Alex POV
The wardstone is the colour of marble. It looks like an ordinary weathered rock, but no rock can exist for hundreds of years without turning to dust.
Runes are etched into the wardstone. My eyes make them out, but I can't decipher their meaning. The scholars say the language has been lost to us, along with the knowledge of how to make them. The seventeen wardstones in the world are the only ones in existence, and monopoly over them is fiercely guarded. My father's territory holds three, the most any single individual controls.
The gnome spits at my father's feet. Everyone freezes. Sweat breaks over my face. I study my father, expecting him to give the order for his Unbloodied to kill the creature.
When the gnome speaks, his voice is weasely, nasal, and high-pitched. "You don't look like much. I wonder why everyone's so scared of you."
My father smiles. It's like the ice in my chest thaws. No one will die today.
"Diez, I believe," my father says, voice musing. The gnome nods. He barely reaches up to my father's knee, but his face is imperious. "You would be afraid of me too if your people didn't have the compact to protect you."
The compact. The oath of non-violence that protects the gnomes, the bearers of the wardstone, the only ones capable of operating it.
Diez snorts. "Well, what's it matter to me? Come on. Let's get your sorry lot out of here."
Diez walks over to the wardstone at the center of the large clearing that forms a circumference around us. The gnome places his hand on the wardstone and starts a spell. The hair on my skin stands as the magic fills the air. Since I was a child, I've always been terrified of magic. My eyes find Ivan, but there's no comfort for me on his face. He stares at me impassively, the hilt of his sword extending over his back.
The air warps as the wardstone transports us. It's like being inside a bubble. There's a popping sound, and the air goes back to normal.
And I'm standing in my father's garden.
The wardstone here is buried deep in the grass. The runes on its surface glows softly before fading away.
The scent of home hits me. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. My father places his hand on my shoulders. I open my eyes, and there's a smile on his face. I look at the house, and the nostalgia I feel is overpowering.
Our house is modern European style. It sits in prime real estate atop a hill in the heart of Silverlight territory. Its walls are white, and our pack flags hang from every post, our sigil proud on our walls. Expensive cars dot the huge lawn. My father has always had his tastes.
"Prepare the feast," my father announces, his voice ringing with pride. "Tonight, we dine in honour of my son."
By night, the whole pack is gathered. Tables have been carried outside and placed directly under the open sky. Every inch of them is covered in plates, trays, and food. A large carcass of meat, a freshly hunted stag, sits on the center table. It's my father's table, and I'm sitting beside him in the place of honour as his heir.
Music plays. There's dancing in the grass. The celebration is in full swing.
I try to eat, but I don't have the appetite. Jacob, my little brother, sits beside me. He tries to distract me, telling me about the antics he's been up to with his twin, Laufey. I smile and listen to him, but inside, I can't feel anything.
My father's words continue to haunt me. What is he planning? How am I involved in it? More importantly, how can I keep myself from failing him?
I've always been weak. All my life, I've had Ivan to protect me. I fear … I fear that it has made me a soft man, a man without the strength of will to rule like my father. Maybe if I was like Ivan, cold, steadfast Ivan… But no. He has his fate. I have mine. I will not fail my father. Not again.
Midway through the feast, my father leaves our table, carrying his cup of wine. He gathers the family to him. I see him kiss my mother, run his fingers through Jacob's hair, places a hand on Laufey's shoulders. He announces that his son, his blood, his heir will take care of the rest of the feast. "The little ones are past their bedtime, and my wife and I intend to make the double-backed beast as celebration for the safe return of my son."
The pack laughs. Everyone knows that my father and my mother have been trying for another child. I force out a smile.
Heading the feast turns out to be much worse. With my father around, I could go unnoticed. When he leaves, every eye finds me. The pressure of their gazes nearly folds me in half. They look at me with anticipation, expectation. I busy myself with my food. Where is Ivan? I haven't seen him all night. I feel naked without him.
Trellis slides into the seat beside me. He receives a tray of food from a maid and starts eating. He doesn't say anything so I don't either. After a while, he finishes and turns to me.
"Something is afoot," he says, his voice a low whisper.
My forehead creases in a frown. "I don't understand you."
"The winds are shifting. Great changes are about."
"Speak plainly, man."
The advisor smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He looks haunted. As if he's terrified of something. "There are some, my prince, who believe your father is unfit to be alpha."
"That's absurd." I know about the infighting, but everyone loves and respects my father. He's the reason my pack is what it is today.
Trellis snakes his head. "If only that were true. No, my prince. I'm afraid it is not."
"What do they claim?" I ask, worried.
"His ambition. They … they fear it will destroy us all."
Trellis's words tear a pit in my stomach. I feel that unsettling feeling return. It's as if someone is standing behind me, about to run me through with a sword.
Trellis stands up to leave. But he freezes. Because he hears it too.
Screams.
Screams from inside the house.
I'm on my feet so quickly that I tip my chair over. I charge towards the house, my heart racing, drumming against my chest. Behind me, the calm of the feast shatters.
The first thing I smell when I enter the house is blood. Terror forms a ball in my gut. The lights have been turned off. My eyes adjust to the darkness, but it's not enough. Trellis is beside me, and he pulls out his phone and turns on the flash.
The first body I find is Jacob's. My little brother is lying on his back, his chest covered in blood. His lifeless eyes stare at the ceiling. A distance away, I find Laufey. He's in pieces. He's been cut up, butchered like an animal.
A terrible, horrible howl tears through the night. It's only later that I realize that it's mine.
Grief weighs on me like steel manacles. I want to stop and hold the bodies of my brothers, but I keep walking. I have to find my father. I need to know he's safe and that he's going to fix this, some way, somehow.
I find my mother's body at the door to their room. Her throat has been torn out. Her pearl necklace is covered in dark blood. Her eyes are closed in death. She looks almost asleep.
I walk into the room, and the sight I see will forever be engraved in my mind.
My father is kneeling, his head hanging forward. His beefy hands are bent into fists, his fingernails chipped. There are holes in his shirt, tears as wide as my palms that show his wounds. There's a large gash on the back of his neck, where the blade almost severed the spine. He's dead. My father, Byron deGeneris, the legend, the mighty alpha.
Is dead.
And standing in front of him, covered in blood of my family, his blood-stained sword in hand, is my bodyguard.
Ivan.