31
Eric
I burst into my father’s office, shadows trailing after my human form. My rage controlled my body, and the double doors leading into his office nearly split off the hinges.
His glasses fell off his nose as he shot up from his desk. “Eric?”
“What have you been keeping from me?” I shouted, slamming my hands on his desk.
He straightened, whisking his hand through the air. The air condensed with a silence spell. “Keep the ruckus down; Mindy could hear you.”
“I don’t goddamn care about Mindy.” The dangling ceiling lights swung against my raising aura. “Since when has there been a third descendant?”
My father’s knees gave out, and he collapsed in his chair. His face paled, and he hunched over as if he were about to vomit. “Who told you?” he whispered.
My gut churned. So it was true; she wasn’t Darthon.
“I found out myself,” I said, curling my fingers into a fist. My heated fingers, like sparks of fire, pressed against my palm. “I met her.”
He lifted his face, his brown eyes blank. “Eric, you must understand—”
“Understand what?” I spat. “That you lied to me? That the elders lied to everybody?” Even I’d been told there were two descendants, not three, at the Naming.
“I was protecting you,” he said. “They were protecting you.”
“From what?” I asked, waving my hands out. “She isn’t dangerous, even if she’s more powerful than I am. If anything, she’s teaching me more than Urte. She’s protecting me.”
My father jumped up. “She knows about our world?” he asked, and my brow scrunched.
“I taught her.”
My father’s shoulders rose, and his brown hair spiked black. “What have you done?” he asked, his transforming eyes glaring into mine. The blue color burned, and he slammed his palm on the table. A shadow opened up on his carpet, and the elders sprung through as if waiting for the unlikely moment.
“What’s wrong?” Luthicer asked, grasping at the air. Urte and Eu blinked, stretching out, and I knew what’d happened. My father had forced their transportation.
“The third descendant knows,” my father said, and Luthicer’s dark eyes flashed white.
“What?” His bellow echoed. “Since when?”
“How is that possible?” Urte asked, clutching his bristled chin like a safety blanket. “She left Hayworth years ago.”
“Well, she’s back,” my father said, and I stepped between the ranting men.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
My father raised his hand to my face, keeping his focus on the elders. “Collect a force. Find her, and bring her back here,” he said. “And don’t come back until you have her with you.”
“Yes, sir,” Eu said, disappearing with Luthicer by his side.
I grasped for their air, but they were gone. “Wait, what?”
My father ignored me again, but Urte met my eyes.
“What are they doing?” I asked. “If they touch her—”
Urte’s hand shot up and touched my face, and I fell to the ground, completely paralyzed. He’d used the power I’d used only minutes before. I couldn’t move, and my heart clenched against my ribs.
“You need to calm down, Eric,” Urte said, kneeling in front of me. His green eyes were slits. “Calm down, and we’ll explain.” He turned his face to look at my father. “Bracke, you need to show him the rest of the prophecy.”
“That’s against our code—”
“It could also save our lives,” Urte said, and blood began coursing through my veins. He’d barely touched me, but the paralysis aftermath twisted my mind.
I blinked, grabbing my temples. I preferred nausea. “The rest of the prophecy?” I croaked, attempting to stand.
My father moved across the room and grabbed my arm. “Relax,” he said, closing his eyes. “I have to take you somewhere.” And we disappeared in a cloud of smoke.