Page 10 of Omission

Newer generations with ideas of grandeur have emerged, and my patience is thin. More so when it comes to the very memory of these traitors, I watched that day from a hidden nook inside a hollow oak that still stands inside our property line as the Rossi members took great joy in killing my father, and then dragged my mother over his brutalized corpse.

I had a good view of the manor’s front door, even if I had to contort myself a bit to see. Isabella hid me there in her rush to find our sister—forgetting that small detail—with a protective spell warding off any threat, but more importantly, no one outside my family could sense my location.

“Long live our king! Long live our king!” a male voice shouted with glee, the sadistic tone of the Rossi clan’s leader carrying throughout our lands, and those with him joined in on the mocking chant. They laughed while feet stomped the ground, the horde shaking the very soil they stood upon, and I felt the vibrations from my hidden prison.

My eyes snapped open then, and I bit down on my bottom lip until it bled, gnawing at the flesh until I knew a permanent scar would be left behind as a reminder of this night.

There were so many witches here, and they all smelled of rotting flesh. This acrid perfume permeated every inch of these lands as they dragged my father out our front door while down on his knees. He didn’t fight back or challenge their magic, letting them brandish attacks like whips that burned his body from different angles.

Our king’s blood stained the floor. My father’s pain was palpable.

And yet, when his head rose and his eyes met mine inside the tree a final time, all I could feel was his love. His absolute pride and faith in knowing we’d protect our people and then avenge his death after securing our future. It was all there in his soft smile and the nod sent my way, an action none of his executioners saw right before he mouthed the words: close your eyes, son.

And a second after I did, my father was gone.

I felt it. His death.

This painful tear in my soul as our familial bond was brutally ripped from me, leaving behind a gaping wound. Everything hurt. To breathe or move or cry—it took everything inside me not to release the untrained and a bit hostile magic that resided within me at the time, but then I remembered his words…

Volatile emotions are uncontrollable and will kill you from within.

I couldn’t destroy the sacrifice he and my mother so unselfishly made for their children and our future generations.

I lost a part of me that night, and only my fated mate would make me whole again. It’s a day I abhor and long for in the same breath. She’ll always be a reminder of my past while also serving as a balm to soothe and patch the cracks left behind.

“Yes. Arrange a meeting in San Lucido three days from now.”

“Any place in particular?”

“We’ll phone him the location and time the night before and warn him to come alone. Total discretion.” San Lucido isn’t near his home or my forest, but close to a grouping of smaller covens that reside near the Italian coast and who know my aunt well, and right now, she’s still my main priority. “Something’s wrong, Augusto. I can feel it—this prickling of foreboding has been growing over the last few weeks, and I’m restless. Since before our last visit to werewolf territory.”

“What do you sense? Does it have anything to do with Silla’s insistence with Isa?”

He—everyone—was put off by my aunt's need to speak with my sister. They find it pushy, while I thought it necessary, but now I’m wondering…

Did Silla know she’d be taken?

Did she want help from Isabella?

Nodding, I turn and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows inside my study and take in the beauty of our lands. This forest is lush and dense, vast beyond what the eye can see, and brimming with secrets that few are privy to.

There’s also a deep connection between us; a link—to each towering tree and the bright green moss that decorates each thick and gnarled trunk—that’s ever alive inside my chest. I feel the sway of each leaf as if it were my limb. I enjoy the warm sun as it heats these grounds and the heavy scent of damp soil and blooming wildflowers that perfume my home.

Then there’s the people and fauna that thrive here. From witches to animals, we’re united by an intricate ecosystem, and I’m humbled to be their king.

Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly as I listen to an ancient song that not many are privy to. Most species alive aren’t, but I can make out the low cadence of every rustle or chirp and then the low hum of those souls who died here.

Not like Gabriella and her gift, the ability to give and take a life, but more of an acknowledgment of the magic that dwells on these lands.

“Utter devastation and then peace.”

“My king, I do not understand. What does that mean?”

“Neither do I.” It’s the truth. The two emotions are contradicting, on opposite sides of the spectrum, and I’ve yet to decipher if this is an inclination of what’s to come. I need to speak with Isabella. Maybe she’s seen something? “Truth is, I’m at odds with myself and not much is making sense, Augusto. Yet, I—”

The pounding of feet rushing in our direction stops me seconds before there’s a sharp knock at the door. I’m already turning toward the entrance, as is Augusto, when the voice of an older witch, a female I’ve hired to help me run the house, filters through the wooden structure.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt, but King Evergreen’s on the phone. He says it’s urgent.” She’s agitated. Her worry is palpable through the tremble in her tone. “He’s called five times now.”

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