Force of Attraction

Chapter 1.5

My face is hot as I meet my mother’s grinning eyes— the same shade of hazel as mine.

To make embarrassing and awkward matters worse, my kettle begins to hiss and the sleeping draught I was making is now boiling over my counter.

“Oh!” I rush over, beginning to mop up the mess. My mother crosses with a laugh, helping lift the kettle off the heat.

“John, it’s good to see you; would you like to stay for breakfast this morning?”

“I would love to.” He gives a dashing smile.

Hopefully, the need to fill his stomach distracts him from his insane notion of leaving. And when he’s full, he’ll be more sensible to talk to.

“I have work to do,” I needlessly remind them both.

“And doing it on an empty stomach is pointless.” My mother tucks wayward strands of fiery hair—the same bright hue as mine—back into her bun.

“Take a break, hardworking daughter of mine. You are not going to be saving a life in the twenty minutes it takes you to eat some rice and boiled egg.”

“One of your delicious rice sounds lovely, Mrs. Rael.”

“It’s Heather, John, you know that.” My mother titters and I roll my eyes.

“Now, come upstairs, both of you.” Plates of food already dished out were in the center of the table—lavender and orange.

It’s incredible the number of different plants that grow on Azrael’s island. Too many. So many that it should be impossible. But the main water source for the island flows through the Gateway itself, making the impossible, possible here.

Father is seated at the head of the table. His glasses hang on the tip of his nose as he looks over pRaelwork—no doubt going over speeches before the town hall today. “Good morning, John,” he says without looking up.

John has been coming around since I could walk and is as much a staple in this kitchen as my mother’s iron pot or my potted herb garden in the back window.

“Surprised to see you today.” He pauses. “Though I suppose today is the usual day you escort Lana to the forest.”

“I thought we could get it done before the sun was up. That way I could get back to my duties as Keeper,” John says cordially as he sits, helping himself to a plate. No mention of trying to steal me away, thankfully.

“What are the Keepers doing about all this?” Mother asks from where she works a skillet behind me.

“Mother—”

“We’re doing our best to find the Human Queen,” John says calmly.

“Well, maybe there shouldn’t be a Human Queen,” Mother huffs.

“Heather,” Father cautions.

“It’s true, Mark, and you know it. The Azrael Council is just as bad as the Keepers.” Mother is as aggressive as the boiling water she pulls eggs from.

“Can we just have a nice breakfast, please?” I beg. I’m so tired of hearing about the Keepers pointing the finger at the Azrael Council for not being more aggressive in trying to find the Human Queen by interrogating the townsfolk, and the council pointing the finger at the Keepers for not sharing more of their werewolf relics or histories that could help identify the Human Queen.

Father thinks there must be something the Keepers are hiding. John claims otherwise and says the council doesn’t share enough information with the temple. They both look to me to take their side and it takes all of my effort to remind them that all I care about is keeping the people of this island healthy—I have no horse in their race.

“If there’s no Human Queen then all of humanity dies a horrible death as they use their wild magic to peel our skin from our bones, turn us into beasts of the deep woods, curdle our blood, and worse; I think it’s safe to say none of us want that.” Father flips through his papers.

“We’re dying now.” Mother situates the eggs on a platter and sets them on the table. “You’ve heard about the Weakness. Men and women are falling where they stand. We are dying like any regular human on the mainland.”

“Once there is a Human Queen the order will be restored and the treaty will be fulfilled,” Father says. “No more of this Weakness.”

“Is that true? Do we know that things will return to normal for certain?” Mother turns to John.

“So the texts that outline the treaty say.” John peels an egg.

She sighs and grabs a plate of rice, eating and mumbling, “While I hate the notion of this Human Queen business, if it must happen then let it be done with. My heart bleeds for the family whose daughter will be taken if they don’t find her on time though” Mother squeezes my hand. I’m too old—historically the queens have displayed magic and wolfish characteristics at sixteen or seventeen. I remember a few years when my parents watched me like a hawk. Thankfully, there’s not a trace of werewolf magic in me.

“What a grim circumstance to see your daughter get married under.” “Speaking of weddings,” John says casually. “Has Lana told you both yet?” My parents exchange a look with me.

I glance nervously between them and John. I’ve no idea what he’s talking about. “Told us what?” Father is the one to ask. “Lana has agreed to marry me.”