Eleven
Alex felt the blood drain from her face. She barely noticed the Meyarins’ infuriated reactions to D.C. mentioning their banished prince. If they thought Alex was teaming up with Aven, then she was so dead, no matter what explanation she gave as to why they’d been found at Raelia.
“There’s no way you can think I—”
“Your blood is tainted, just like all Garseth,” Zain interrupted. “There’s no denying it.”
Alex shook her head in bewilderment. But then her eyes widened in realisation and she raised her hand, staring at the silvery scar across her palm.
Her fear and confusion dissolved into anger. “Oh, I’m going to kill him. I don’t care if he’s immortal and I can barely keep up in Combat—he’s dead. Stupid Meyarins ruining my life. Is it too much to ask to just be normal for a change?” She practically yelled the last part of her rant, staring up at the ceiling as if hoping for some kind of divine intervention. When none came, she sighed and lowered her gaze. “I think I can explain. But you need to promise to hear me out.”
“We don’t need to promise you anything, Garseth,” Zain said, stepping forward threateningly.
Alex returned the glare he sent her. “Then I guess you don’t want to hear about how Aven Dalmarta tried to use an ancient blood-bonding ritual to Claim me so I would open a doorway through the Library and grant him entrance into Meya?”
The silence that came with her exclamation was thick with tension.
Finally, the king spoke. “Zain, please escort Niyx back to his cell and return here immediately.”
The guard left quickly, his eyes still wide with surprise.
Silence descended upon them and Alex decided to throw diplomacy out the window by trudging over to slump down into her chair, knowing she would have to wait for Zain to come back before she began her story.
It took barely any time at all for the guard to return, and again he brought someone with him—another male Meyarin, but he clearly wasn’t a prisoner. The newcomer was tall and well built, with glossy black hair and warm golden eyes.
“Explain yourself, little human,” the king ordered once the door was closed. His gaze was much cooler now than it had been earlier.
“First off, my name isn’t ‘little human’,” she said irritably. “It’s Alex.”
D.C. winced at her disrespect, but the new Meyarin who had entered with the guard chuckled quietly, and the king seemed to thaw a little with her words.
“Please tell us your story, Alex,” King Astophe asked, much more politely.
She took a deep breath and began. “I first met Aven about nine months ago…”
Alex told them about all of her dealings with the disowned prince, including how and why he’d attempted to Claim her, and how her willpower gift allowed her to break through his control. She didn’t bother mentioning that she’d been stabbed in the back by the ice-coloured dagger, thinking it was irrelevant, but she did detail her most recent encounters with him, including his newest threats. She also told them about the other gifted humans he appeared to be collecting, and how they seemed to have adopted some of his Meyarin characteristics, like longer lifespans. She ended with how she’d agreed to be a messenger to inform the Meyarins about their Rebel Prince, since she was Chosen by the Library and could therefore open a doorway to their city.
“… And that’s why we’re here. The Library opened up at Raelia, so, like we said, we weren’t deliberately trespassing. It would be great if you decided not to, you know, kill us.”
Alex cringed at her lame ending and trailed off into silence.
After a few tense seconds, the Meyarins began speaking to each other in their native language, and she glanced at her friends.
“I’ll bet you’re regretting not sneaking out now,” Jordan whispered.
“Maybe a little,” Alex admitted. But she knew she’d done the right thing. The Meyarins now knew about Aven, and that was what mattered most.
When the talking around them ceased, the newest, unknown Meyarin walked over to Alex and knelt in front of her.
“May I please see your hand, Alex?”
Alex wasn’t sure if it was because he’d asked so nicely, or because of his mesmerising eyes and kind face, but she didn’t hesitate to open her scarred hand for him to inspect. He gently held her palm up to the light and inspected the silver line where Aven’s dagger had sliced her skin.
“It healed straight away?” he asked, the curiosity plain on his face.
“Only after…” Alex paused and swallowed. She found it difficult to recount that particular memory as it had been so disturbing at the time and had become even more distressing later when she realised what had happened. “Only after he joined our bloodied hands together.”
The image of their combined red and silver blood trickling down her arm was something she would never forget.
The Meyarin nodded in understanding and released her hand. He moved to stand beside Kyia and turned to speak to the king and Zain. “Alex smells like one of the Garseth because Aven’s blood runs in her veins. I don’t believe she’s otherwise associated with him.”
Alex furrowed her brow. “No, that’s not right.”
The Meyarin looked at her, surprised. “Are you saying you are one of Aven’s Rebels?”
“What? No!” Alex shook her head adamantly. “I’m saying you’re wrong about Aven’s blood being in my veins. That’s just… not right. Fletcher—Akarnae’s doctor—he said I’m all me and there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You might not be Claimed anymore,” the Meyarin told her, “but Aven mixed his blood with yours using an extremely dark ritual. Bonded or not, a trace of his Meyarin heritage lingers within you.”
Alex felt the room spin and she was glad she was sitting down or else she might have fainted. Or thrown up. The latter remained a strong possibility.
“This is not my life,” she whispered, rubbing her fingers across her face.
D.C. reached out and pressed a reassuring hand against “Hey, you’ve got to admit, it’s pretty cool,” Jordan said. “Not everyone can claim to be part Meyarin.”
“Mate, I don’t think you’re helping,” Bear said, seeing Alex’s rapidly paling face.
“I still say we need to verify the truth of her words,” Zain said to the other Meyarins. “We can all see the mark of the bonding; how can we be sure she’s no longer Claimed by the Rebel Prince? What if she’s under his control right now and this is all an act? If she truly isn’t Garseth, then that will easily become evident. But if she is, then that too will be revealed.”
“What’s he talking about?” Alex asked her friends, but none of them seemed to know.
“Sire, I wish for your permission to verify her claim,” Zain said, speaking directly to the king.
King Astophe looked from Zain to Alex and then to the unnamed Meyarin, who shrugged at the king’s unasked question.