Page 20 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

Consumed by the girl’s face, he hadn’t fully digested that, for the first time in forever, he had lost control of his own emotions. He never showed depth to anyone.

And she had held her own with him using her snappy tongue, which was even more interesting. Never before had a woman spoken to him in that manner. He took another step back so that his spine was against the wall.

This girl had unlocked emotions that he kept in a crypt, in the deepest part of his soul. He didn’t let any feelings venture out.

Whatever that outburst was, he knew it had been a mistake. Emotional outbursts were always a mistake. He looked over to the blonde—Cally—and her stare gave off a stunned look too.

Unable to find any more words, Torin left the room without looking back, closing the door on his emotional depth, too.

Viktir Blacksteel stood like a monarch at the front of the briefing room, dressed in all black leather. Gideon listened as his father, the commander, went through the briefing in fine detail of how last night’s mission had gone. The commander always gave a breakdown on where improvements could be made or what he would like done differently.

Demon hunters dated back millennia, traced back to the bloodline of Thorin, the God of the Sun and War. The Blacksteel hunting clan were a relatively tight clan; small in comparison to others, having around thirty to forty hunters across the Huntswood territory and some more in other parts of the kingdom. Although they were one of the smaller clans, they were notorious throughout the kingdom of Caledorna for their ferocity and unyielding devotion to the hunt. Much like their larger brethren in the west, the Stryker hunting clan.

No matter their size, it was still their oath of devotion to this world to protect Caledorna’s humans and other magical factions. The tower was located between Huntswood and Mossgrave and had been in the Blacksteel family name for centuries. They lived there to ensure that the people of the city were protected from anything that surfaced from the underworld. Huntswood was a city in the heart of the kingdom, well known for its spike in individual fashions and infamous for its markets. It was surrounded by forests on the southern half of the territory and buildings from the city on the northern half. It was a city birthed by nature, the best of both worlds.

“The four quarters still remain under control; the wards haven’t been compromised by the Dark Army,” Viktir assured his men. “Although we believe they are making attempts to bring them down.”

Most of the hunting buildings were protected by magical wards that acted as a shield against demons. However, you required elemental magic to raise the wards, and a strong witch or her coven to keep the wards bound to whatever you were protecting.

Viktir’s chin raised and his eyes narrowed to the back of the room. Gideon’s gaze followed, to find his oldest brother. Torin looked like he had sent his mind off to a different realm. His blue eyes glared at the desk he sat beside, his thoughts elsewhere. His father’s booming voice brought Gideon back to attention.

“I have advised the prime of how many we have staying under the tower’s roof and that we plan on telling the residents of Mossgrave in the next few days about the truths of the Dark Army.” Viktir took a moment to breathe. “The witches of the north have informed us that they have had a few unsettling incidents among their humans in the mountains.”

Gideon’s ears perked up, knowing that “a few unsettling incidents” meant something else entirely. Human slaughtering. And probably multiple.

Viktir continued, “Maradia will be keeping us informed if any more demons slip through the portals close to the House of Air Quarters.”

Being the Empress of Air and the leader of her house, Maradia often aligned herself and her coven along with the hunters, keen to keep a good relationship should she need their protection or guardianship. There were no hunting clans based in the north, only a few hunters that stood in as guards to important witches, so they had to monitor what happened up north.

His father raised his voice a notch. “The clans have tightened their units across the kingdom and will be doubling their patrols.” He took a breath and refocused himself on Torin. “We will be doing the same.” His jaw tightened. “I have notified the shifter leaders in Huntswood and Ashdale; therefore, it will be down to them to communicate the news to their packs to patrol their territory. I have sent word to Skyelir, too, informing the fae. When the prime sends word, I will inform you all.” Pausing, his eyes hardened. “Keep your senses alert. Do not lose focus this close to the Blood Moon. Your lives depend on it.” He nodded, his hands placed firmly behind his back. “Torin, Gideon, and Kellen, stay behind. The rest of you are free to go to the training rooms and start patrols.”

The men took their command and headed out of the briefing room doorway. Torin had gotten rid of whatever had taken up space in his mind and now his eyes were on his father.They were both twisting their features in the same way, sharpening them, ruling them even more alike.

“Kellen,” Viktir announced his youngest’s name. His father’s voice was so worryingly upbeat that it made Gideon flinch. “Congratulations! Marcus informed me that you were the only Blacksteel that made it to your combat session this morning.”

Ah, shit!

Gideon had been so distracted that he had forgotten that he was training for combat at dawn.

He hadn’t missed a session in years.

“Torin.” Viktir took in a small breath and then released it slowly as he turned to face him directly. His nostrils flared. “I heard about your little incident with one of the human girls in the infirmary.”

Gideon’s head snapped towards Torin.

He could have sworn he saw Torin’s back straighten and embarrassment gush onto his face; but he must have imagined it, because Torin wasn’t one to get embarrassed easily. So, what exactly had happened when he’d left him with Cally? Surely, he couldn’t have caused that much damage.

“An assistant healer informed me that Rhea has had to rebandage the girl’s arm,” Viktir snarled. “Apparently, she is still in shock and hasn’t spoken a single word since you left.”

Gideon tried to locate the bandage on Cally’s arm, but he couldn’t remember the blonde having a wound on her arm.

And then something awful clicked in his mind. His father wasn’t referring to Cally, was he? He was referring to the raven-haired girl. The girl who had spent more time kicking around his thoughts than he had liked her to. His fingers curled around the desk.

What did Torin do?

“Rhea is with her now, giving her a calming ritual. Hopefully the shock of you invading her personal space will have died down by the time the healer is done. I cannot stress this enough: We can’t have human guests screaming in the tower because of one of my Gods-damned sons.” Viktir’s lips pulled back over his teeth tautly and he glared.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed on Torin’s face. Curiosity was killing him from the inside out, but Torin gave nothing away. Gideon straightened in his chair, something protective rising in his instincts.

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