Lethe's Kiss (Ari & Soren Book 3)

Chapter 5 - Ari

Soren leapt from his seat, a shout on his lips the moment the word 'blood' left Volkir's mouth.

"Absolutely not! Father, I forbid it!"

"Soren—"

"No!" he strode forward, standing over Volkir's seated form, seething with incendiary rage. "No—I will not allow you to endanger my beloved on some whim. And how dare you ask him such a thing—and here, in this place! Of all places! Explain yourself at once!"

"Soren, sit down."

Volkir spoke quietly, both his body and his voice as calm as still water, and yet beneath that surface lay a depth of power and authority that I couldn't begin to fathom.

Soren stood glaring, caught in silent combat; but whereas before Volkir had always yielded to his son on matters that concerned me, this time he did not.

The tension grew, the moment lengthening, and I saw Soren's face pale with strain as he fought his father's will. Then Volkir raised one brow, just slightly, and Soren broke. He let out his breath in a huff, shoulders heaving and a slight tremble in his hands. Then the turned, stalked back across the room, and retook his seat, mouth pressed in a line.

I said nothing, sensing it would be better not to interrupt.

A tense half-minute ticked by, during which Volkir remained still, watching his son like a deadly serpent poised before a strike, and Soren glared with mute fury. If I had not known that he, in fact, loved his father quite deeply, I'd have thought he wanted to murder him.

Finally, Soren's posture and expression relaxed, and he looked away. When he spoke, he said nearly the same thing as before, but in a quieter, and far more respectful tone.

"Explain your intentions, please."

Volkir nodded once, and I realized that although not a word had been spoken and neither had moved, a ferocious argument had just taken place between father and son. Soren had lost and offered an apology, and Volkir's nod (along with the tiny smile on his lips) meant that he had accepted it.

Rather than address Soren directly, he turned to me.

"Please understand, my dear, that I do not ask this lightly, and that I do very much understand your feelings regarding this place. If you refuse, I will accept and respect that choice. Neither, as I should hope you ought to know by now," he added, glancing at his son, "will I ever force you to do anything against your will. The choice is entirely yours."

Casting my own glance at Soren, who I found watching me with unhappy resignation, I said, "Of course I'll help if I can, but I don't understand why you think my blood would do any good. I thought the reason Soren had an easy turning was because of your blood, not mine."

Volkir inclined his head. "That is true, in part. Even as a hybrid, though, I expected he would experience some of the usual struggle. I kept a close watch, those first few weeks, ready to intervene the instant I sensed hunger overcoming reason in his mind. That I never had to do so came as a surprise—a pleasant one, but a surprise nonetheless."

"But why? What makes me different?" I asked. "Magick?"

"Perhaps," Volkir allowed, "though I have...partaken...of those with a gift before, and while there is a certain...sparkle...to such blood, it is, in effect, like any other. I think it is more likely the fact that—whether through your mother's line or because of the goddess-aspect that you bear—you are not entirely human, my dear."

Surprised, I sat up a little straighter in my chair. "What do you mean, 'not entirely human?' Of course I'm human."

Volkir sighed. "Dear boy, how many times is it now that you have, effectively, died? Mortals, as the name implies, typically only get the one try."