Kindred by J. A. Redmerski Page B

for some puzzling reason I feel this great urge to say something for him. I clench my fists and hold it back. What, am I insane ? I take a sharp breath through my nose, hold it there for a moment and let it back out through my nose very slowly. “Calm down, Adria,” I hear Genna say so low that I wonder if I really heard it at all. I turn my chin sideward to look at her. Why would she say that anyway? My uncharacteristic anger can’t be that obvious, can it? Genna is still facing Nataša, but I see her eyes just barely move to acknowledge me.
    “Did you say that?” I whisper to her.
    She seems nervous now, the skin on her forehead hardening somewhat and her gaze falsely fixated on Nataša.
    Isaac’s hand tightens a little around my wrist and then slides down to lock fingers with mine. He squeezes my hand carefully, just enough to let me know that he hears every word I’m saying and that Nataša might hear it, too.
    I swallow hard and come back to my senses.
    “My son, Sethius, will be the perfect leader for the Western Stara Planina once he is properly trained,” Nataša says, and I’m glad that I’ve already adjusted to her accent. “His rulership will also encompass much of Bulgaria.” She looks to her right where Seth stands tall, obediently, and she continues, “Lord Andrei Prvoven c ani will train him and when he is ready, Sethius will fight Andrei to the death and Ascend his position.” She folds her hands together behind her back and raises her chin even higher. “It is destiny that Sethius surpass his elder brothers here in America to take this throne directly under his Great Father.”
    Every head in the room, except for mine and Harry’s, bows collectively at the title Nataša used to address Trajan. Mine and Harry’s eyes lock from across the room, both of us wondering if we should be doing the same. Just as everyone else is raising their heads, Harry’s lowers in a cumbersome, delayed reaction.
    I figure it’s too late for me so I shrug it off and hope no one notices.
    Nataša’s cold, narrow eyes skirt me, but she doesn’t say anything. I swallow another lump lodged in the back of my throat.
    A fight to the death? That’s pretty harsh. I look over at Seth, the way he stands there with his chest pushed out solidly, his back straight and his chin held high. His short, dark, copper-colored hair cut neatly on top, accentuating his matching copper-colored eyes. He doesn’t seem to be afraid. I don’t suspect an ounce of discomfort in his face.
    His girlfriend however, standing against a far wall, looks extremely uncomfortable. Her light brown hair rests down around her rounded face and tapered eyes; her mouth is pulled into a nervous frown.
    “Who is Andrei,” I whisper to Isaac without looking at him.
    He whispers back in the same stealthy manner, “Our brother.”
    Another brother? I want to ask more questions now, but I know I’ve been pushing the limits and so I stay quiet instead.
    “When you all see Sethius again,” Nataša continues, “he shall be addressed only as Lord Sethius. To address him as any other name is a death sentence.” She looks in our direction again. “His brothers are not exempt and will also forfeit their lives, just as they forfeit their duties.”
    Isaac’s hand tightens around mine more forcefully, but I know this time it was Nataša’s words that caused it.
    “ Breathe , Adria,” I hear Genna say and I swing my head around harshly this time to see her.
    “ What ?” I say aloud.
    She doesn’t respond.
    The Collective looks right at me now.
    Isaac grips my hand so tight that it can only mean I’m being warned.
    Nataša looks right at me and this time doesn’t look away. I feel her gaze tearing through me with burning indignation.
    “Is this your mate?” she says to Isaac, still staring into my eyes and now moving through the crowd toward us.
    “Yes, Lord Nataša,” Isaac answers, bowing his head once.
    Lord ? I feel my face crinkle at that