he tried to steady his rapid breathing, his father’s threat chilling him to the core.

He couldn’t believe Galamir would go so far as to threaten his life. For what? Because Raidh didn’t want to learn dark magic or participate in some stupid competition? Galamir and his stupid, freaking pride!

The more Raidh paced the crypt, the angrier he became. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just his father who despised him. It was his entire family. Like he was a freak!

And what was with that palm-blowing thing Galamir had done when their minds connected? His father never did anything without purpose.

Three knocks sounded on the crypt door as someone tapped. Raidh looked down at his forearm. He was dealing with a family of wolves shifters. There was no way he could hide his wound. They probably already smelled his blood, which would only add to Raidh’s problem since fae blood was so alluring and magical.

Still, Raidh didn’t get why the wolves were reacting so strongly. He could usually go places without any issue. The only species he had to be very careful of were vampires and winged beasts.

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