Page 94 of Reign of Light
He tosses something into the air and catches it, and I blink slowly as I realize what he now holds in his hands.
The dust.
So many emotions, so much time, so much effort went into finding that dust, and to keeping the healing waters away from Dane, but now, he has them again. The Guardian of Dawnlin once again has all his power and control back.
“You know,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes drag to the pouch. “This has now caused me more irritation than it has helped me. I thought it would be the answer to all my problems, but all it has done is create more. You see…” He pushes to stand and hooks the pouch to his belt, then saunters across the dais. Glaring at us with a predatory focus, his eyes fall to me, and his lips pull up in a sneer.
“It gave me the exact advantage I hoped for when it brought you to me. But, it was also supposed to ensure that you were stuckthereforever. You weren’t supposed to come back, not after you were an absolute failure and couldn’t give me what I wanted.”
My jaw aches, my teeth threatening to crack from the force of clenching as I narrow my my eyes at him.
“Why are you doing this?” I grind out, refusing to look away.
“Don’t you listen? Did you not hear me? Or were you so focused onhimshowing up to rescue you that you forgot everything the instant he opened his mouth?” He glares at Weston before turning his haughty stare back to me. “It’s all for her. Every bit of it was for her.”
“You can’t save her, Dane,” I say with a shake of my head. “None of us can.”
“I could have, but your failure destroyed that part of the plan. I prepared for something like this to happen. I hoped it wouldn’t go this way, but now that it has, I know what needs to be done.” His head snaps toward Brynne and barks at her, “Bring him in and bolt the doors.”
Brynne nods to the group behind us, and I look over my shoulder, watching as Guthrie steps away from the rest of the men and strides back down the aisle. When he reaches the end, he bends and hauls something off the ground. I swallow the lump in my throat as he wraps thick chains around the handles, winding the metal through layer after layer.
Ice-cold fear courses through my veins.
We’re trapped. Again. Dane already threatened to harm everyone I care about, back in Dawnlin when he was going to hunt the Castaways and force them to tell him where the waters are. He knows where everysingle one of them lives, because he brought them all to Dawnlin. He could go back after them and hunt each person down just as he promised. But the chains on the doors tell me something more is coming, something worse, at least for those of us standing in this throne room.
I steal a glance at Weston, but he’s barely moved. His eyes are locked on Dane, his body coiled with tension so tight, it looks like he’s ready to snap. The harsh clang of a lock snapping into place behind us makes me jolt.
Fuck. How are we going to get out of here?
Immediately I look to the door on the side of the dais, the only other entrance into the throne room, just as it opens, and a figure slides through. Brynne strides in, a smug look on her face as she takes the steps back to her position. Storm saunters in behind her, and my mind reels. What could Dane need with Storm? How is he even part of all this? He barely interacted with me, and never did with Weston during my time on Dawnlin. What could he have against my kingdom?
Storm steps to the side of the doorway and gestures to someone just beyond it, and it isn’t until the person steps through, that I realizeheisn’t the man Dane is referring to.
It is my father.
I barely recognize the man who steps out of the shadows and into the throne room. His face is sallow. His cheeks are sunken. Large dark circles beneath his eyes make him look tired and sad.
Was I the cause of this? Of his decline? Has my absence affected him this much, or was it something else? Something that Dane did? Was it actually out of concern for me, or simply because his heir was missing?
I stifle a gasp as an actual possibility makes goosebumps break out across my skin.
Was it caused by the death of my mother?
Unlike ours, my father’s hands are not bound, but he walks stiffly, as if he is trying to hide pain. The moment he spots us standing before the throne, he pauses, his eyes widening as his head hinges from me toWeston. His mouth falls open, and his legs seem to weaken as he staggers to the throne beside his. My mother’s throne. Grasping the wooden arm for support, he gapes at us in disbelief before turning to Dane.
“What is the meaning of this?” This isn’t the commanding and indifferent voice of the father I have known my whole life. This voice is weak, and pleading, and the vast difference startles me.
Guthrie crosses the room in front of Brynne, straight toward the door, and chains it closed, trapping us all inside.
“Well you see, Remington,” Dane starts, and despite my feelings toward my father, I can’t help the anger that flickers at hearing his name be used, not his title, especially from this man whose unnecessary hatred has stolen so much from me. “When I arrived, you were the only one left standing in my way, but your offspring decided to grace us with her presence after I had already dealt with her. So now we’re all here together.”
My father straightens, rising to his full height. He glances over at me before returning to meet Dane’s gaze. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Dane barges toward him, his youthful strength no match for my father’s weakened state as he fists my father’s shirt and yanks forward, pulling their faces together.
“No, you won’t! You’ve already proven that!”
My father’s face pales even further at the blow of Dane’s yell. “You can’t have her. She was never yours.”
