A Daughter of Silvaris

Chapter 4 - Backwards Bastard, Part Two

We all gawped at the split sandbag that was being replaced when we arrived. The evidence on my knuckles had healed before I’d even fallen asleep last night, so I made a quick decision to deny all knowledge. No need for Oberon or Jakon to know how little control I’d had over myself last night.

Oberon, Jakon and I trained hard. This wasn’t part of formal warrior training; we weren’t using blades or equipment or following a strictly set session. This was the High Alpha heir, the Beta heir, and the General of the Northland’s army’s son having fun. Because there wasn’t much else we loved more than the physicality and the thrill of a good scrap.

Smack.

My head swivelled sideways, and I staggered before gathering myself, taking a running leap, spinning and throwing the same kick that split the sandbag straight back at my best friend. It struck his ribs, and he hunched over, slipping down to one knee he held his right side tightly with one hand, breathing with a whisper of a grunt. I was triumphant, a smile in my eyes as I wiped the blood from my split bottom lip. Then his head lifted, and his blue eyes swirled.

He launched at me from his crouch, and our dance began again.

Oberon had a raging temper to work out—he went as hard on Jakon as he did me, pummelling into us both with calm fury in his eyes. A simple look between Jakon and I had us agreeing to go easy on each other during our spar, and I made the sensible decision to wait until after our session before asking him about his evening in the Southlands.

We only stopped when Jakon’s hand cracked when he blocked a particularly ardent left hook from Oberon. The better idea would have been a dodge. He’d have known that, and I wondered if he took the blow purposely, choosing to sacrifice his hand to stop Oberon before things got out of hand—his animalistic rage had been far too in control for long enough. We were all panting, bodies glistening with sweat and great purple bruises and welts already formed on our beaten bodies. But, we were grinning, and Oberons eyes seemed to clear as his smile reached them. Even Jakon smirked as his future High Alpha helped him strap his hand. With a little dockleaf tea and the next few nights’ moonlight it would be as though the fracture never happened within a few days.

Well, no avoiding it any longer. I had to know.

“Come on then, Oberon.” I started, wiping my brow with a towel before throwing it to him. “You’ve been on the verge of shifting all morning. What happened last night?” I searched his face for an answer.

He sucked in and loosed a deep breath, wiping his own brow before throwing the towel to Jakon. “It was… bad. Diablo Rubris really is something else,” he said, the ghost of a curl in his lip. I had known as much, but he continued, “We went to their manor, their Alpha house, I guess. It belonged to Diablo, but the whole family of them were there: his brother Salvador; and his sons Eron, Luis and Josen. No, wait, Josen was Salvadors kid... I think. Honestly, you think my family look alike? His look like they haven’t mated with anyone more distant than a first cousin for generations,” Oberon sneered.

I huffed a laugh. “So what did they want?” The edge in my voice thwarted my attempt to make my question sound casual. Jakon glanced between us.

Oberon’s expression darkened, and he took a moment to drink from his waterbag. His eyes locked with my own. “Don’t get heated Rhett. It’s over,” he said.

“Oberon…” My voice filled with deadly calm. Not a question, a demand for answers from my future High Alpha.

A muscle in his jaw ticked at the tone, a slight crease at the bridge of his nose. But he answered, nevertheless. “They had us all go down there to propose joining of our bloodlines.”

“Joining.” Another demand.

“Orion to Luis’s girl… Marcella, I think her name was. Olena to his son, Nilo.”

Jakon swore.

“They what?!” I seethed. Anger fizzed through my veins as my blood boiled. Breathing suddenly became difficult as the image of Olena shackled to a miniature Rubris flashed across my vision. Diablo towering behind them, Lena’s face downcast, all the joy and wonder that usually filled it drained into nothingness. Her precious choice, stolen away by a power-hungry maniac.

“Chill Rhett, obviously my father told them where to stick their ‘offer’. It was never going to happen.” I heard Oberon talking, but it barely registered. His voice faded into the background as the one in my head roared louder.

“Rhett.”

The world snapped back into focus. My friends were watching me through furrowed brows. What must I look like to earn those expressions. “You have to calm down,” Oberon said, his voice firm. “You can go and talk to her, but not until you’re not half Gods damned shifted.”

Looking down, my arms were indeed darkening with the first sprouting of mahogany fur. He was right. I needed to calm down. How much Jakon had known about the new feelings Olena stirred in me I didn’t know, but he certainly knew more now. Eyes closed, world shut out, I calmed my staggered breaths. “It’s not happening, right?” I asked this time, through my clenched jaw.

“Of course it isn’t happening. Father nearly shifted right there in the dining hall.”

Jakon cursed.

Oberon continued, “Ended all trade on the spot, denounced their name. I thought he might very well turn back and kill Salvador when he bared his teeth at us as we left.”

Calm. Oberon was there, and he was calm. I could be—should be calm too, so I schooled my face back into something close to neutrality—or as close as I could manage. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. They’d been to the Southlands, they’d come back alive and well, and that business was done. “I’ll… talk to her later.”

“Go now if you want to Rhett. I’m sure... she’ll be happy to talk to you,” Oberon offered. I didn’t have to think about it. He’d offered. I was going.

An exhale of small relief left my nostrils as I nodded to each of them. “I’ll see you both later.” And they nodded back. With no more words left to be said between us, I left.

