Falcyn spun around, trying to sting him one more time with his tail.
Max caught it with his talons and bit it so hard, Falcyn yelped.
Illarion glared at him. Was that necessary?
Max released his tail. “Little bit.”
With an irritable growl, Falcyn shot fire at him.
Illarion froze it with his powers. He glared at Falcyn. We are down to the last four of our house. Can you please not cull our lineage any more?
“Then you’d best get him out of my sight.”
Falcyn…
“I mean it, Illy. I’m not in the mood.” He lumbered off toward his gate.
“I need a dragonstone, Falcyn. My children and swan will die without it.”
Falcyn froze. “You dare to ask me for that?”
“You’re the only one left who has one.”
Falcyn turned to pin each of them with a fierce, stern glower. “And I really don’t give a fuck. Go home. Both of you. I never want to see you again.”
With those cold words spoken, he vanished between the gates.
Stunned, Max stared after him. “Are you serious?”
I’m sorry, Max.
Unable to believe this, he laughed bitterly. “I knew you were selfish and cold, Fal, but this… Mom would be proud to know how much you take after her. I wish I’d killed you when I had the chance, you bastard!”
Stop, Max. You know why he feels this way.
Yeah, sure. Like everyone else, he blamed Max for things Max hadn’t wanted. For things he couldn’t help. That he’d done everything to avoid.
Now Sera and his children would pay for it.
Max ached with the weight of his guilt and pain. It wasn’t right. He didn’t mind carrying the burden of his punishment. He was used to it. But he couldn’t stand for the blowback to hit his family.
Not even Falcyn.
But there was nothing he could do. His heart broken that he’d failed, he led Illarion back to Sanctuary so that he could spend whatever time he had left with his wife before the gods returned her to a cold, dead statue.
Medea hesitated outside her parents’ bedroom as a bad feeling went through her at the uncharacteristic silence that greeted her. Not that the sounds she normally heard whenever she ventured here at this hour were comforting, far from it, but…
“Mom? Dad?”
The door opened by its own volition.
Even more wary, she slid her hands to her weapons, ready to attack whatever threat might be waiting in the large, candlelit room. With its covers rumpled, the king-sized four-poster bed was empty. On one side, the drapes were pulled away as if it’d been vacated quickly.
Then she heard the faint telltale sound of sickness from the bathroom.
“We’re in here,” her father called.
Still not sure this wasn’t a trick, Medea moved quickly, yet cautiously toward the retching sounds.