“Good.” Evander looked at him for another moment, committing the sight of his brother to memory.
“I’ll see you soon, brother.” He clapped his hand firmly on Magnus’s shoulder, then turned toward Kyllian.
The Alpha King had watched the exchange in silence, arms folded across his chest.
Kyllian gave it one more shot for Evander to change his mind.
“You have nothing to prove, Evander. I hope you know that.”
Evander knew he did.
One glance at the soldiers chanting Magnus’s name was enough to confirm it.
Werewolves and vampires alike admired his brother.
Even seated in a wheelchair, Magnus commanded more genuine affection than most kings could purchase.
The werewolves loved him because he was one of theirs.
The vampires loved the idea of what he might have been.
Evander, however, was tolerated.
They accepted him because Magnus had surrendered the throne and Blood City possessed no stronger claimant.
They bowed because tradition demanded it.
His mother’s treason clung to him.
Every victory had to be greater.
Every decision sharper.
Every weakness buried where no one could use it.
Yes, he had something to prove.
He simply would not confess it.
“I know,” Evander said.
He picked up his wide-brimmed hat and settled it over his head, shielding his face from the hostile morning sun.
Then he turned toward the line of armoured vehicles waiting beyond the platform.
Evander walked away without looking back at first.
A king could not hesitate before his soldiers but near the first car, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
His eyes found Magnus immediately.
The brothers held each other’s gaze across the courtyard.
They had said enough, and perhaps not nearly enough.
Evander entered the vehicle.
“He will come back,” Magnus whispered, watching the convoy prepare to move.
“He has to.”
Lyra stepped forward beside him.
“Magnus?”
He turned toward her.
“I’d like to make sure you get back to Blood City safely,” she said.
Magnus raised an eyebrow.
“Not that you cannot handle yourself,” Lyra added quickly.
Of course it was.
“Do you have to be so dutiful all the time? When do you ever let your hair down, Lyra. I mean that both literally and figuratively.”
Lyra smiled.
It transformed her face.
She stepped behind Magnus with a soft chuckle.
“Come here, you…” Her hands closed around the handles of his wheelchair.
She guided him away from the platform as the departing convoy rolled through.
Magnus watched until Evander’s car vanished.
Only then did he force himself to look elsewhere.
“I’d like to say my goodbyes to your sister before we leave.”
“Ah, she is here somewhere.” Lyra steered him around a group of soldiers securing weapons into the back of a truck.
“I caught a glimpse of her handing out supplies. She is always taking care of the soldiers. It’s quite nice.”
They crossed toward a circular station near the eastern wall.
Supply crates had been arranged beneath canvas shades, their contents spilling across folding tables.
Carys stood at the centre, handing out folded towels.
As Magnus and Lyra entered the circle, conversation lowered immediately.
“Your Highnesses,” several voices greeted.
Magnus acknowledged them with a nod.
Erin stood behind Carys near a stack of sealed medical boxes, her dark hair pulled away from her face and her sleeves pushed above her elbows.
She wore fitted trousers and a loose shirt.
Garrick stood beside her.
Magnus felt irritation crawl through him.
But the moment they stepped into the circle, Garrick shifted away from Erin so suddenly that one might have assumed the space between them had caught fire.
His shoulders stiffened.
Magnus thought it was because of the conversation they had in the courtyard that morning.
Erin spotted them approaching and immediately straightened.
“Lyra… what are you doing here? I thought you were with Father.”
“I was,” Lyra replied.
“Magnus wanted to say his goodbyes.”
“Oh.” Erin looked down at him as if she had just remembered he existed.
“Of course. Goodbye.”
Lyra cleared her throat.
“Perhaps you could go with the prince. I can help you finish here.”
Erin opened her mouth to object further.
“That’s a good idea,” he said quickly.
“Princess Erin, you go with the prince. I’ll stay and assist Princess Lyra.”
“Fine,” Erin said.
She muttered instructions about medical packs then stepped away from the supply station.
Magnus placed his hands on the rims of his wheels and began moving away.
Erin followed him.
The final convoy was almost ready.
Magnus heard Erin release an impatient breath.
“Can we make this quick? The soldiers are leaving. I need to say my goodbyes.”
Magnus heard every word Erin said, but his attention remained fixed on Garrick.
The gamma had stayed near the supply station, supposedly to assist Lyra.
Yet he seemed far more interested in ensuring the Crown Princess noticed him, finding reasons to step into Lyra’s line of sight.
He watched Lyra accept a box from him with a distracted nod.
“I am leaving for Blood City,” he said.
Erin folded her arms.
“You mentioned that.”
“But I want to speak with you first.”
Her impatience softened slightly.
“About what?”
“Do you love him?” he asked.
Her face emptied.
“Excuse me?”
“Gamma Garrick.” He kept his voice level.
“Do you love him?”
“I… what…?”
The stammer told him more than any answer could have.
Erin glanced instinctively toward the supply circle.
Magnus followed Erin’s gaze.
She had never promised him affection.
Fate had done that on her behalf.
“I know about you two. I heard you both last night. And sometimes, you have his scent on you.”
“Magnus… I’m so sorry.”
Magnus breathed through the ache beneath his ribs.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You want who you want.” He paused.
“But you haven’t answered my question.”
“Magnus…it doesn’t change anything. My answer will only make both of us feel worse. I tried to make you understand.”