Black Moon

“My question first,” he countered. “Is that what you think of me? That I’d hurt you or our child, or that I’d allow anyone else to hurt you?”

“I wish I could say no,” she whispered, agonized. “But it’s impossible to be sure when you’re consorting with the enemy.”

Hurt flashed in his expression and his jaw ticced. “I had to ask him whether it was true that I’m his son.”

“I think it’s sad that you would look to him for the truth about anything.”

“He is telling the truth, at least about this. I have a father and a half brother. I have family.”

“Sariel might be your brother, but that thing is not and never will be any kind of a father,” she said, her voice rising. “A real father wouldn’t have left you starving on the streets while he watched and refused to lift a finger to help you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he rasped. “You have a great dad who loves you more than anything and I’ll never experience that for myself. Don’t you understand how much that hurts? How hard it is to resist any kindness that comes out of his lying mouth?”

“I do—”

“No. You don’t. He wants me to—” Swaying, Kalen grabbed his head and hissed in pain. Mac stood and would’ve gone to him, but he waved her off with a laugh that sounded slightly crazed. “Don’t touch me!”

“Kalen—”

“Don’t dirty your hands with the likes of me,” he snarled, eyes wild. “Oh, wait—too late for that. Too bad you’re stuck with Malik’s son for a mate.”

Fear gripped her heart. He was losing his struggle with his dark half—if he hadn’t lost already. “Please, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

“Never mind. The truth is, you’re right. You should be afraid of me. In fact, you need to stay as far from me as you can get.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it for you.” His green eyes were blank marbles as he held her gaze for a long moment, then turned and slammed out.

Melina looked shaken. “My God. His eyes . . . That wasn’t Kalen.”

I won’t cry. It’s not over.

“How are we going to help him?” she asked Melina. “Do you think we could try dosing him with the new sedative we’ve been using on Micah? It’s helped him, so why not Kalen?”

“Because we’re fighting dark magic here, my friend. I think being sedated will only lower his defenses all the way, leaving him completely vulnerable to the Unseelie’s influence.” Melina shook her head. “At this point, Kalen is the one who’s going to have to save himself.”

Mac was terribly afraid her friend was right.

* * *

Mac thought he was capable of harming her. Possibly their child.

Nothing could have broken his heart more effectively than hearing that from his mate’s lips—except knowing it was entirely possible she was right.

Weary, Kalen paused at the end of the hallway and fought the urge to see Sariel. On the way back to the compound, he’d taken his time. Had fought hard to regain some control over his dark half, and the closer he came to Mackenzie, the more his mind cleared. But not all the way. The need to kill was agonizing. But he had to see the prince, or else he’d be driven out of his mind not knowing if he could resist the compulsion to follow through on Malik’s orders.

Outside Sariel’s room he knocked and then went on inside. Sariel was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting pants and a shirt that was slit on the back to accommodate his wings.

“Hello, Sorcerer. I’m getting out of here today, or I’m supposed to,” the faery told him with a smile.

“Good for you.” The flat tone of his voice was unintentional, but it quickly told the prince that something was off.

“What’s wrong?” The Fae’s brow furrowed.

“I’m supposed to kill you. You get that, right?”

To his surprise, the prince gave a soft laugh. “Am I supposed to be shocked? Afraid? Let me remind you of something, fledgling. I’m more than eleven thousand years old. Can you wrap your brain around that number? Do you actually believe in all that time nobody has ever wanted me dead? I’m a prince of my kind, Kalen. Besides my sire, enemies abound. Been there, done that, got the merit badge in survival, as humans say.”

“You’re being awfully flip about this.”

“Not at all. Simply realistic.” Sariel stood, his height equal to Kalen’s. He didn’t appear to be the least bit alarmed by any threat the Sorcerer might pose. “You could certainly try to harm me and, like the witch, you might succeed if you catch me off guard, not to mention that I’m healing and my system hasn’t yet adjusted well to being in this realm. But make no mistake—even with all these disadvantages, I possess power beyond your wildest imagination.”

He delivered this statement with such confidence, it gave Kalen pause. “You’re saying Malik sent me on a suicide mission, then?”

The prince looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. Does he have reason to believe your abilities are equal to mine —other than being Fae yourself?”

Here came the hard part. He took a deep breath. “Because Malik claims to be my father—and he says you’re my half brother. Can you wrap your brain around that?”

Sariel’s mouth fell open. “Great gods.” He stared at Kalen for a few moments before he nodded. “My brother? That would make perfect sense, that sick old asshole.”

“Do you think it’s true? Are we brothers?”

“Considering everything you told me before, I’d say it’s highly likely. You do realize that I have several other brothers and that would mean you do as well. If it’s true, you just gained quite a large family.”

“Any way we can ever know for sure?”

“Not if you kill me,” Sariel said pointedly. “As if you could.”

“If we’re related by blood, I’m more than capable.”

“And you want to.” Sariel observed him with a critical eye. “You’re practically vibrating with tension, and your pupils are dilated. Your panther is close to the surface. I can sense that he’s dying to rip out my throat and feast on my carcass.”

“So badly I can’t stand it,” he admitted hoarsely. His panther growled in agreement. “And yet the real me doesn’t want that at all. I want to get to know the brothers I’ve always longed for, and fighting the dark half is tearing me apart.”

Kill the prince.

Kalen flinched at the order. “He wants me to do it. Help me.”

Sariel moved close, laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re strong. And we must be related if you can resist Malik’s influence this way for any length of time. Hold on just a while longer. I have a feeling the end of this is near.”

“Yeah, but who comes out on top?”

A smile kicked up one corner of the prince’s mouth. “Why, the baddest two Fae on earth, of course. And when the day comes to prove it, I’ll fight by your side.”

Kill him now, boy.

“That’s way more than I deserve.”

“No. You deserve more . . . brother.”

No, you fool! Kill him!

“I won’t do it,” he whispered to his unseen tormentor. “Go fuck yourself.”

Pain stabbed his head again and blood trickled from his nose. Sariel grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and handed it over. Kalen cleaned up and was about to say something more when the building’s intercom intruded into the bonding moment with his brother.

“Alpha Pack to the conference room, stat,” Nick ordered.