The Beast Within (The Elite Series) - By Jonathan Yanez Page 0,52

this is going to work.”

Connor followed the guard.

“He’ll be fine,” Morrigan said, looking at Laren.

“I think the kid will be more than fine.” Lu walked around the table and picked up the bone Connor had tried to break. He offered it for examination. Almost hidden to the naked eye were thin fractures in the bone.

CHAPTER 12

CONNOR FOLLOWED THE STOIC GUARD. His companion’s countenance was far from comforting. Since leaving the room, the stranger hadn’t offered so much as a smile. The guard was walking rapidly, making Connor half run at times, to a section of the castle he was unfamiliar with. Instead of rooms and multiple doors on either side of long halls, this section had stone flooring and suits of armor, long past their prime, lining the walls.

This part of the castle seemed older. Connor licked his lips, the air was damp. Soon the hall came to an end, opening into the biggest banquet room Connor had ever seen. The room he had dined in with Laren, Lu and Morrigan could have fit in this one eight times. Everything was made of stone; huge stone pillars lined either side of the area, and four gigantic fireplaces roared their warmth, strategically placed in the corners of the room.

In the center of the room, the five members of the Council lounged at a small table. It seemed as though they just finished their own meal and were conversing among themselves. From afar they looked like a group of old friends sharing a bottle of wine. Much to Connor’s surprise, there were even smiles and laughter ringing out from the group.

Connor got closer and the family leaders composed themselves, all eyes on him.

“Connor Moore, as the Council requested,” the guard said with a bow.

“Thank you, Kale. You are dismissed,” Laren’s father responded.

Bowing out of their presence, the guard left. Connor, nearly forgetting the custom, sank to his knees, his eyes studying the stone floor.

“Oh get up. If you’re the savior the sorceress says you are, you have no business kneeling to us.”

The speaker sounded German and reminded him of Faust. Connor looked up to see two strong blue eyes and an honest smile. The man who spoke to him was somewhere around the age of Laren’s father, his receding hairline made him easily recognizable as one of the two Council members who had not spoken at the trial.

“Oh, let him be, Raban. He’s confused enough.”

Raban looked at Thema with feigned reverence and a smile. “As your majesty wishes.”

Thema rolled her eyes at Raban and smiled. A simple purple dress flowed freely around her body and a golden chain hung loosely around her neck.

“So, Connor Moore. Are you the savior of our people?” The question was blunt, one they were all thinking, including Connor. It was directed at him from the final member of the Council. He was leaning against a pillar. Connor could see his shorter-than-average height, his close-cut black hair, what Connor could see clearer though, were his bright amber eyes.

Be confident and honest. He heard Laren’s advice play again in his head.

Still dressed in his suit, minus the black jacket, Connor felt bare against their shrewd expressions. He forced himself to stand straight and look them in the eyes. “I don’t know if I’m the savior that Morrigan says I am. Until today, I didn’t even know who my father was. A week ago, I had no idea a superior race existed secretly among humans.”

He paused, mentally kicking himself. Come on, Connor, this isn’t the way you want to talk to people who hold your life in their hands.

There was no going back now he had to finish. “What I do know is that if I am this savior, I will do everything in my power to live up to my name. Whatever strength I have, whatever power flows in my blood, will be sworn to fulfilling the prophecy.”

There was a silence in the room that lasted far too long for Connor to feel comfortable. Did I say too much? Did I not say enough? Maybe I should have just told them I am the savior and be done with it.

It seemed like an eternity before someone spoke. “Well said, Mr. Moore,” Laren’s father congratulated him. “You were wise not to lie. We can sniff out a liar a mile away—one of the perks of living for hundreds of years.”

“Well, we know he’s not a liar, but is he the Judge of the prophecy?” Morrigan’s brother pounded his fist on