Page 5 of Until the Stars Fall

Today was no different.

Without looking up from his work, he harrumphed.

“Where’s Brennan?”

I cleared my throat, preparing to offer up one of the numerous excuses I kept tucked in my back pocket for whenever my brother let me down. But Brennan’s voice, as casual as ever, wafted over my shoulder.

“I’m here.”

The king’s dark eyes shifted and pinned us both with the sharp glare we’d grown up with. When his attention settled on me, my chest involuntarily constricted, as if bolstering my defenses against whatever was coming.

“Who was he busy screwing this time?”

Why doesn’t he ask Brennan? Who am I, the keeper of my brother’s sexual conquests?

Unable to voice any of those questions, I replied with a lazy lift of one shoulder. “A redhead from the pub, I assume.”

A growl rumbled in our father’s throat, but he seemed eerily calm when he sat back in his chair and looked Brennan up and down.

“I used to bed any fae wench back in my youth too, so don’t think I don’t understand the appeal.”

Brennan’s cocky grin appeared in my periphery, but it was shot away with the king’s next words.

“But it all ends eventually. It has to end.” He stretched the last sentence out to hammer home his point, and for a long moment he stared Brennan down, as if willing him—with a mere glare—to understand.

“And it will, Father,” Brennan said.

Stop now,I silently urged him.

But, of course, he didn’t.

“When I’m ready, it will—”

Our father’s fists slammed down on his desk as he rose to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the floor. The entire desk shifted forward from the force of the blow. Brennan was lucky there was such a heavy piece of furniture standing between them to keep our father from strangling him.

“IT ENDS NOW!” the king bellowed so loudly that the oil lamp on the corner of his desk shook.

Without turning my head, I peered at my brother to find him fighting that familiar battle between retreating and holding his ground against the beast he’d foolishly poked. But something new flashed across his features. The muscles along his jaw and around his eyes tightened. His eyes briefly met mine, and I shifted my head just enough for him to get my message to stand down.

Brennan understandably wanted to live his own life, but he was a prince. The sooner he accepted this, the easier life would be for him. Maybe he wouldn’t be happier, but he’d at least stop having to take the brunt of our father’s outbursts. Harsh words were the king’s typical disciplinary tool of choice, inflicting a different kind of damage than his fists ever could. With only words, he could leave hidden wounds that ran deep, cutting our souls down with each tongue-lashing and pushing us down into the muck of our own self-loathing.

I’d learned to tread carefully around our father, but Brennan hadn’t yet. He needed to soon. Thankfully, though, he was heeding my advice today and backing down from the challenge he’d wanted to raise.

“Yes, Father,” he finally said.

A heavy exhale pulled King Nevan’s shoulders low, and after righting his chair, he sat back down. For several breaths he remained silent, glancing from one of us to the other and back again. I tried to relax under his intense scrutiny, but I couldn’t draw in enough slow breaths to ease the discomfort.

When his gaze landed squarely on Brennan, I nearly gave an audible sigh of relief.

“As you’ve been otherwise preoccupied, Brennan,” he started, a smirk threatening to pull at his lips, “you may not be aware of the turmoil brewing among the four kingdoms.”

Brennan shook his head, and I couldn’t help but envy my younger brother for not having to deal with the constant political tension.

Our father continued. “As second-born, the likelihood of your taking the Emeryn crown is slim, and with your brother’s expertise in combat and political maneuvers, it is slimmer still. I expect him to have a long and prosperous rule.”

While I worked to keep my chest from puffing up from his praise, Brennan seemed to be struggling to not deflate. He might not want to rule, but that didn’t mean he wanted his lesser station thrown in his face.

“But you may be exactly who we need to stave off ruin.”

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