Page 14 of Embers of Fate
A tall figure stalks out in a fine navy suit, his shirt collar undone and face flushed. Though he stands over six feet, I still have an inch or two on him. “I willnotstand for this!” he declares hotly to the tense gathering, his bloodshot eyes ablaze with reckless fury.
Holy fuck, is that…?
“Bram?” I barely utter as recognition hits me full force. I haven’t seen him in over ten years.
What will he do at the sight of the younger brother he sent away long ago? Will seeing me rekindle some fragment of lost warmth? I brace myself, half expecting his embrace.
His fierce gaze collides with mine. “Nikolaas,” he states flatly as he strides towards me. My heart races with hope—this could be the moment when my brother and I come together and set aflame the bitter days of our past, their cruel ashes finally scattered.
Bram brushes past as if I’m not there. My frail dream crumbles. Surely, he’s forgotten I was even coming back. I hang my head in disappointment when he grabs my arm and pulls. “Walk with me,” he commands. I have no choice but to follow as he marches on.
“You’re here now,” he growls, “so you might as well know what’s truly happening.”
“Where are we going?” I ask with a frown.
We stop at the doorway and Bram pauses to face me. Under the exterior lights, I finally notice the details of his disheveled appearance—red-rimmed eyes with dilated pupils, cracked lips, a flush spreading across his cheeks despite the night’s chill. A wayward lock of golden hair falls across his eyes as he sways slightly, one hand braced against the doorframe.
Several emotions flit across his face before he speaks—uncertainty, annoyance, vague recognition. “We’re going topay avisitto an old enemy of ours, Niky.” He speaks slowly, dredging up the words. His breath leaves no doubt—it reeks of liquor.
Niky. He hasn’t used that childhood nickname since we were boys, when things were simpler between us. Hearing it now in his drunken slur feels jarringly out of place.
“An old enemy?” I echo, perplexed.
“The Alexeevs,” he growls, his stance suddenly rigid. “The Bear King has defied me for the last fucking time.”
The Ursa clan—longtime rivals of our Dragon kindred. Bram seems convinced they have somehow wronged him, but his reasons remain obscured by inebriated fury.
My brother grabs onto my jacket’s lapel and pulls me in close, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Our treacherous uncle wronged this family in almost every conceivable way. But fear not, Niky. As the new leader of our clan, I’m going to fix that—that, and so much more.” He inches closer. “And that wretched Ursa King? He will learn his place once and for all.”
He turns to the group of men surrounding us, their necks bearing the unmistakable Draken sigil—an ornate dragon rendered in stark black ink. The mythical beast’s wings flare out menacingly, razor claws extended as if to slash some unseen enemy. With a commanding gesture from Bram, they surge forward and I am swept outside along with them, unsure of what dark plans my brother has in store.
“Bram, we can’t do this,” I say in a hushed tone, my words laced with caution.
My brother scrunches his nose in irritation. “What are you rambling on about now?” he mutters, clearly annoyed.
Making sure no one from the clan is watching, I grasp my brother’s shoulder and pull him aside urgently. “Are you drunk?” I demand. “You can’t be making decisions like this when your mind is clouded. Can’t you see the potential consequences of barging into enemy territory?” My voice is barely above a hiss now.
“Oh... Shut up, Niky!” Bram retorts, jerking away from my grip and straightening his suit jacket. “You weren’t at the Deveraux’s tonight for the Samhain séance. Not only did Gavriil Alexeev insult me—he publiclyhumiliatedme!” He pauses and then adds bitterly, “And to top it off, Clarissa had the audacity to befriend our vampire enemies!”
“Clarissa?” The name comes out in a rush, tinged with desperate hope. “Is she here?”Can I finally see my baby sister after all these years of being apart?My heart races at the thought of being reunited with her, torn away from us so cruelly upon our parents’ loss. We should have stuck together during those dark days, but Bram thought it better to raise us heirs apart.More strategic,he claimed—like hell it was.
“She’s on the jet right now, flying to London.” My brother’s response comes quick and cold. “I’ll be damned if I let those bloodsuckers get their hands on her!” The venom in his voice betrays his deep-seated hatred for our eternal foes.
The blood of dragons runs hot through our veins, granting us an inferno of rage and power. Yet as I study my brother’s bleary eyes and disheveled appearance, I can’t help but wonder whether he’s hammered or hungover after last night’s festivities. Maybe it’s both. Either way, he’s not fit to face the Ursa King.
“Let me handle this,” I interject, determined to protect my family from any potential downfall. “I’ll speak with Gavriil.”
Bram’s laughter rings in the courtyard, dripping with contempt and vanity. “And what will you say, Nikolaas?” he sneers, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Last time I checked, you were neither a warlock nor a dragon shifter.”
The words sting like daggers. Especially since I stopped studying the craft at Bram’s command... I know my brother is not himself right now. So I swallow the pain and respond calmly, “Our family has not seen a dragon shifter in over three hundred years.”
But my brother only smirks. “Yet here I am,” he taunts, raising an eyebrow. “As the fucking head of this family. Never forget that.”
I stare at him in absolute dismay. Bram’s been head of the family for two fucking minutes and it’s already gone to his head. Oh, but it’s more than that—if I’m not careful, my brother might lead our clan to its untimely ruin.
9
SAM
