“What’s inside?” Dad asked, reemerging.
“I don’t know,” the lackey said. “All I can see on top is packing peanuts.”
As Dad walked right up to the crate, the rest of us followed. He brushed aside the foam peanuts with a few brisk sweeps of his hand and then jerked it back as if he’d been bitten. All the color drained from his face.
“What?” I sprang the rest of the way forward.
My gaze caught on the bloody stump of an arm first. He’s sent us another dismembered corpse, I thought distantly, remembering the rotting limbs Xavier had tossed through one of the mansion windows not that long ago. But this one was fresh, the only odor a sickening meaty one with no hint of rot yet, and—
My eyes slid over the arm and a protruding foot and landed on the face still half-buried in packing peanuts. My stomach lurched, and my legs wobbled under me.
It was Roland.
My older brother. How the hell— Why would Xavier— None of this made any sense.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image of my brother’s decapitated head swam behind my eyelids. Nausea crawled up from my stomach, and a different burn caught in the back of my throat.
I’d always thought— I’d never gotten the chance— How could he be dead? I wanted to scream bloody murder, to punch someone, and part of me also wanted to cry.
But I couldn’t. Not in front of Dad and all the men watching this spectacle. Not in front of my men. Even Dad was standing rigid, his hand over his mouth but no sound coming out, holding all his emotions in.
Cold and ruthless. It wasn’t the kind of leader I wanted to be all of the time, but right now, it was who I had to be. The fucker who’d done this was going to pay in blood.
Anthea’s face had paled, her mouth pressed tight, but she plucked a note out of the corner of the crate. I hope you like my gift, Ezra, it said in a hasty scrawl, followed by a signature that was simply X. As if we’d have any doubt about who this had come from.
“This is what we’re up against,” I said, pointing at the crate, relieved that my voice only shook a little bit. “This is what that psycho’s capable of, and we need every asset we can get to take him down. I’m the only heir you’ve got now. From here forward, you’ll respect that and me. We have to stand up against this asshole together and with everyone who’s willing to stand with us, which includes Mercy and the Claws who’ll follow her, or we’re going to destroy ourselves before the Storm’s people even have the chance.”
Dad was silent for another long moment, though he lowered his hand from his face. My stomach kept churning. He looked as if he’d aged ten years in that instant. His face was blank, as if he was in a place far away, his grief locked inside of him.
All this time, he’d still been hoping Roland would walk back through that door properly and reclaim the throne that’d originally been meant for him. I’d always suspected it, but I could see it written all over Dad’s face now.
He drew himself up to his full height and met my eyes. “Yes. This menace needs to be wiped right off our streets, right out of the county. Whatever it takes.”
I nodded back at him, but my spirits didn’t feel any lighter. Dad didn’t like being backed into a corner. I’d have to keep watching my back and Mercy’s. The second the Storm’s people were out of the picture, I had no idea how pissed off he’d be with me, but I didn’t for one second believe he’d just forgive my defiance.