Page 78 of Lethal Souls
I hate to do it, especially after the shit that happened with The Council, but I leave Willow at Blackwater Manor.
I don’t go without waking Maeve and Juniper so they can keep an eye on her. I even whistled for Cerberus and Silvera so they can keep guard and ordered them to stay vigilant.
I don’t know if my aunt, cousin, and the wolves will be enough to stand against any evil Selah tosses our way, but it’s better to know someone is with her.
Killian and Rowan left hours ago to get in touch with our blacksmiths and gunsmiths. They’ve reported that the work has already started. I can tell by the smoke billowing in the village, rising to the sky in thick black clouds, that weapon making is in motion.
It’s much too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, yet the village hums with life. Horse carriages roll along the dirt roads, and men shout and yell as hammers slam onto metal. Sparks of heated metal launch my way as I pass the stands, but I don’t stop until I’ve made it to Blackwater Tavern.
Once inside, I take a look around at the stragglers, their faces planted on the tables, cards and rubies clutched in their hands. Bunch of fucking drunks.
Rowan stands behind the counter with Simpson, chugging a goblet of beer.
“Oi, it’s the monarch,” Rowan announces.
I look from him and Simpson to the rest of the people. “All of you need to wake up and get the fuck out. Now!” I order.
A few sleepers startle and spring their heads up. Those who are awake are completely disoriented and frown at the outburst.
“You heard the monarch!” Rowan barks from behind the bar. “Get your drunk, sloppy asses out of here!”
The people groan and gripe as they stumble out of the tavern. When it’s cleared, Rowan walks around the bar with a whiskey and offers it to me.
“No time for drinks. Where’s Killian?”
“Last I saw, he was workin’ with one of the blacksmiths. Some of them are crushing rubies into the blades. They swear it’ll make them sharper.” Rowan looks me up and down. “You look like shit, brother. What’s going on?”
“Willow had a nightmare. I’m worried they’re the same as Warren’s.”
Rowan’s face stiffens as he looks me over. “How do you mean?”
“About Selah. She’s gotten to her head somehow, and I refuse to let her taint my mate. She’ll end up like her brother, and that’s exactly what that evil bitch wants.”
“No.” Rowan claps my shoulder, his touch searing through my clothes. “What she wants is for you to panic. You heard what Hassha said. So long as we stay in Blackwater, we’re safe. She can’t harm us here. At least, not physically. Right?”
“Yes, but mentally is a different beast entirely. Willow was in Council Castle with her. She was close to her—close enough for Selah to touch her, read her, and discover all her fears.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She’s safe now, but if that protection wanes in any way at all, she’ll strike.”
“Well, if that’s the case and you’re unsure, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the manor with her?” he asks before chugging the whiskey he offered me.
“I’m here because it’s where I hide my quish.”
A frown seizes him. “I beg your fucking pardon?”
I ignore him and march to my office. He’s right on my tail, watching as I sit behind my desk and take out a set of keys from my coat pocket. I unlock the bottom drawer of the desk then press a silver button inside to access the hidden compartment.
“Caz, are you fucking mad? Quish? Do you want to die?” Rowan remains standing on the other side of my desk, his eyes wider.
“According to The Regals, I can’t die. At least not from simple shit like this anyway.” I pull out a silk gold bag and raise it in the air.
Rowan grips the edge of the desk with a deep frown. “You will lose every brain cell in your head if you take that,” he snaps, pointing a stern finger at the bag. “No, brother. I can’t let you do it. I’ve seen too many people use that shit and they never turn out the same after. I don’t give a damn about the benefits they claim it has. This territory needs its monarch.”
“If I’m to tap into these so-called powers Yuri appointed to me, I need to clear my head. It’s my anger and my fear that is likely suppressing it, but quish can ease it—control it. It’ll lower all my defenses, my guards.”
“Or it’ll throw off your mind and senses so much that you intentionally feed yourself to the wolves, you idiot.” Rowan’s jaw ticks as he gives his head a shake. “The last guy I know who did quish was a Vanorian, and he ended up stabbing out his own heart because he wanted to give it to his lady. That shit will drive you mad, Caz.”
“But it also makes you see things you couldn’t see before. It helps you explore the deeper meanings, and for all I know, I’ll be able to hear Yuri’s voice. Get him to show me the fucking ropes already so I can end that wicked bitch.” I dump the quish into my palm—small, lumpy blocks that remind me of coal. “I’m at a loss here, Rowan. I know it’s a risk, but I’m out of ideas. The Mythics can’t even help me with this. They don’t know shit about being a Regal.”
“Just let Hassha and Korah help you then. They said they’d come back, Caz. You’re a fool if you think I’ll stand here and let you take that.”