Page 3 of Embers of Fate
And with that, he terminates the call abruptly. No forewarning, no chance to negotiate terms or logistics. Just an imperial command expecting unquestioning obedience. I lower the phone, stare at the blank screen. The spark of anger flares, then surges into an open flame.
Damn him! Why does Bram always treat me like an afterthought? A pawn to be shuffled around his board on a whim? He’s my own brother, for gods’ sake! But apparently, our blood means nothing to him.
Fury surges through me, molten in my veins. My chest heaves as breathing quickens, heart hammering against my ribs. My jaw sets with such force that I let out a growl from the back of my throat. Some primal instinct takes over, my fingers clenching around the phone in a white-knuckled grip.
There’s a loud crack, sharp plastic biting into my palm. I stare down at the crushed device, mangled beyond repair. Slowly, I uncurl my fingers, stunned. I did this? With what hidden strength? I’m definitely not on steroids or any performance enhancers.
I step back, phone shards littering the carpet like glittering confetti. “What the hell?” I mutter, shaken. First the bombshell call, now this unexplained force rising from deep within me.
I don’t have time to dwell on it. I know Bram will expect compliance, no matter how I might wish to resist his control. For now, I have no choice but to play the obedient brother once more.
As I examine the ruined device, a notification pops up on the broken screen. “Oh, come on! Seriously?” I squint, trying to make out the words through the shattered glass.Dammit, now I have to get a new phone.
My wristwatch lights up with an alert—the promised travel details. I read the flight information and let out a string of curses. I have barely enough time to shove some clothes in a suitcase before the car arrives to convey me to this new prison.
I slam the useless phone on the counter and rush to my bedroom, adrenaline pumping through me. One thought ricochets through my mind as I pack hurriedly—perhaps in Paris I can finally regain some small freedom for myself outside Bram’s suffocating web. It’s a slim hope, but right now, it’s all I have to cling to.
3
NIK
Paris, France.
Home. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?
I sneer at the massive estate before me, feeling like an unwelcome intruder in a museum of my past. Memories of my childhood and parents should come flooding back, but there’s only a blank void. The driver dumps my suitcase unceremoniously at the entrance as a suited man stands waiting. My heart races with nerves and anticipation—I haven’t seen my brother in over ten years. As I step through the threshold, the man with salt and pepper hair gestures for me to follow, his eyes betraying a hint of curiosity about this long-lost prodigal son.
I yank off my leather jacket the instant I step through the doors. The house is like an inferno, but I welcome the heat after traveling in the chilly night air. A roaring fire crackles at the end of the spacious hall, drawing me in with its flickering tongues. Fire has always calmed my restless soul, and now, on the brink of seeing Bram, it soothes me even more.
“The esteemed M. Draken will see you tomorrow,” a man announces in a formal tone.
“Sean will escort you to your room,” another adds, gesturing towards a grand staircase.
I tear my gaze away from the hypnotic flames dancing in the massive stone fireplace. “Tomorrow?” I repeat, my voice echoing off the ornate gilded walls. “I was expecting to see my brother tonight.”
“M. Draken is currently out at the countryside estate,” the man replies tonelessly. “He will return tomorrow for you to meet with him.”
My teeth grind together in frustration. Am I to be treated like a child, another pawn in Bram’s game? No way in hell. The moment I get settled here, I’ll be finding my own place. And I refuse to be cooped up in this mansion, waiting for Bram to grace us with his presence whenever he feels like it.
“I need a car,” I state, straightening to my full height. “You’re his personal assistant, correct?” The man nods. “Have a car out front in twenty minutes.”
Before he can respond, I turn on my heel and ascend the grand curving staircase, polished oak banisters smooth under my trailing fingertips. Behind me, I hear the man stammering assurances to my brooding back.
I pivot sharply, fixing my brother’s assistant with a stern gaze. “And one more thing,” I declare, my tone brooking no argument, “I’ll need a mobile phone as well.”
The assistant nods hastily, clasping his hands in submission. “Consider it taken care of, sir,” he replies obediently.
A wicked smirk slowly spreads across my lips. This is rather pleasant. Might as well enjoy being treated like royalty, even if it means living in my brother’s shadow.
I stumble into the plushly appointed bedroom, the world spinning with a now familiar dizzy fury. Curse these headaches that seem timed to strike each night. I clutch at my throbbing temples, envisioning my pain melting away through sheer willpower.
Sean, the ever-attentive butler Bram has assigned me, lingers in the doorway looking concerned. “Everything alright, sir?” His genteel voice sounds muffled through the pounding agony in my skull.
I fumble for the pill bottle, my saving grace. “I’m fine,” I mutter before placing a bitter tablet under my tongue. Aspirin is useless against these attacks. Only the strongest pills make a dent in this relentless pain. Still, I despise relying on meds to numb my senses.
“Anything you need, sir?” Sean asks dutifully.
I make an effort to adopt a haughty tone despite the hammering inside my head. “That will be all.”
