Shadows of Discovery by Brenda K. Davies
Chapter One
Cole leftbloody footprints behind as he stalked up the palace steps toward the open doorway. He stopped walking when an approaching shadow grew larger and spread out from the doorway a second before Brokk skidded to a stop in the entrance. His aqua blue eyes widened when he spotted Cole.
“Cole? Holy shit! What happened to you?”
Then his gaze went past Cole; his eyes roamed over the pathway leading to the gate and fence surrounding the dark fae palace. Cole knew his brother was searching for their father, but he wouldn’t find him.
When Brokk’s eyes returned to him, sadness filled them as they ran over the blood covering Cole’s naked body. The stench of blood filled Cole’s nostrils, and though it was the normal, coppery scent, it smelled putrid to him.
He wore the blood of their father mixed with that of a dragon’s.
“What happened?” Brokk croaked out the words. “Where’s… where’s Father?”
Then his gaze went past Cole again, and his jaw dropped. Cole didn’t have to look to know his brother had finally spotted the body of their ex-helot, Sindri, and the dragon head Cole staked to the fence.
“Is that a dragon head? And Sindri?” Brokk’s eyes shot back to Cole. “What the fuck happened?”
“The Lord ordered a dragon to kill Father.”
Brokk blinked at him, and his attention returned to the bloody remains on the fence. “Why?”
“Because he didn’t think he would do enough to hunt Orin and Varo. He thinks I will do more. He intends for me to rule after I survive the trials.”
Cole did not say if he survived the trials. He didn’t care that numerous dark fae had tried and failed to make it through the trials. He. Would. Not. Fail. He would become the king of the dark fae and destroy the Lord of the Shadow Realms if it was the last thing he did.
Brokk didn’t speak as he stared unblinkingly at the fence. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he didn’t shed them.
Cole knew Brokk’s tears would come with time; so would his, but right now, the horror of what happened to their father was still too fresh in his mind. And though there was grief, there was also a white-hot fury that burned away the sorrow and left ashes in its wake.
“Where did the dragon head come from?” Brokk asked.
“I destroyed the dragon that killed Father. I took its head to warn away all those who will try to stand in my way of claiming the throne.”
If his brother’s eyes got any bigger, they would pop out of his head. “You killed a dragon by yourself?”
“Yes.”
“How did you manage that?”
Cole could only think of one answer for how he succeeded in destroying the powerful creature. “Rage.”
“And you killed Sindri because…?”
“He was happy to see me wearing Father’s blood.”
“Killing him makes sense then.”
As Cole finished climbing the stairs, Brokk stepped back to let him enter the palace.
“Where are you going?” Brokk demanded when Cole brushed past him.
“To see Lexi.”
“Who?” And then Brokk’s mind started working again as he blurted, “Del’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to see her now?”
“Yes.”
“There are a thousand things we will have to take care of and do; why would you go see her now?”
“Because I have to.”
The door shut behind him, and then the padding sound of Brokk’s soft boots sounded against the stone as he hurried after him. Cole didn’t look back at his brother while he navigated the palace halls toward his rooms.
He’d spent his entire life within these walls, and during that time, he’d passed these doors thousands of times. He’d learned which doors would never open to him, and he’d accepted that he would never satisfy his curiosity about those rooms. They belonged to someone else and would not open to anyone but their owners, even if those owners were dead.
Will the palace seal off my father’s rooms now too? Is that how it works?
A pang of sadness broke through his rage; it pierced his heart, but he swiftly buried it. This was not the time or place for it; he had far too much to do. First things first, he would see Lexi, then meet with the dark fae council and arrange to start the trials.
When he finished the trials, they would plan his father’s memorial. He would prefer to do it before the trials, but the longer the Gloaming went without a king, the more likely turmoil and uprisings would begin to unfold. And the authority of the throne would help him crush any rebellions before they took root.
Once he claimed the throne, he would use his power to help him sink his claws into the Lord and rip him to pieces. He would celebrate when that fucker’s blood covered him.