Page 180 of The Forsaken Heir
“I’m not a little kid anymore,” he said, and went to shove dad.
Our father, moving fast as a snake, slapped Bastien’s cheek.
“You’ll understand. You’ll learn, and you’ll live to regret it,” Dad hissed, shaking his fist in front of Bastien’s face. “The Laurent family is destined for greatness. If you want to be great, you need toactgreat.”
Bastien put a hand to his cheek and looked like he wanted to cry. Slowly, he nodded his head. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll be strong. I promise.”
“You better be,” Dad said, then vanished in a puff of smoke.
Bastien blinked, coming back to himself. He spun, leveling his eyes on me again.
“Where are we? What have you done?”
“This is a dream walk, little brother,” I said, holding my hands out. “I brought you here so you could face your demons.”
His lips pulled back in a snarl. “All I need to face isyou.”
Lunging at me, he swung a fist at my face, trying to smash my nose. Recalling a move Delphine had taught me, I ducked to the side and batted his hand away, giving me an open shot at his ribs. I sent my elbow crashing into his side, forcing him to fall to the ground.
When I turned, the scene had again changed. Bastien, locked into the magical display, had lost all interest in me. He stood above a bird flopping on the ground at his feet. Beside him, a seven-year-old Freddy stared down in horror.
“It’s hurt. Help it, Bast,” Freddy cried, tears shining in his eyes.
Bastien punched Freddy in the arm, making his face scrunch up in pain. “Stop being a little baby,” Bastien said, and a child’s voice came from his grown mouth. The combination of an adult man speaking with the high-pitched voice of a child was bizarre.
“Why won’t you help him, though?” Freddy asked, sniffling and holding his arm.
Bastien glared at our little brother in disgust. “You’re such a little prissy asshole. You act like a girl.” He snorted in disgust. “You’re worse than Brielle.” He pointed at the twitching bird. “The only thing you should worry about is whether or not you’re strong enough to do what needs to be done.” He lifted his foot and brought it down with thunderous force on the injured bird.
The tiny body shattered beneath his shoe. Freddy spun away and ran, sobbing as he went. Bastien shook his head, trying to clear it.
“How do you know about all this?” he screamed at me. “You weren’t there when any of this happened.”
“This isyourmind, Bastien. I’m just here observing. Watching how you became the monster you are.”
He smirked. “You know what’sreallymonstrous? You.” He spat on the ground in disgust. “Letting that filthy fucking dragon soil you with his cock. No self-respecting wolf wouldevertake a dragon to bed. It shows how weak you are, that you’d even consider being his mate. It’s why Mom and Dad chosemeto lead instead of you. You can’t even shift, for fuck’s sake.”
Something tickled at the back of my mind, similar to the strange feeling I’d experienced within the wellspring. A semblance of control filled my mind, and I did my best to use it. This was a spellI’dcreated, and that meant I could use it to my advantage.
Snapping my fingers, everything vanished, going black, then another snap and the two of us were standing in a field. I recognized the rolling meadow our family used for horseback riding. A line of trees bordered the grassland, and I recalled a large pond sitting on the far side of the trees. We used to swim there as children.
“What now?” Bastien said. “Another little show? Something that’s supposed to make me feel?—”
His words stopped abruptly as three boys, ranging from thirteen to fifteen, came running from the woods into the meadow, all laughing in a spiteful sort of way. The type of laugh someone does when they’re doing something petty and hurtful.
“Come and get it, Bastien,” one of the boys said, holding up a wad of fabric. “Come and get your pants, you little baby.”
From the woods, fourteen-year-old Bastien came running, fully naked, his left hand covering himself, his face and chest blotchy red from embarrassment.
“Give itback,Jean-Paul,” Bastien screamed, his voice on the verge of breaking.
The adult Bastien shook his head angrily. “Stop it,” he growled. “Stop it now. I don’t want to see this.”
“Why should we?” another boy said. “You didn’t stop when you were beating the shit out of Jean-Paul’s brother.”
“He deserved it,” Adult Bastien said, clenching his fists.
“Why did he deserve it?” I asked moving closer. “Why did a boy deserve to be beaten? Did he do something to you?”