I found Olena in the large ground floor sitting room, sprawled out across a tan, buttoned leather sofa in front of the enormous unlit fireplace. The main feature of the room, lit or unlit, that ornate hearth graced the room with the comforting scent of firewood—a scent that had never failed to soothe my soul, that wraps around a person like a loving hug. She was there: back laid where her bottom should sit, legs up and hanging over the back rest, feet kicking lazily, and arms outstretched holding a book above her. I stole the opportunity to simply watch her for a moment; her face, though a little distorted from her inverted position, was beautifully lost in whatever tale of fantastical lands she was reading. She sensed my presence then, and the moment was gone. I may have regretted disturbing her peace if that warm smile I was so fond of hadn’t spread across her face. My own face instantly mirrored hers. She was fine. Alive and well. In the Northlands where she was safe.

“Hey, are you—” She stopped, snapped her book shut and righted herself, bottom back sitting where bottom should sit. Olena’s lilac eyes widened as she observed me. “By the Moon Rhett, your face! What happened?!”

“Well, aren’t you charming,” I huffed, crossing my arms, feigning offence as I approached her. It earned me an eyeroll.

“Seriously, Rhett.” Her eyes darted to my throbbing cheekbone which I supposed must be sporting a wicked bruise, to the split lip. “You look awful,” she said smirking, biting her own lip, clearly trying to keep her laughter in.

I fought against my own laughter too, keeping a straight expression as I said, “Is there something about seeing me beaten and bruised that amuses you, Lena?”

“I’m just disappointed I didn’t get to see it happen.”

My composure broke at that, unable to hold in my laughter anymore I let loose a sharp laugh that sent a pain shooting down my jaw. “I wish I could say ‘you should see the other guy’, but the other guy is your brother, and he had a fierce temper this morning.”

There.

The smallest of changes, but I didn’t miss the shift in her mood. Though it was still lovely, her smile no longer reached her eyes. Gods, I hated that. And as quickly as that, I couldn’t ask. No—anything to not be the cause of the vacant look which now haunted her fair features.

“Shall we train? Perhaps you can add a few scrapes, perhaps not. I’ll let you throw the first punch,” I teased, winking. A hint of sparkle returned to her beautiful eyes, but she shook her head. Her fingers ran along a few shelves of the bookcases lining the walls of this room, looking for the right spot.

“Actually, I was thinking something else…” The book went neatly back into its proper place, she faced me again, the hint of a blush on her cheeks, “Maybe you could teach me how to play chess…”

“Chess?” I said, a brow raised in surprise. This was a new request from her. Never once has she so much as looked in the direction of a chess set before now, I was sure of it. But she nodded and sucked in her lips whilst she waited for my response. “Since when do you want to play chess?” I asked, intrigued as to where on this Moon graced land she’d come up with the idea.

“Well… Mayli knows how to play, and I was kind of hoping you’d teach me,” she said, suddenly finding her fingers particularly interesting as she wrung out her hands.

A lie–an outright lie written all over her face. Where this idea came from, I had absolutely no idea. As lovely as Mayli was—and she really was a sweet girl—she wasn’t a girl who played chess. No, Mayli’s interests aligned more closely with dancing and pretty dresses.

Now, I was by no means a chess master. But years spent growing up visiting my rather more intellectual cousin Jorah meant I had enough skill to play a decent game. It only took me a minute to run home and pick up my set, and when I returned she had pulled a low, square mahogany table over to the giant stone hearth and piled cushions on either side. She sat on hers, cross-legged, hands in her lap. Expectant if not perhaps a little jittery.

We started with the rules: which pieces could move where and when, the aim of the game, and importantly, how to win. Our first game took… a while, but she picked a few tactics up quickly—I wouldn’t expect any less from Olena Silvaris. If ever there was a girl who could do anything she set her mind to, Olena was she.

I watched her closely, paying more attention to figuring out whether this was a good time to ask about the night before than our game. “So…” I began tentatively, forcing casualness into my tone. “How was your trip last night?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and instant regret flooded my body. Making her have to think about it, perhaps relive parts of it, tightened my chest to the point of near pain. She didn’t look up from the board. “It was fine.”

Another lie.

My eyes didn’t leave her face, carefully assessing how far I could push, how much she would be comfortable sharing with me. “Was it? Your brother told me they were pretty awful...”

She sighed and put down the pawn she had been holding for a while. “Yes, they were awful, but it was fine in the end.” Her voice held a sharp edge, so unlike her. Purple eyes met green, each of our stares as intense as the others. “Did Oberon tell you what they wanted?” she asked.

My spine went stiff, I took a slow, near silent breath before I answered her with quiet trepidation. “Yeah, Lena, he told me. I’m… I’m sorry you had to go through that. I wish I—”

I wish I’d been there to protect you—it nearly slipped out, but my nearly treacherous voice caught in my throat, my body cutting off the emotions about to reveal themselves through my voice. Her eyes flitted up to meet mine, and she looked... expectant.

No. Wrong. Shaking the thought from my head, I cleared my throat and tried again, “I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.”

“Me too. All of us. As much as I’d like to, I won’t forget last night in a hurry. But nothing came of it in the end.” Venom mixed with a touch of pride seeped into her voice as she continued, “Papa and Oberon protected us, and that foul, fat slob Diablo Rubris didn’t get what he wanted. The opposite, in fact.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth, and our eyes didn’t leave the others. “Good. Let the inbred bastards keep to each other. I’m just glad you’re home safe—with the pack.”

Finally, a softer, girlish smile warmed Olena’s features. Moon Mother above, that face, radiant like moonlight incarnate could melt the iciest of hearts. Needing a reprieve from the tension I myself had built; I slapped my hands down on my knees. “Right then, let’s have a proper game; find out if you’re any better at chess than fighting.” I winked playfully.

“Ha! You don’t stand a chance.” Her sly smirk returned as she picked up the same sacrificial pawn as before. Seeing that look on her face, the feeling it gave me, I had no other choice than to let her win this one.