“I took down a phoenix, Kingsley, and I’ve only grown in power and experience since. This isn’t something you can do over, and there is not one person in this room who can save you from me. I just locked that man outside. Your move. Get rid of that dickhead Bruce or battle me in front of your people and then watch while I get rid of him for you. I do not compromise when it comes to the wellbeing of my people. Choose. Now. ”
Austin wiggled the handle outside, pushing at the door. Understanding came through the bonds, followed by frustration. He banged on it now, calling my name.
I cut the outside sound from the bubble. My magic throbbed within it, and I stared Kingsley down and then took a step forward, knowing that would antagonize him. Knowing he was weighing the situation before engaging.
I was nothing but fire and readiness, confidence and might. He was so much taller and broader than me, thicker in every way, but size didn’t mean crap.
“We can’t hear them,” Kingsley said to me in a low voice. “Can they hear us?”
“No.”
He took a step toward me now, closing the distance slowly. “Are you going to take up my brother’s mantle and try to kill me in front of all these spectators?”
“This has nothing to do with the past, Kingsley. That clown Bruce didn’t slap Austin in the face—
he slapped a man who’s still struggling with the loss of his family and life as he knew it. A man who rehashed all that pain to help you understand. That is the reason I’m ready to attack you in front of all these spectators. But don’t worry, I’d stop short of killing you. I’d never take you away from your family over this. I just need to make a statement.”
I saw Austin in my peripheral vision, stalking along the exterior of the bubble I’d created. He must’ve broken through the magic holding the door. His mouth moved, probably calling to me. Maybe trying to talk me down. Then he looked at the air in front of him, testing it with his hands. The shock he got made him step backward, but he immediately flexed and approached it again. He’d handle the pain to get through to me if he needed to. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I put out my hand to stop him, back to focusing wholly on Kingsley.
He didn’t seem to notice Austin. He moved at an angle now, his eyes on mine, walking like he wanted to circle me, ever the big cat.
I didn’t play the game. I stood right where I was, turning a little to lazily keep him in my sights.
“Pretty soon I’m going to get bored, and then I will prod you into action,” I told him. “You have precious little time to figure out what you’re going to do.”
“You don’t think your words are prodding me enough?”
“No, because you haven’t attacked yet. Quit stalling. Come at me or don’t.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
Annoyance ate through my minimal patience. Tension started to fill my body, and my power throbbed. My beast itched at my skin.
“It needs to be, Kingsley. I shouldn’t have to prompt you to act. Have your scars from Austin’s challenge, so long ago, clouded your judgment to the point that you welcome the animosity your people are throwing at ours? At him? Your children are watching you, Kingsley. They are learning from you. Is this the sort of behavior you want to teach budding alphas?”
He stopped in place, his posture suddenly rigid. Emotions ran lightning fast over his expression.
He stared at me for a long moment, and now I turned to face him fully, my gaze no longer hot, my power starting to ebb. I didn’t say another word. I knew I didn’t have to. I’d hit him right where it counted. I’d shined a flashlight on where it hurt the most.
Tears sprang to my eyes, because I suddenly understood his pain. The hurt caused by his brother nearly killing him. His regret that his daughter had had to bear witness. The embarrassment, probably, of her having to rescue him. His scars from that time weren’t buried as deeply as he tried to pretend.
The proof was there in his tight shoulders and tormented gaze. He wasn’t like Austin, who raged and fought and wore his heart on his sleeve if you looked hard enough. He was more like his mother, suffering in silence.
They needed to heal. They both did. Together.
Taking the high road, I stepped forward and put out my arm at a ninety-degree angle, almost like I was asking for a high five but with my hand turned. A handshake shifters tended to use to show unity.
A peace offering, in this case.
He didn’t hesitate. He met my step with one of his own and clapped his hand against mine, stinging my palm, our forearms meeting （mine looking like a child’s compared to his）， our gazes locked.