Page 7 of A Rift in the House of Bruin

“Jase, you’re young, but I never thought you were that naïve. There’s a web of alliances that’s been years in the making. You can’t flit back into court and unwind everything with your charm and a stiff drink. They plan to take the crown from us,” Fallon scolded, stepping up to him. Her petite frame looked almost comical as she challenged her brother.

“You’re imagining things. Why don’t?—”

“She’s right!” I interrupted.

“Oh? Do you know something, Mic?” Nico asked, taking an interest in the sibling rivalry. All eyes in the room shifted to me, and I instantly regretted speaking up.

“Mirabelle… I mean, the maid. She told me we couldn’t trust everyone. That you’d lost your kingdom while you were away.” I stumbled through the sorry excuse for evidence, hoping to corroborate Fallon’s claims.

A heavy silence settled over the room. The pop and crack of the fire sounded annoyingly loud as I fidgeted, waiting for someone to speak.

“The maid?” Jase laughed. “You’ve been in Hiraeth a few days and you think we should condemn the entire kingdom based on the loose tongue of a gossiping lady’s maid?” He kept laughing while the other princes joined in—everyone except Nico and Luca.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should listen to the girl,” Fallon said. “You don’t know what I’ve seen since Father died.”

“You don’t need to worry anymore, Fallon. The males have returned. You can go back to planning your parties, fucking your way through the married nobles, and getting high on brimshade,” Jase said.

A loud crack made me jump as her hand connected with his face. “How dare you! I held this place together while you were off gallivanting around the cosmos. I’m not some hapless female. I know what I’m talking about.” Her lip trembled as she fought back emotion.

“Have you looked around, Fallon? The realm is falling apart under your watch. You should have sent for us the moment Father died instead of pretending you could run the house alone. You let Johan get too comfortable in the stewardship. You’re not cut out for this. You’re too fragile.”

“That’s enough, Jase,” Nico commanded. “But he’s right about one thing—there’s nothing to worry about. Everything will go as planned with the Crownspire. Johan will return the Bloodstone Sigil to me.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Fallon asked.

“He has no choice. The ring will reject him. I am the rightful king,” Nico asserted.

“Are you so sure?” Fallon challenged. “He’s worn it all this time without any of the signs.”

“He never should have been allowed to place it on his finger to begin with,” Finn chided. “Now the ring has granted him all of our father’s secrets.”

“You weren’t fucking here,” Fallon hissed through clenched teeth.

“The ring gave him enough power to manage the stewardship, nothing more. He’s not the chosen king, and no one will stand behind him—not while the realm is in such upheaval. The poor are poorer, the fields are failing, jails are full of debtors and thieves, disease is rampant in Dunharrow. Thehouses once supported our father. Rest assured, they’ll support my rightful ascension. Besides, we are unstoppable now that Hiraeth has restored our gifts.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I knew the princes were shifters. I’d seen them transform into bears with my own eyes. But now it seemed their return home had unlocked even more powers—powers I knew nothing about. I’d thought I imagined it when I crossed the veil into Hiraeth, a strange feeling like something inside me had shifted. Had the realm itself alteredmesomehow?

I’d always known I wasn’t normal. A terminal cancer diagnosis at fifteen proved that to be true. Even that had changed when I finally learned the truth. What our realm called cancer was something else entirely—a dangerous manifestation of magic in a body too weak to contain it. A trial I hadn’t yet survived. One I still didn’t understand. The fae called it Tribulation, as if giving it a name wrapped in prophecy and purpose could make it easier to bear. But I could never bring myself to call it that. To me, it would always be cancer—a word sharp with memory. A worthy opponent I’d spent my life fighting. The power thrumming through me wasn’t a gift. It was a curse waiting to devour me from the inside out.

Hiraeth must have sensed it. Or maybe it had only amplified what was already there. The nausea. The tightening in my chest. The voices in my head. The cold sweat down my spine. It all coalesced into a suffocating sense of dread, like death himself was breathing down my neck and whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

Now, standing among these brothers I barely knew—who claimed they wanted to help me—I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d wandered into something far more dangerous than I realized. I might be the unwitting prey that followed the predators right into their den. If I survived the night, I’d need to find answers. I refused to be vulnerable any longer.

“Everyone needs to be on their best behavior tonight,” Nico continued. “Plan to be here first thing in the morning. We begin the hard work of getting this realm back on track.”

“What are you going to tell them about her?” Finn spoke from the back of the room, his massive figure lounging against the fireplace. He was second in line behind Nico and clearly didn’t want me at this family meeting. His hawkish eyes had tracked every move I’d made from across the room. “And for the record, I’m not in favor of her coming tonight. It brings too much tension to an already fucked situation,” he added, pushing off the mantle.

“Her presence at the Crownspire is not up for debate,” Nico said.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Just like her supposed role in the prophecy. You’ve shut down all conversations about that, too.”

“Now is not the time, Finn. All you need to know is that I have the best scribes working on it. We’ll sort through it once this transfer of power business is behind us.”

What in the bloody hell was going on? This meeting only served to shine a light on the fact that I knew absolutely nothing. Powers and prophecies, back stabbing nobles and family skeletons? How had I gotten myself so entangled in this madness?

“We can tell them she’s his concubine,” Jase cut in. “A strange fetish for our new king. The staff will be talking for months.”

Finn waved him off. “Nice try, Jase. That might not go over so well with his betrothed. Nyla Taryn won’t tolerate that kind of hit to her reputation. Her family would make trouble for us over something like that.”

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