Page 27 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

The prince was not a hardened warrior, and killing for sport was not something that was up his alley. He had an amazing ability to kill with a mere thought, but he needed to test it, and for that,he needed victims who deserved killing without a shadow of a doubt.

The talent was enviable and useful, and Max found it odd that it had been bestowed on someone as squeamish about killing as the prince. And yet, the Fates' guiding hand and the many blessings they had showered upon the clan over the past few years were hard to deny, so the prince might still have an important role to play in the grand tapestry of the clan's destiny.

The sound of four sets of footsteps in the corridor announced the arrival of Kian, Ell-rom, Anandur, and Brundar.

As Max rose to his feet to greet them, Kian entered with Ell-rom at his side and the brothers behind them.

"Good afternoon," Max said. "The coffee is freshly brewed, and Okidu left some refreshments."

"Maybe later." Kian turned to the prince. "This is Max, the other Guardian who's going to accompany you and Jasmine to her father's cabin tomorrow."

Max extended his hand. "It's my pleasure, Your Majesty."

The prince grimaced. "Please, call me Ell-rom." He shook Max's hand firmly.

"Very well. It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Ell-rom."

The prince's expression didn't change. He still looked like there was something sour in his mouth. Jasmine must have told her mate about her displeasure at meeting Max on the cruise, and he couldn't really blame her. His behavior had been inexcusable.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Kian said. "I need to speak with Onegus." He gestured to Anandur and Brundar, who followed him out of the office.

Great. Now, he was stuck with the guy who could kill with a thought and who had no reason to be nice to him.

The silence that fell was deafening.

Ell-rom stood near the door, his discomfort evident in every line of his body, and Max had a feeling that it was not just about the prince's animosity toward him. The guy was about to do something that would have been difficult for most anyone, let alone a civilian who'd been raised to be a cleric.

"If you have any questions for me, now is probably a good time," Max offered, expecting questions about his history with Jasmine and preparing to apologize and explain.

"Tell me a little about yourself." The prince's request surprised him. "Who are you when you're not being a Guardian?"

Max blinked. "I..." He moved to the coffee service Okidu had left, more to give his hands something to do than from real thirst. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please."

As Max poured two cups, he gathered his thoughts. "Right now, I don't have much of a life outside the force, but it wasn't always like that. I've done a lot of things during my five hundred and twenty-three years of life, but my first job was on the force. I joined a little over five hundred years ago and served for seventy-two years before retiring."

Ell-rom accepted the coffee. "What did you do after you retired?"

Max smiled. "Believe it or not, I was a stage actor for a while. I even joined the opera, but I never got any leading roles, so I moved on."

"An actor and an opera singer?" Ell-rom's cool demeanor cracked slightly. "That's unexpected. It would seem that you have more in common with my Jasmine than either of you realize."

"I know. I heard her singing at the wedding and then at Rob's induction ceremony. She's amazing."

Ell-rom beamed with pride. "She's extraordinary." He took a sip from his coffee. "What did you do after you gave up on acting and singing?"

"I built homes. For most of my life, I was a stonemason." Max pulled out a chair for Ell-rom and one for himself. "There's something deeply satisfying about building things, creating something permanent and beautiful that brings utility and joy to others." He paused, cradling the paper cup between his palms. "Sometimes, I miss it. The simplicity, the camaraderie with other builders, the satisfaction of creating something that lasts. It's very different from what we do now."

"Rescuing trafficking victims?"

Max nodded. "That's more fulfilling in many ways, but it's very taxing mentally. The things we see, the evil we encounter—it rubs off on you after a while." He studied Ell-rom's face. "I've lived for a long time and seen a lot of crap. But it's all new to you. You are still soft."

Ell-rom seemed taken aback by Max's straight talk, probably not expecting a lowly Guardian to talk to him so plainly. "I guess I am. Were you ever soft? Or were you born tough?"

Max laughed. "We are all born soft, or at least most of us are. Time and experiences harden us, hone us. Warriors are like swords. They start soft and malleable, but with repeated strikes of the hammer, we become sharp and deadly."

Ell-rom nodded. "I like the analogy. I can think of a sword as something beautiful, not just as an instrument of death."

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