Page 83 of Songs of Retribution

“Lennox,”Father had boomed, his eyes fixed in our direction even if he couldn’t see us. He’d recognized the trace of my magic and our element of surprise was gone.

Behind us, soldiers roared as they fought, dragons breathed blinding fire, and beings fell from their mounts, landing on the earth to breathe their last. Shaan pressed his lips over my neck, his eyelashes brushing my skin. I let that feeling sink into me for a heartbeat then I jumped down from the kelpie and pulled a dart out. I didn't have the blowgun the Seelie used. We could probably find one among the fallen troops if we had time. Soldiers screamed behind us as the dragons formed a united front and took out hundreds upon hundreds with one sweep of flames.

Time was the one thing we didn't have.

I ran towards Father. He disappeared.

God damn him. The one occasion he'd use glamour would be now.

"To your right," Shaan called out.

I felt it then— Father's presence, his great looming authority. I tried to shift to the side but tripped over a fallen soldier. Father came back into view right as his fist slammed forward, catching me on the nose.

Pain exploded through me. My glamour wobbled and fell off me with the impact. I redoubled my magic to make sure Shaan remained covered.

Father sneered and gave a cruel laugh. "It's amusing that you think you could take me. You can't fight, even with your beauty magic. You couldn't even stand up to the lowest soldiers in our army. What makes you think you can take me, boy?"

I rose to my feet. Blood poured from my nose, dripping into my teeth. I could feel Shaan's panic through our connection, his magic crackling and aching to unleash. But this wasn't Shaan's battle to fight.

This was about me and my father. About every time he'd verbally beaten me down and every time he'd wanted to physically do the same. I dropped my glamour as I stood, met Father's clear blue eyes, and raised my chin. "I think I can take you because I'm stronger than you in ways you don’t understand."

He growled and plowed towards me, slamming a fist into my jaw so stars sprang into my vision. He slammed another hit into my stomach and a third in my side which landed with a crack that I was certain broke something.

My body hurt like hell had dragged me down and caught me in eternal flame. My breathing grew shallow and difficult.

I forced a laugh past my lips and ignored the desperation flooding from Shaan. "Is that all you've got?"

Father slammed his hands into my chest, knocking me to the ground so my injuries all blared with pain. I stumbled up and attempted to move towards him, but magic washed over me, and I found myself on the ground again.

It disoriented me. I’d gotten up and prepared to make my move and the next moment I was back where I’d begun.

Lennox.Shaan’s emotions screamed like pure panic, and I focused on his terror-ridden voice.He’s using memory magic on you. He’s going to disorient you and kill you while you’re distracted.

We’d spent weeks discussing how some of our soldiers had lost their magic, and Father attempted to steal it. Apparently he’d been successful. I wrapped my glamour tighter around Shaan. If Father managed to kill me, I wanted my magic to protect him as long as possible so he could finish things before my father noticed him.

Lennox.Shaan’s terror was like a third pulse between us, ricocheting around, fueled by an endless current of love. The one thing that would burn past my lifetime. It was such a comfort it nearly drained the throbbing pain and trembling fear from me.

That’s not what he’s going to do,I said.It wouldn’t be glorious enough for him.

He doesn’t care about glory. He wants you dead.

All he’s ever cared about is glory.The truth of that hit me, settling like heavy snow in the winter.

Father stared at me, his nose wrinkling. Blood dripped over my lips, flooding into my mouth. I’d tasted blood before for the sake of his pride. The memory surged through me. The emotions startled Shaan, his anxiety roiling through my mind.

Father had forced me into military training when I was fourteen—too young according to the commander, but Father had just scoffed.Not too young for our family.

I’d returned a few weeks later beaten, an eye blackened, my lips still cracked and bleeding when I licked them. “Please,” I’d begged him. “I’m not created for this. Let me withdraw.”

Father had glared down at me, the bookcases in his office stretching beyond him like foreboding shadows. I’d not reached my adult height yet, and he loomed like a giant. “Seelie don’t quit, Lennox. We don’t take the easy route. Are you too Froh to understand that?”

I trembled, my muscles close to giving out. “Perhaps I am.”

“Then manifest their magic.” He sneered at me. “Do that and I’ll let you take leave to focus on your powers. If you cannot, then be a man and finish.”

My eyes had stung but I blinked against the emotions, shoved them down as I was rapidly learning to do, and limped out of his office. I’d spent the next weeks staying up most nights, trying desperately to pull even a scrap of light or shadow magic. I never did.

Now I lay sprawled before the same man who’d not loved his vulnerable child who lost his mother, had not loved his adolescent who didn’t fit his mold, didn’t love him even when he’d broken himself to please the man. That man wouldn’t love him as an adult who didn’t meet his standards either.

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