AERIS
Chapter 7
Aeris didn't speak.
She couldn't.
Her fingers clenched tighter around the hilt of her sword, rage blooming in her chest like wildfire in dry grass.
Zerek, the heathen prince, sat like he owned the room.
Sprawled in a carved chair, one hand draped over his knee, the other resting lazily on the armrest, he watched Selene without moving—like a man who had either grown bored of the performance or was enjoying it far too much. He didn't even glance up when Aeris stormed in, sword in hand.
She stopped short.
The blade lowered, not by choice but by the heaviness of the moment pressing down on her shoulders. Her grip around the hilt tightened as her gaze landed on Selene—her proud, careful sister—clumsily tying the front of her laced gown. The ropes slipped through her fingers once, twice, before she gave up, flushed and trembling. Her eyes flicked toward Aeris, then away. She couldn't meet her gaze.
"What's going on?" Aeris asked, her voice quiet and fractured, like a thread pulled too tight. "What did you do to my sister?"
Her voice barely carried through the space, but her rage built like thunder behind the walls. She raised her sword, ready to strike, her feet already shifting forward—until Soren caught her arm, anchoring her.
Then—
"Aeris. Behave." Selene's voice was calm. Not small. Not broken. Calm.
Aeris turned, startled. She searched her sister's face for pain, for shame—anything. But Selene stood tall now, back straight, chin lifted. Her composure was back like a mask sliding into place. She looked every inch the poised noblewoman she had always been.
"Do not speak to the prince that way," Selene said, arms folded neatly across her bodice, her tone clipped and cool. Those steady blue eyes narrowed like they had when Aeris spilled ink on her embroidery as children—ready to scold, not console.
Aeris felt the world tilt, just slightly. "But he dragged you to his chamber and made you—" Aeris couldn't finish. The words choked on the truth she already knew.
Selene would never bare her skin to any man unless he was her husband. Or someone she loved. And Selene had never loved—never even kissed, if Nyra was to be believed. Too proper. Too cautious. Too guarded. That was why every engagement dissolved before vows were spoken. Why now? Why him? And why, in the name of every god watching, was she standing there calmly… scolding her?
"I came here with my own two feet," Selene said, voice steady. "Nobody dragged me. It was my choice."
Aeris's heart beat like a war drum. She searched her sister's eyes for even the smallest betrayal—some flicker of coercion, of manipulation—but she found nothing. No lie.
"Why?" she shouted, her voice shaking. "He is the bastard who killed our brother! Why would you come to see him?"
Selene drew in a breath. But before a single word could leave her lips, Zerek moved.
It wasn't sudden. It was casual. Quiet. But somehow, every sound in the room died in deference to him.
He stood.
The air thickened as he crossed to the bed, lifting the thick fur cloak slung over the corner. He threw it over his broad shoulders and only then did he turn.
"'Why' is a good question," Zerek said, voice low and rough with something dangerous beneath. He glanced toward the other barbarian still posted by the door, and his mouth curved in a crooked smile. It never touched his eyes. Those eyes were ink-black, unblinking.
"But you ask the wrong question," he said.
His voice deepened, sharpened as he stepped forward. "Why," he went on, looking now at Aeris, "did your family—the great, noble Duskari—drag a simple human girl to your land and murder her?"
He kept coming, slow, deliberate.
"Why did your brothers kill her and leave her body for the vultures?" His voice rose with each step.
"Why did your father not punish them?" he thundered. "Why did no one lift a hand to save her?"
He stopped In front of Aeris now, towering, shadow stretching long behind him.
"Why," he breathed, "did your people do nothing—nothing—while she screamed?"
"Wha—" Aeris knew he was too close, knew she should move, but her feet betrayed her. The dark aura unfurled around him, thick and suffocating, pressing against her skin like a storm-heavy sky. Deep in her chest, her wolf whimpered, surrendering to the weight of him, but Aeris' eyes did not yield. They burned, fierce and untamed, spitting fire.
"I don't know what any of that means," she said, voice no longer raised.
Zerek leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Don't worry, you will soon."
And with that, he strode through the door, unbothered, unscathed. To his men, he threw back carelessly, "The Duskari princesses are nothing special, eh?"
Laughter erupted—low, guttural, carried by men who relished the weight of his presence. Their prince led them out, taking the oppressive force of his aura with him.
Selene exhaled sharply, fingers clutching at her chest, her expression carved in horror. She turned to Aeris, drawing her close, wrapping trembling arms around her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice barely there. "I didn't want you to see that."
Aeris inhaled deep, forcing herself back into her body, shaking off the lingering spell of his presence. She pulled Selene's arm away, searching her gaze. "What did you do, Selene? What are you sacrificing for me this time?"
Selene tried to avert her gaze again, but Aeris had had enough.
She let go of her sword—it clattered in the silence, caught just in time by Soren's quick hands—and seized her sister's soft cheeks between her fingers, firm and hard.
"Tell me the truth!"
"Ow, ow—Aeris!" Selene squeaked, squirming in her grip. "Soren, please! My sister doesn't know how strong she is!"
Soren made a move to pry Aeris's hands away, but she turned to him with a glare that could sear through iron. He wisely backed off.
"I'm not joking, Selene," Aeris said, voice low, eyes fierce. "Whatever it is—whatever you, Father, and everyone else has been hiding from me—just tell me. I promise, it'll be okay."
"Will it?" came Thorne's dry voice from behind.
Aeris didn't turn in time—he stepped up and smacked her lightly on the head with two knuckles. She winced and dropped her hands from Selene's face.
"Look at you," Thorne muttered. "Storming into danger with half the story. You don't even know what you're asking."
Before she could snap back, Eiran's voice rang out as he entered.
"Silly girl," he sighed, hands on his hips. "How many times will you make us run after you? You'll be the death of me, I swear."
One by one, they filed in—her brothers, her sisters. All of them. All except Father.
And they were all staring at her the same way: weary, protective, and cornered.
"Fine," Aeris said, arms crossed, chin raised. "Let's have a family meeting. Right here, right now. Because if you don't, I swear I'm going to keep chasing Zerek around with a sword."
There was a moment of silence. Then Selene sighed. Thorne ran a hand through his hair. Eiran groaned. Lazeran leaned against the wall and muttered something about headaches.
But in the end, they all exchanged a look—the eldest siblings—and made a decision.
No more hiding.