Page 5 of A Rift in the House of Bruin

“Can I trust you?”

“Asks the human girl who’s bewitched my incredibly rich and powerful brothers.”

“I didn’t bewitch anyone. I only need a…” I paused before telling her I was here to find a healer, unsure how much of my story I should reveal. She was ultimately a stranger. I had to look out for myself. I wasn’t aware of how much her brothers had told her about me. The less I shared, the better. At least it would keep me from being caught in a lie. “I only need to attend to a few things and I’ll be on my way. Besides, Lucius is my friend. He vouched for me.”

She visibly flinched at the mention of her exiled brother. She brought the cigarette to her lips again, this time with trembling fingers, taking a deep drag.

“You’ve seen Lu—umm, the lost prince?” she asked, her gaze drifting off in feigned disinterest.

“Yes.”

“So he’s good, then?”

“A little broken and rough around the edges, but he’s good. I owe him my life.”

She tapped the cigarette against her lip, letting out an amused laugh that didn’t fit the mood of our conversation. Her eyes glazed over, as though she wasn’t entirely present in the moment.

“Well then, let’s get on with it,” she said, snapping out of it, all trace of emotion wiped from her face in a heartbeat. The only lingering sign was a glassy sheen to her dark brown eyes. “I’ve come to collect you. There’s a family meeting. We have a few things to discuss before the Crownspire.”

“Family meeting? Attending the festivities is one thing, but I don’t think it’s right for me to sit in on a family meeting. I’m only a guest here.”

“Only a guest? If only it were that simple.” She walked to the window, snubbing out her cigarette on the heavy wooden shutter, then tossed out the remnants. “Nothing is simple anymore, girl. But I get the feeling you knew that already.”

“I don’t know what any of this has to do with me. Maybe it’s better if I just go home.” As the words slipped out, I realized there was nothing to return home to. Going back to London was a death sentence.

“Spare me the ‘woe is me’ routine. You’ll not find an ounce of empathy from me. Fate has made you a part of this, whether you’re a willing participant or not. You’ll come to this family meeting. You’ll hear what needs to be said, and then you’ll play your part. End of story.”

“Apparently, guest is synonymous with prisoner here.”

“Coercion, yes. But you’d rue the day you became my prisoner. So I suggest you get moving.”

I followedFallon out of the visitor’s wing. In the days since I arrived, I’d been cooped up in my assigned room and hadn’t ventured far. The pair of heavily armed guards who stood watch at the end of the cavernous hallway had been a convincing deterrent. With Fallon in the lead, we breezed past without so much as a sideways glance.

The nagging concern over tonight's festivities was momentarily forgotten as the grandeur of Mathenholm Castle filled me with wonder. Hallways split in every direction, and there seemed to be no end to the sprawling castle. Frescos of males and beasts covered the soaring ceilings overhead.

A grand hall led into a breathtaking solarium crowned by a domed glass ceiling. The evening’s newly born stars flickered down on the lush garden as twilight set in. Inlaid into the floor was a massive mosaic of a bear, warm ochre and amber glass flecked with gold gave the illusion that sunlight was dancing across its body.

The solarium itself was arranged like a compass, with four towering archways marking the cardinal points. Each bore a distinct house name carved into the stone above in its own unique style. To the east stood the House of Steggr, mirrored by the House of Lycaon to the west. The House of Rapere loomed to the south, and finally, the largest of the four—the House of Bruin—stood like a sentinel in the north.

Fallon directed me to the arched wooden doors set at the back of the enormous room. Their sheer size appeared better suited for giants. As we approached, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the place, as though each house held secrets heavy enough to crush bone. She moved without hesitation, never missing a step as the doors groaned, opening of their own volition. The elegantly carved “House of Bruin” welcomed us as we passed beneath it. A knot of tension squirmed in my gut, leaving me nauseous as the doors closed behind us—warning me that each step brought me closer to a fate I couldn’t run from.

Fallon led me through a maze of hallways, remaining annoyingly silent as we delved deeper into the estate. It did nothing to placate my anxious mind. My overactive imagination fed me an array of possible scenarios—none of which ended well for me.

She finally paused at another set of doors, her hands resting on the polished knobs for a beat, seeming to collect herself before pushing through. We entered a large sitting room. At one end, an intricate stone fireplace cast a soft glow across the elegant furnishings. Shelves packed with books lined the back walls. A round mahogany table stood at the center. Eight leather-clad chairs sat empty around it, each bearing words in a language I’d never seen before.

Only three of the princes were present, clustered near the fireplace, deep in conversation and completely oblivious to our arrival. My eyes landed on Nico. The eldest—and largest—of the brothers, he possessed a presence that commanded all the attention in the room. In the short time I’d known him, he’d worn plain, functional clothing, needing no adornment to amplify his already striking features. But now, he looked every bit the king he was destined to be.

He had swept his long brown hair back and secured it away from his bearded face. A thick fur mantle enhanced his already broad shoulders, and a black doublet with gleaming gold buttons clung to his massive frame. A heavy leather belt rested at his hips, holding a myriad of jeweled daggers. Polished black leather vambraces adorned his forearms, adding a touch of menace to his regal appearance.

Fallon cleared her throat, unceremoniously. Nico and his brothers—Luca and Hunter—turned to face us, all three locking eyes on me.

“All right, boys. Pick your chins off the floor and get your wits about you. We have business to attend to before this fiasco of an evening begins. Where are the others?” Fallon asked.

The brothers reanimated, shifting positions and straightening their jackets, all three dressed in finery that marked them unmistakably as nobility.

Luca stepped forward and dipped into a practiced bow, his blonde-streaked hair spilling over one shoulder. “Allow me to be the first to say how absolutely stunning you are.” He rose, warm honey eyes meeting mine. “If you’ll allow me?” He reached for my hand with tattooed fingers—a striking contrast to the dark green of his jacket. He pulled it toward him, his warm smile faltering just long enough to place a kiss on my knuckles.

I stood frozen. The touch of his hand, the playful gleam in his eyes, and that damn charming smile sent a flush of heat coursing through me. I managed a mumbled, “Thank you,” that infuriated me. I’d never let men get to me like that before. A momentary weakness I’d have to move past quickly if I wanted to survive in this place.

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