He’d nearly killed her in the process, but her triad with Kodiak and Vadim had proven too powerful for him. Which was why I wished she would join our side. They had the power to take the Council down but chose to continue to pursue a diplomatic course instead.
The only way reformation would happen was with Constantine Nacht out of the picture.
“Your parents were caught shortly after leaving you with Primrose and her two children,” Zen said softly. “The Elders consumed them with dark magic, severing their ties to the earth source. Which is why you ascended early.”
“You mean they tortured her parents,” I clarified. “By forcing the dark source essence into them, something I felt through Aflora and absorbed on her behalf to protect her.” Then, shortly after that, I’d protected her again when that half-crazed abomination tried to take the source from her.
I didn’t regret it. Nor would I have changed a second of it, other than to perhaps have taken her with me rather than leave her with the Elemental Fae.
“That was a burden you never should have had to bear,” Zen interjected. “I told Laki that, but he insisted on you bonding Aflora.” She shook her head. “I know you saved her life, but there were other options, Kai.”
“Other options,” I repeated sourly. “Like trying to talk Constantine off a ledge and nearly dying in the process?” I snorted. “Sure, Zen. That’s worked well.”
“At least I tried,” she replied, sounding sad. “More death isn’t the solution.”
“Tell that to Constantine,” I suggested. “I’m sure he’ll listen. What, between attacking the village to draw us out of hiding and using Aflora as bait, he’s done a fantastic job of proving he’s willing to talk things through.” I couldn’t believe I’d wasted the last thirty minutes on this nonsense. “There’s only one way forward, Zen. And it’s by responding to violence with violence.” I stood and held out my hand. “Rock.”
She heaved a sigh, and Kodiak wrapped his arm around her. “It’s not too late,” he said softly.
“But it is,” she whispered, shaking her head. “This path leads to death, Kai. I urge you to step off of it and consider alternatives.”
“My path started with death,” I countered. “It’s fitting that it’ll end similarly.” I glanced at Shade. “Out of curiosity, in all the renditions of this conversation, has it gone exactly the same? Or was this any different?”
He didn’t bother trying to hide his antics from me, his icy gaze exhausted as he stared up at me. “Always the same.”
“That’s what I thought.” I returned my focus to Zen. “Rock. Now.”
“It’s in the top drawer,” she said, gesturing to the cabinets beside the kitchen sink. “And your uncle created the spell. I’d ask him why before you attack him.”
“Uncle?” Aflora repeated, the chair moving as she slowly stood as well.
“Tadmir,” I said, a slight growl in my tone. “My mother’s half brother.” I should have known he was fucking around in my affairs.
The lack of a reaction from Shade told me he wasn’t surprised by this news either, suggesting he knew a lot more about my uncle than I’d anticipated.
Which raised several suspicions.
I studied the Death Blood for a moment and noted his vacant expression. “I could use her to dig through your mind,” I said softly.
“You could,” he agreed. “But I think she’ll give you one hell of a battle to fight in response.”
Yes, I’d felt her toying with his initial spell in her mind, learning how to create blocks of her own with cords of Quandary magic. I could break them if I had to. But it would hurt her in the process, and I really didn’t want to do that.
“Well, send my regards to Tadmir. Perhaps I’ll pay him a visit soon,” I replied, retrieving the rock purely to run my own magic over it.
Within seconds, I confirmed Zen’s statement to be true. With a shake of my head, I set it on the counter. “For the record, the spell at the Academy was a message for the Council. No one was hurt—something I personally assured—and I didn’t send the stonepecker to Aflora. I would never risk her in that way. And the village also wasn’t me.”
The statement was more for Aflora than anyone else.
But it felt right to include them all.
“It’s time to go, Aflora.” I held out my hand for her. “Unless you have more questions about the differences between reformation and retribution?”
“No, I think I got it,” she said, stepping toward me. “One side wants to negotiate. The other side wants to draw blood. The problem is, neither side is one hundred percent right.”
I arched a brow. “Oh?”
She looked at Zen. “Zakkai’s right. You can’t negotiate with a misogynistic council of men who refuse to listen to anyone other than themselves. They have already chosen to kill anything and everything they fear, which includes your Quandary Blood lineage. That alone ensures that they will never agree to a truce.”