Page 25 of Empire of Death
“Then—then what do I do?”
“You forget you’re a master of the seas yourself. That you’re among your own here on Skull Island. And you forget your ability to raise the dead from the depths as well as land to fight for you. You don’t need your dragons to win this battle.”
I supposed all of that was true. “But I’m not sure if I have the time. I need to return to the Southern Isles and prepare for war. And I still need to find the cure for my father’s ailment. Going into a battle for people who aren’t even my own sounds like a huge detour.”
He absorbed my concerns in silence as he thought it through. “If you win the loyalty of most of the Brigandine Empire, that’s fifty galleons, easily five thousand men. Not an insignificant number. Expert sailors who know battle from the sea better than your own navy because they’ve spent their entire lives upon the deck of a ship. And I really believe you need every breathing soldier if you’re going to win this war.”
My eyes flicked back and forth between his as I felt the heft of his words. “Why do you say that?”
He continued to stare at me, his hard eyes like a stone wall. “Because I see everything.”
9
WRATH
It was early in the morning when his guest snuck out of bed and quietly got dressed before she slipped out the door.
Hawk was awake but pretended to be asleep because he was still deep in boyhood. When manhood arrived, he wouldn’t shy away from the awkwardness of a one-night stand, would walk her to the door and have no issue saying goodbye. Tension was a by-product of unmet expectations, and if he correctly set them at the time of their meeting, there would be nothing to hide.
I returned an hour later, when he was fully dressed and his hair was damp from the shower he’d taken. He was in his uniform and his armor, and when he slid his blade back into his scabbard across his back, I appeared before him.
It took him a second to process what his eyes tried to tell his mind, and when that realization set in, he quickly jerked back as his eyes widened in a panic. That was everyone’s reaction the first time they saw me, even Kennt’s.
Except Lily.
He took another step back as he quickly sized me up, as he tried to understand how I had appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t ask who I was, so he seemed to piece it together, the only explanation for my ability to appear from literally nowhere. “My soul isn’t for sale—and I’ll kill you if you try to take Lily’s.”
My borderline poor opinion of his character changed when I heard the brave thing he said. “Lucky for you, I want neither.”
“Then what do you want, demon?”
“I’m a god, not a demon.”
“Then what do you?—”
“Silence your words, and I will tell you.” I raised my voice in a way I never did with Lily. Lily believed she’d witnessed moments of my wrath, but she hadn’t witnessed any of it at all. From the first moment I looked upon her face, I’d tended to her like a flower in winter. Touched her with the utmost delicacy. Brought her the sunshine when it rained. Watered her roots during the harshest drought. Cared for her like she was the only blossom in my garden. And everyone else got a much different version of me. “A great war comes, not only for the Southern Isles, but all your neighbors and allies in this hemisphere. The victor of that battle has yet to be decided, and you waste precious time arguing for a crown that may not even exist shortly. Because the history of the Rothschilds may shortly be erased. Your father may succumb to his injuries because you were too busy thinking of your own power rather than his delicate life. Your mother and sister may be raped and forced into bearing children they don’t want because precious time was spent arguing over something that your father had already decided. Do you want to be remembered as the child who didn’t get what he wanted? Or the general who served his queen to victory?”
Hawk didn’t take another step back, but he watched me with a face tinted red in rage or fear.
“Your father made his decision—and it’s a very wise decision. Any hope you have for victory is under her rulership. Accept what’s already been decided and raise your sword for her crown—or expect another visit from me.”
“Why have you blessed her with such gifts?” he asked like he hadn’t heard a word I said. “What do you expect in return?”
“I grant her my army and my strength freely.”
“But why?—”
“Because I believe in Queen Lily Rothschild of the Southern Isles—and you should too.”
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine, reminding me of his sister in the way he kept his spine straight, even though he stood in the presence of evil. “Of course I believe in her?—”
“Then prove it, Hawk Rothschild.”
“I would die for her.”
“As her brother. Not her general—and that’s what needs to change. While your heart is full of bravery and courage from your Rothschild blood, you lack the depth and experience that your sister possesses. You’re unfit to rule, and since no one has been kind enough to say it to your face, I will.”
“Kind enough?”
