Page 84 of The Bones of the Cursed

I smile warmly at him. “What was he like growing up?”

The king laughs. “He loved to play pranks on his little sister. Ayda would always have dolls laying around, so Malakai would ‘dollnap’ them—his words, not mine—and hold them for ransom. He made his poor sister pay him in food, favors, or money to get them back. Of course the money always came from me.” The king gives a roguish smile.

“I would hazard a guess that he might get his wild side from a certain Fae King.”

He places a hand on his chest as if offended. “Why, I’m not sure what you’re implying. I am king, I wouldneverhave a wild side.”

I laugh at his over-the-top expression.

“As a teen,” he continues, sobering, “he was quite a handful. Running off, sneaking out. Getting tattoos. The older he got, he jumped from woman to woman.” The king winces, as if just now realizing who he’s talking to. “I apologize.”

I gently touch his hand. “It’s fine. I obviously know he has a past. We both do, and I would never hold it against him.”

He grasps my hand. “You are good for him. You center him in a way I have never seen anyone do. I was so frightened of what would become of him if he lost you. I just wanted you to know that I have reached out to the matriarch. Mal believes she is the only way to get the answers you seek.”

Tears burn in my eyes. “I truly appreciate that.” I take a deep breath before uttering my next words. “Your Majesty…we found your sister on the Isle. She had been held captive for quite some time. I’m so sorry that there was nothing we could do for her. She seems to have been dead for about a year now.”

The king looks down, shock and sadness seeping from his every pore. “She has been missing for quite a while. I thought she had died ages ago. I won’t deny it’s tough knowing I could have saved her if I’d just looked harder or longer. It took me too long to put the pieces together, to know where the majority ofthe realm’s problems were stemming from.” He pats my hand, standing to leave. “You should know that I’m offering help for you as well, not just my son. You are good for him, and I can tell you care for each other a great deal, but I must say I am also quite fond of you. There are a few people around the city that sing your praises, especially Maryanna. I think you would make a wonderful queen someday.”

My mouth drops open as the king shuts the door softly behind him. Me, a queen? How the hell could I ever rule a realm?

The door opens and Malakai enters with Elion, Kailu, and Hannah close behind. The little black book he carries catches my attention, sending the king’s words from my mind. My eyes snap to Elion’s.

“How the hell…?” I trail off, at a loss for words.

Elion shakes his head. “I have no idea. The Banshee brought it to us.”

Confusion and intrigue war in my head. How did the Banshee come to possess my mother’s journal? How is the journal even still intact when it should be a pile of ash?

Malakai’s grim face drags my wandering thoughts. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

He opens the book to a marked page. “I figured out why your powers are or were blocked.”

I smile at him. “That’s a good thing, right?” My smile fades slowly when I notice anger flare in his eyes. “Tell me,” I plead quietly.

Mal walks towards me, gently kissing my head before taking a seat on the bed beside me. Then he starts to read my mother’s words, sending a jolt to my heart at how much I miss her and my father.

It happened again. Alanis got angry, and another pulse of her power unleashed. At first we had noexplanation for the weird happenings. Never in a million years did we think it was her. Magic like hers is illegal here. Tiernan finally found information that led him to a man, who informed him that Alanis had to have witch blood if she was showing powers as strong as we said. Especially at her age. He gave my husband a book on the Shadow Vale Coven. Now we just need to figure out how to control or suppress these powers. I’m scared she will damn us all with them.

It hurts to breathe. I remember having fits, my father giving me a foul tasting medicine to help with them because they were exhausting, but not to the extent she is describing. I wrack my memory, but nothing comes to the forefront of my mind. I look at Elion and find his face is pale, his lips pursed.

“There’s more,” Malakai says in a gruff tone.

I’m not sure how much more I can handle. When we chose to bring a poor, abandoned baby into our family, I didn’t expect this. This world cannot handle her powers. They will hang us all if she is discovered. The man who approached Tiernan makes me nervous. He won’t share his name, but he says he has something that can control her powers, a potion that covens in other realms have used on witches and wizards who have gone too far, who have amassed too much power. He says it shouldn’t take much. Let her drink a sip or two a day until the powers subside.

Elion refuses to meet my eyes. “You knew?” I breathe. I thought the medicine I took was a secret between only me and my father.

He grits his teeth. “Not exactly. I knew they were giving you something to help with your extreme emotions. I also know that they were acting weird.”

Malakai ignores us both, flipping through pages. His jaw tenses. This must be the part that really gets to him.

The potion has worked, but Alanis is not the same girl she was before. She’s more subdued, and even seems depressed at times. I’ve been so worried her powers will slip through since she’s stopped taking the potion, so I have been secretly slipping it into her dinner every night. Tiernan doesn’t know. He was against the idea when I first brought it up. The unnamed man warned him against taking it when not necessary, but I feel it is. I have Elion to think about. I must protect him and everyone else.

At this point, I regret ever saving her. She might be the end to us all if the sentries ever discover what hides within her.

Tears drip from my eyes. My mother was scared of me. My mother regretted taking me in. She didn’t love me.

I breathe deep, sadness warring with disappointment creating a potent cocktail of heartbreak. The feeling is familiar. The emotions grow so intense that they become a living thing inside me, writhing and clawing at my mind to get out.

---