Page 13 of Heir of Broken Souls

Lenox’s eyes burn as cold as ice as he slowly turns his head in the direction of the seething Fae-witch. “No, Harlow, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Harlow explodes, the brown in her eyes swallowed by a blazing red fury. Another one of our daily rituals. The further Lenox retreats inside himself, the angrier Harlow becomes. No doubt wanting her best friend back and doing anything to get a rise out of him. It never works.

“Harlow, go fetch Edgar and make sure Nolan received my message.” It’s a request, not a demand, and Harlow can hear it in his unwavering voice.

Not a moment later, she struts out of the study, fiery smoke billowing in her wake as she slams the doors behind her. Taking her vacated seat, I’m not surprised to find the leather boiling to the touch. Lenox doesn’t so much as blink through the whole interaction.

The old Lenox would have held his new title with honor and pride, would have gloated to all who would listen that he was now Knox’s second-in-command, promoted from third. But when Knox gave him the position he simply bowed and excused himself from the room. In Lenox’s defense, the only reason he received the title was because Axel didn’t show up and was inebriated beyond belief when he deigned to arrive. I wouldn’t be grateful to accept the title either, not at the cost of Ace’s death.

The study doors spring open, making me jump in my seat. Nolan suddenly fills the doorway, heaving, the blond warrior covered in sweat and mud and blood. I quickly turn away from the harried sight, the one that’s always so daunting to see. It’s a reminder of the thousands of warriors and innocents we continue to lose.

“You sent for me?” Nolan asks, gulping down air.

“Gods, Nolan, fetch some water and catch your breath, it wasn’t that urgent,” Knox says with a slight frown.

Clicking my tongue, I counter, “Peter’s whereabouts are.”

That snaps all the eyes in the room to me.

Behind Nolan, Harlow kicks the doors shut with her booted foot, then slides into the chair adjacent to me. “Go on then, speak.”

“I’m not a pet to command, Harlow, and Knox is just as capable of filling you in.”

“I can’t command my king.”

Knox squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Harlow,” he reprimands.

“Did you find information?” Nolan asks, keeping us on track of what matters.

“Yes,” Knox says wearily. “From a hound.”

The room groans. Lenox remains quiet.

“You know they aren’t reliable. What lies did this one spew?” Harlow asks.

“It was while Delilah was coming to consciousness. She overheard the hounds’ conversation.”

Harlow deadpans, “Was she hallucinating?”

Knox gives her a stern look. “No, she wasn’t hallucinating. They mentioned he’s at the in-between to mentally torture Delilah further.”

Harlow slides those cunning eyes to mine, looking me over as if waiting for me to start crying and screaming.

“That’s near the front lines,” Nolan counters, his muddy brows dipping low as he frowns. “Would he be foolish enough to remain that close to the action along the border?”

“It’s a ploy,” Harlow says, waving her hands in my direction with a grimace. “Surely the hounds knew she was rousing.”

“Tactic or not, we should strike,” Knox drawls, leaning back in his chair.

Nolan cocks his head, a thousand thoughts swirling in his hazel eyes, the warrior within him taking over. “You think it’ll lure him out of his true location.”

Knox dips his head. “I’m betting on it. He isn’t luring us away for no reason. He has something planned, and I want to be ready for it—onmytime schedule.”

Nolan rubs his dirty hand over the stubble on his chin. “How many men would you need in the city?”

Harlow uncrosses her legs, leaning forward with a gasp. “He’s planning to attack Azalea?”

“No, he’s planning to conquer it.”