“Uh…well…I…yes, yes, you do look quite similar anyway,” he stammered. “Though it has been a few years since the last time I saw you, Brielle.”
Bastien turned and leveled his own uncle with a baleful glare.
“Uncle, you don’t know what you’re saying. This”-he turned back to look at me, his face twisted in disgust-“is nothing more than an imitation. If I had to guess, House Decimus had my sister killed, then brought in a skinwalker to replicate her.”
A collective gasp ran around the room. From behind me, I heard Aurelius cursing under his breath.
Our world was populated by magical creatures. Shifters and fae were the main species who lived in the shadows of the human world. In the deeper recesses, though, even rarer creatures existed. Things that were rarely seen even by our kind. A skinwalker, an ancient malevolent witch native to the Americas, was known to be able to mimic any person, even down to the voice.
“I am not a skinwalker,” I said. Though that was probably exactly what a skinwalker would say, wasn’t it?
Bastien stood only two steps from the royal guard, still looking up at me, and an evil gleam shone in his eyes. I remembered that bitter spitefulness from our time as children.
“Fine.” Bastien grinned up at. “If you aren’t, then prove it. Skinwalkers can only mimic the human form. Not the animal. Shift for us.”
An icy dagger jammed straight into my heart. The greatest secret I had. The shameful thing that had caused my family to disown me and send me into exile.
Glancing away from my brother’s angry eyes, I looked around the room. Hundreds-maybe even more than a thousand-of faces looked at me expectantly. Some appeared intrigued, others confused, still more excited.
Fuck it.
“Iam Brielle Laurent. I was born a shifter, but I have no inner wolf, and am unable to shift.”
The gasp that came from the crowd was louder this time. The dragons and fae all looked shocked and confused, the wolves appeared disgusted and offended by my mere statement. Despite me coming to terms with the fact years ago, the looks I saw in the crowd sent a pang of shame through me again. My will bent and began to crumble under the weight of those eyes and the sound of hissed conversations. That was until a warm hand touched my back.
Aurelius stood beside me, his touch grounding me, filling me with strength again. How could anyone feel small with him standing at their side?
“Do the wolves really think so badly of a woman who can’t shift?” he called out. “Something she has no control over? How is it that you have such little honor, even among yourselves?”
“Watch your mouth, you filthy lizard,” Bastien snapped.
Cassius stood, his face red. “I think the one who should watch his mouth is the man who stands in my castle as a guest.
An honored guest at that,” he said.
A memory, old and nearly forgotten, occurred to me. Something that couldn’t be faked or learned by anyone who hadn’t been there. Bringing it up might shame my brother, but at this point, what would it hurt? Plus, depending on his reaction, it might fully prove who I was.
Leaving Aurelius’s side, I nudged the guards aside, and stood face to face with my brother.
“Bastien,” I said. “If I’m not Brielle, then how would I know what you did with that serving girl when you were teenagers? Do you remember that?”
His twisted face crumpled. “What?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” I chided. “It was only a month or two before I left. I heard something in the butler’s pantry. A whispery sound? You don’t remember?”
Vitriolic anger shone in his eyes, and the veins in his forehead popped out.
“I opened the door to see what it was, and there you were, making out with one of the serving girls.”
“Bitch!”
Bastien screamed and drew his hand back to slap me.
He moved so fast I didn’t even realize he was going to strike me until the hand was already flying toward my cheek. He would have sent me sprawling, probably split my lip, and knocked me out. Would have, if Aurelius hadn’t caught his hand mid-strike. The dragon prince must have moved with lightning speed to be there to save me.
“You don’t touch her,” Aurelius growled. “No one touches her.”
Bastien looked at Aurelius in shocked outrage. “You dare lay your hands on me? Filth.”
“In my castle, I’ll lay hands on anyone I want,” Aurelius said, moving to stand between my brother and me. He squeezed Bastien’s wrist so hard that his fingertips turned white.
“As for you?” Aurelius said with a smirk. “I don’t think you are an honored guest any longer.”
Without another word, Aurelius shoved Bastien backward. My brother hit the floor and rolled back. The crowd parted with a horrified and shocked gasp.
“Bastard!” my father shouted, then shifted into his wolf form.
Bastien scrambled to his feet and shifted as well. Aurelius, Rasp, and Cassius all shifted to their dragons, reptilian faces thrashing about, bright light emanating deep in their mouths, unshed fire ready to burst forth from between their jaws. A dozen of the Laurents shifted as well, joining their patriarch and heir. This was going to go bad, and quickly. The Hikshil envoy group looked fearful as they backed away from the monsters growling and snapping at each other. Seeing them gave me an idea. Something that might keep things from devolving into bloodshed and misery.
“Stop!
” I screamed, rushing onto the dance floor to put myself between the dragons and wolves.
Aurelius’s black dragon shook its head, but he closed his mouth, ending the flames that had begun to creep up around his fangs.
“I can prove I’m Brielle Laurent. Once and for all,” I shouted, trying to be heard above the cries of terror and fear.
“And how would you do that?” a voice sneered.
Turning, I found my mother looking at me with disdain in her eyes.
Pointing to the Hikshil and other fae, I said, “The fae. Their tribes all have shamans and oracles. They can see that I’m telling the truth. They have magical ceremonies that cannot be tricked. Would that be good enough?”
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