Page 5 of Insurrection
Oh well.
My dad and I were super close, and over the years there had been people who had tried to drive a wedge in our family because they didn’t believe I should be considered an heir. Mostly women who’d tried to replace my mother. But each and every time, my dad not only saw through their attempts but dismissed them from court. He was extremely protective of our small family, and even though my mother wasn’t in the picture anymore, I knew there would never be anyone else for him.
“Ama!” He stood up as everyone stared at us, my lighthearted pace taking me up the marble stairs that led to where his dark stone throne sat. Honestly, it was a super cool throne, if I did say so myself. Not only was it made of completely solid stone, carved from one piece, but the bottom of it was covered with skulls that had been welded into place, facing outwards so their dark sockets stared at you from all directions.
A little creepy, but like I said, pretty damn cool.
“Hey, Dad!” I flashed a smile as he offered a small wave of a hand, dismissing those around him as he motioned for me to follow him. I couldn’t lie, I absolutely loved that he was taking the time out of his day—and theirs—to have a meeting to brief me on everything. He knew how harsh the royals were to me and always strived to prepare me to the best of his ability. To say he was a pretty fantastic dad was the understatement of the century.
I always found it odd to see my dad looking so ‘casual’ compared to his royal Reaper style. You would have thought it would be the opposite, right? Nope. When he attended court, which was only about once a week, he ditched the dark robes and intimidating magic for jeans and a t-shirt with loafers. Very dad-ish indeed. He still looked scary as hell though.
Clearly I’d gotten most of my looks from my mother, because my dad was not only extremely tall—like over 6’5”—but he had zero of the trademark Succubus traits I’d inherited. He also had the typical Reaper silver hair, which he wore in a messy style that made him look far younger than the thousands of years he’d probably been around. Despite him always evading the question when I asked him how old he was, I was still bound and determined to find out eventually.
Behind his throne was a set of heavy dark doors, guarded by nearly ten men who immediately let us through. My father’s scythe and crown almost immediately disappeared once we were inside his private business quarters. If there was one thing I knew about my dad, it was that he took absolutely no joy in ruling.
In fact, if there had been anyone ready and willing to take his place, he would probably have handed it over immediately. Unfortunately, the only true heir to the position was hated by the entire kingdom. Yeah, that was me. Which was why they had been training Drayven.
“I was worried something had happened on your flight when you didn’t show up on time.” He sat down on one of the couches as I groaned in response, dramatically laying out across the other couch and kicking my combat boots up onto the table that was set with a stunning lunch neither of us would probably touch. Not that it didn’t look delicious, but whenever I was near such a large group of judgmental pricks, I sort of lost my appetite. They’d probably find a way to talk shit about the way I chewed.
“No, my flight itself was perfect.” I scowled, my wings fluttering against my back as if struggling for release from their glamour. “Lily was waiting for me at my usual ledge, so I got caught up in the storm in an attempt to avoid her crap.”
“You know I can kick them out,” he offered, leaning back and giving me a pointed look. He had offered this a million times over.
“No,” I groaned, “Her parents are decent people. I don’t want to punish them for their daughter being crappy.”
“You must have gotten your compassion from your mother, because I would have booted their asses out already.” He looked to the side, where rain pelted the window. I scowled at the mention of my mother and my being anything like her.
She was a hot topic of debate between us. Where my dad was still smitten with the woman who had given birth to me then ditched us, I was completely disenchanted. In fact, she was the reason I was so detached from my Succubus side.
Once upon a time, my dad and mom had gotten together and had me. The issue? Because of my mom’s magic and natural tendencies as a Succubus, she’d decided—after already bringing me into the world—that she wasn’t suited to marriage or children because they tied her down. So, she left, and I had no idea where she was to this day. I had a feeling my father knew, but he wasn’t going to tell me. Probably because he knew I would do something rash.
“Oh yes, so compassionate,” I rolled my eyes, “She must have used up all that compassion before she decided to ditch us and never return.”
Call me crazy but once you decided to have a kid with someone, I felt like that made shit pretty real, right? Or maybe I was just old fashioned and wanted to be in love with someone enough that the idea of not being with them was actually painful. To be in love with someone so much that I wanted to create an entire life with them—whatever that entailed. Then again, Succubus culture had a different perspective on things than Reaper culture did, so I shouldn’t have been so surprised. It hurt nonetheless. I couldn’t help feeling like I wasn’t good enough for her to stick around.
“Ama,” my dad warned lightly as I grumbled and closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath before deciding to shake the moody cloud hanging over me from this nonsense. I would think about her later.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked curiously.
“Yes!” He clapped and leaned forward, offering me a persuasive smile that spelled trouble. “So, here's the thing. I have to ask a favor of you—”
A loud knock on the door had my father rolling his eyes and muttering a curse as he stood up and walked towards it. Screaming between two voices erupted from the other room, no doubt because of a dispute, and my dad paused and drew in a breath, knowing the argument wouldn’t settle down until he demanded so.
“We will finish this conversation later, at dinner.” He offered me a thoughtful look and then scowled, “if these dumbasses don’t cause me to die of annoyance.”
I laughed as he slammed the door behind him, and I looked out the window, wondering if I should follow him into the throne room. Probably not, right? I knew for a fact that he didn’t want to be here any more than I did and wouldn’t expect me to follow. I think a stroll outside was in order while he wrangled the court members. At least the rain seemed to be easing up to only a light misting. Lucky me.
Standing up, I narrowed my eyes at the door, hearing the yelling continue at increasing volumes and knowing that if I went in there I would be annoyed at not only the drama, but also at everyone’s eyes on me—including Drayven’s gaze.
Yep. That was more than enough reason for me to turn towards a private exit from the chamber that would take me down a long, narrow hall towards the courtyard we often had lunch in. Politics be damned—I was using this time to get the heck out of here and enjoy some peace and quiet after a rough day.
Plus, I was positive we could just talk about whatever we needed to at dinner tonight. Despite my dad being busy, dinner was something I could always count on with him. He never canceled or missed it.
Familywas something I could always count on…even if it was just me and my dad.
Chapter Three
Finias
