Page 3 of King of Knights

“The Ricci family has been the most just we have served. Although, I don’t believe any of that matters now,” my youngest brother, Reilly, says.

He’s the most calm of us all. He has the ability to stay rational in all things. However, if you get on Rye’s bad side, you are likely to get consumed in his fury like a man in quicksand.

Reilly has dark hair like I used to and tanned skin like Bradan and I. His golden eyes tell stories as they dance with hidden secrets beyond what they initially reveal.

I’m amused by Rye’s ability to see the silver lining in just about anything. I snuff out the flame in my palm and lift to my feet.

My study has an old-world feel that I love. There was a time when life was so simple for me and my kind. My brothers and I built this place with a fraction of our own power.

Knowing someday we’d need to stick to the shadows, away from the humans who live above. If time has taught us nothing else, it’s shown us to always be prepared.

If only the world of Manhattan knew the power that rests beneath it. We glamoured the old buildings on the street level ages ago. Just as we have done with the bar we’ve owned and run for more decades than I care to count.

Humans tend to stay away from outlaws. Over the centuries, we’ve stuck to this, adapting to the image of each era. Not once has the theory wavered. The more dangerous we appear. The more they stay away.

Only a few venture close enough to learn the truth behind our veiled persona. Those we can trust remain among us. Those whose intentions are of a dark nature are disposed of.

After all, we are cultivating a fortress system for ourselves and others—the beings humans fear and call supernatural. They fear us, but we have reasons to be wary of them and their world as well.

Immorality comes with loopholes for every kind, some more than others. As original beings, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to give other immortals a place to hide in plain sight. The Immortal Iron Brothers MC is a motorcycle club to the human world, but our brotherhood is so much more than meets the natural eye.

“They have been just? They have enslaved us all. Four generations we have served. How is that just?” Bradan bites out.

Rounding my desk, I move to stand before it and lean back against its front. I handcrafted this desk in one of my darkest times. It alone holds so much of my power. No one has been able to come close to it since its completion.

Not even my three brothers. Each has only ever made it a foot near before my power rolls off the cherrywood and starts to oppress their own energy and powers. It is one of the reasons I hide our deepest, darkest secret within it.

A secret I won’t share with anyone as it could ruin us all. I love my brothers dearly. I would give my life for them and have once come very close to doing so. Our life has not been an easy one. Long, very long, but never easy.

I fold my arms across my chest. My T-shirt stretches across my muscles and the leather of my cut whines under the movement. The Immortal Iron Brothers cut. It has been on my back for centuries now. One of the things I’ve learned to see as a constant.

I tilt my head. “Hold on, I want to hear him out. Rye, what makes you think this?” I question with a smirk. “How has the biggest mob family in New York and New Jersey since the nineteen twenties been any form of just?”

“Yeah, yeah, Kendrick. I get both your points, but as I said, none of that really matters now,” Reilly grumbles.

“This change, does that mean they will escape their fate? To never have sons again. Without a son, it would be nearly impossible to keep their bond with us,” Ardan says with wrinkled brows.

“I wonder, how do you suppose they were trying to keep the bond if they truly feel they’re hiding this fact from us?” Bradan finishes Ardan’s thought.

“I don’t think that has anything to do with the change,” Reilly says, his eyes distant as if he’s still trying to piece it all together.

“Purpose or not, this is the question I’ve asked myself. One or both of them have a child, and each has kept their children hidden from us. The gods will not allow me to see these children, but I’m absolutely sure they’re not male,” I say in frustration.

“Reilly, can you see them now?” Ardan asks.

“No, that’s the one thing I’m confused about. I see a change. A loss. However, there’s a new beginning I cannot reach. As if it hasn’t been pulled together yet.”

“Um,” I hum in thought.

I go to see if I can channel a vision of our future. However, Bradan speaks, grabbing my attention. I turn my gaze to him instead of within.

“You mentioned names. The fates have given us names but no faces. They are all male names. Yet you don’t see males in the bloodline of this generation,” Bradan muses.

“How is it you can’t see past the last generation? It’s odd that you, of all of us, cannot see them,” Ardan murmurs. “Have you thought of removing your iron?”

“No,” I say emphatically.

Ardan holds his hands up. “It was only a suggestion.”

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