116: Darius's POV

“I’ve done some research about your father’s claims over the last few days,” Phoenix sighed heavily, tension returning to his relaxed body. “His claims are true. You are descendants of the original bloodline of the Dominion. Not even distantly, either.”

Ada blinked at my brother, her palms flat on the table in front of her, “And what does that have to do with the magick?”

Phoenix ran a hand over his chin, glancing at me before continuing, “The original bloodline had a very specific trait. They had magickal properties that manifested based on their matebonds.”

Our mate cocked her head to the side, and my chest tightened. Her eyebrows were furrowed, making small concentration lines on her forehead. She sucked her plump bottom lip into her mouth, biting on the tender flesh lightly. After a few moments, she asked, “How are they linked?”

My brother shrugged, “There are several accounts. Generally, if their destined mates also had magickal properties, they would develop the same ones. If their destined mates didn’t have magickal properties of their own,” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking straight down at the table, “They manifested traits similar that were similar to a defense mechanism in a way.”

“In a way?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Basically, they would be gifted with something similar to the part of their mate’s personality that they lacked. There were a few musings about balances and all that,” he shifted in his seat, eyes roving over the three of us, “A lot of it was incoherent ramblings by the point they were writing about it.”

“Why?” Ada’s face was a picture of confusion.

Nik jumped in, “The reason the Ashfords wiped out that bloodline and claimed the throne for themselves was because members of the old royal family were going mad.”

“Something about a curse,” Phoenix shrugged as Ada gaped.

Her eyes rested on Nik, “I have your shadows. So that makes sense,” she turned her focus onto me, “I don’t know how I *know* it, but the ice comes from you.”

I smirked, “Everyone assumes Nik is the most coldhearted of us, and they’re wrong.”

“Indeed, they are,” Nik muttered, “Darius is absolutely ruthless.”

“And the fire?” Ada’s eyes bore into Phoenix.

Phoenix stayed silent, keeping his eyes fixed on the table. She tried to nudge him, but he slid away out of reach. Nik rolled his onyx eyes and cleared his throat, “Phoenix is a double-edged sword when it comes to fire. He is both the most passionate and the most filled with rage.”

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with something I lack,” Ada spat out, turning to face Phoenix and me with an accusation in her eyes, “And everything to do with what you two repress.”

“It looks like it,” I grinned at her.

Her fingers gripped the armrests of her chair. “My father only mentioned the ice, but there’s no way he doesn’t know about the others.” Ada’s body was tense, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath my brother’s shirt. “I was on that battlefield. I used my shadows and fire. I stood side by side with Finn.”

“So you aren’t our secret weapon,” Phoenix shrugged, “He can’t use your powers against you.”

“Him having the gift of teleportation does open the door for some questions, though,” I interjected.

“Like what?” Ada asked expectantly.

I met her gaze. My cock twitched to attention, and I shifted in my chair to keep my jeans from strangling it. She was so beautiful, even when she was distressed. It had been far too long for me and for Phoenix. That was beside the point currently.

“For starters, how did you not know about his gift?” I motioned at the table, “Why has this power of his never been used in battle before? And why now? After all these years, why is this happening *now*?”

Nik sighed, “He kept it secret. He knew there was going to be a time when it would benefit him most.” My brother sat up straight and shook his head, “No. Scratch that. Our father would have killed him outright. And his father before him, and so on and so on, all the way back. The Lennoxes must have seen the writing on the wall with the original bloodline and the Ashfords and hedged their bets on the Ashfords.”

“So they’ve all been suppressing these extraordinary gifts for generations? It still doesn’t answer why Alpha Bryant chose now to come forward,” Phoenix countered, speaking animatedly with his hands.

My eyes were locked on Ada. She was listening to every word they were saying, but her eyes were glazed over with thought. I narrowed my gaze on her. Her lips parted, and a whisper escaped from between them, “The prophecy.”

My brothers stopped their back-and-forth conversation, instantly turning to look at her. She swallowed, this time stating strongly, “The prophecy. What if there was a second part? Something that was told to the original royal family, a reason the Lennoxes kept their gifts hidden and have waited.”

Nik blinked at her. Shadows swirled over to Ada, caressing her cheek lightly before disappearing into thin air. She looked over at him, and my heart squeezed. The gaze they shared could only be described as absolute devotion. Mate or not, she never looked at me like that. Well, she had at one point. Not since I made the mistake of marrying Elizabeth. How I longed to have that look directed at me again.

“Do any of us know the original bloodlines family name?” I cleared my throat, “I don’t think I do.”

“It’s been redacted from any official documentation,” Phoenix sighed, leaning back in his chair again.

Ada watched as Nik simply shook his head, his left hand going to the wound on his right side. There was a darker patch on his shirt, signalling fresh blood. The coppery scent filled the air. He waved us all off before any of us could say anything. I turned my gaze to Ada. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes off of Nik and returned them to me. Pools of honey filled my view.

She leaned back in her chair, “Lunereaux.”

“Lunereaux?” I raised my eyebrows and leaned toward her, “What makes you say that?”

Ada’s mouth was dry. She tried to swallow and came up empty. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she opened it to speak, “My father had this old journal. I found it right before he sent me to the Farm.”

“Describe it.”

“Worn, brown leather. Thick, yellowed parchment. A name was stamped onto the front of it in gold lettering— Lunereaux. I asked him about it,” she pressed her lips together tightly. “A few days later, I slapped Francine and was sent to the farm.”

I grunted, “I don’t think that slap is why you were sent to the farm at all.”

“We need to find that journal,” Ada shifted forward once more, making eye contact with each of us, “How do we do that?”