Anchor of Secrets by Tessa Hale
34
Energy crackled allaround me as the guys tensed, going alert in the blink of an eye.
A blank mask slid over Declan’s features as he stepped forward. I hated everything about it. It was as if he were draining himself of all kindness and empathy, of any life at all.
“And what would your reasoning be today?” Declan asked casually.
Patrick’s nostrils flared. “You dare to bring outsiders to our lands?”
Declan arched a brow. “I thought they were allies.”
Patrick gritted his teeth. “That may be the case, but they don’t belong within our walls. And that traitor doesn’t belong anywhere near here.”
Declan’s eyes melted into a molten silver, the only sign of emotion racing through him. “But he’s not a traitor, is he, Dad?”
Patrick’s spine snapped straight. “Of course, he is.”
“He told me the truth. Told me that you fucking sold him into the pits.”
The man to Patrick’s right shifted uncomfortably. My eyes narrowed on him. He knew. He’d likely stood by while his king had done it, sentenced an innocent boy to hell on Earth.
“He’s feeding you lies,” Patrick spluttered.
“Not lies when my father pulled Ronan from those pits,” Colt shot at the man.
Patrick glared at Colt. “He probably got himself mixed up with the underworld when he ran away.”
“Stop lying,” Declan gritted out.
Patrick’s eyes went the same silver as his son’s, but it was darker somehow. “You don’t speak to me that way. I am your king.”
Declan’s jaw worked back and forth. “Not for long.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Patrick snapped.
“I’m moving out. Going to live with my bond.”
Patrick struggled to keep his breathing under control. “If you leave your horde, you will be dead to me. Cut off. Cast out.”
“Not sure you can do that, lizard man,” Trace drawled lazily as he cleaned under his fingernails with a large blade.
The man to Patrick’s left practically breathed fire. “You insolent little—”
Patrick held up a hand to stop him. “You don’t know what I can and cannot do.”
Trace arched a brow. “I’ve made a practice of studying treaty bylaws—everything to do with The Assembly, actually. That’s what happens when your parents are dicks of monumental proportions. But I’d say Dec knows just how that feels.”
Patrick let out a rumbling growl that shook the ground.
“A future ruler can’t be cast out of their clan simply because they wish to live with their bond. It would make for discriminatory practices. If you try to remove Declan from the official line of succession simply because he’s choosing to live with us, you’re the one who’ll be cast out,” Trace said, his eyes going hard.
Patrick struggled for breath as his face went as red as a tomato. His eyes narrowed on me. “This is your influence. I heard rumblings of a weakling ruining my son’s bond. But this is a whole new level of low.”
A series of snarls lit the air around me, but I didn’t jump. I kept Patrick’s stare. “If you think I’m weak because I never manifested, you’re wrong. It means I’m stronger than you could ever imagine. I’ve lived through abuse and torture, and I haven’t crumbled. So, you better think twice about coming for me. Or Declan and Ronan.”
Declan shifted so that his father’s view of me was cut off. “I just need to get my things, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Patrick’s jaw hardened. “That’s where you’re wrong. I may not be able to cast you out, but your belongings were bought with my money. They’ll stay here, waiting for the moment when you return and beg for my forgiveness.”
Declan’s hands fisted, but he jerked his head in a nod. “They were tainted anyway.”
Patrick let loose another growl, but Declan turned on his heel, giving his father his back. It was the ultimate fuck you. As if his father wasn’t even worth worrying about.
But as Patrick’s eyes locked on me, I knew this wasn’t over.
* * *
I knocked softlyon the open door, stepping inside.
Declan looked up from where he was putting away clothes. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I parroted, unsure of what else to say.
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “They sure work fast around here. Clothes delivered and washed. All in a matter of hours.”
“It’s Colt’s way of caretaking. But it can be a little overwhelming.” I sank down on the bed, surveying Declan.
“It’s nice,” he said, placing another pile of T-shirts in a drawer.
“Are you okay?” It was a dumb question, but I had to ask it anyway.
“Not really.” Declan shut the drawer, crossing to me and lowering himself to the mattress.
I twisted so I was facing him and reached up to rub his temples. “Today has been a lot.”
Declan dropped his head to my shoulder. “Understatement.” He paused. “But you were a little badass. Think you might’ve made Patrick pause, which is saying something.”
“I really, really dislike that man.”
“That’s because you’re smart.”
I ran my hands through Declan’s white-blond hair, digging my fingers into his scalp. “I hate that you’ve lived your entire life with him.”
“But not anymore. We’re all making fresh starts.”
I kept massaging. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.” Declan lifted his head, his gray eyes locking with mine. “Don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my corner.”
My breath hitched. “I feel the same way.”
Declan’s hands circled my waist, and he lifted me so I was straddling him, my arms going around his shoulders. His eyes searched mine. “I love you, Leighton.”
Everything in me burned, but it was the best kind of pain. “I love you, too.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “It would’ve been really awkward if you didn’t.”
A laugh startled out of me, but Declan stole it right off my tongue as his mouth crashed into mine. His tongue drove inside, not teasing but taking.
“Dec—”
I broke the kiss, jerking back as Ronan walked in.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. The door was open. I’ll just go—”
“Wait,” Declan cut him off.
Ronan stilled, his stare locking with his brother’s.
Declan swallowed. “Stay.”