"I quit." Christian dropped his suitcase onto the marbled floors of the great Dannek castle.

His father, the king, looked up from the space above the mantel where a single candle burned, illuminating the portrait above him.

They were in the study, a room with high ceilings, thick wooden beams running the length of it.

Thick velvet drapes tapered the windows emblazoned with the Dannek family crest of two lions holding double-edged swords.

"Did you say something?"

"I said." Christian gritted. "I quit. I don't care what you do to me. I've wasted enough of my life chasing after the Hybrid and I'm done. I want my life back."

He held his breath, waiting for the fury that was sure to come.

Perhaps the end for him was near. Not many got to say no to the king and be allowed to live. But he thought of what his father had been asking of him all these years, to risk his life, sacrifice it even just for the sake of finding the hybrid.

And that was no way to live.

"I didn't realize you were so unhappy with your task." Henric said, feigning innocence.

"I am, father."

Henric studied a goblet of wine resting on the mantel with great concentration. He ran one pale finger along a drop of condensation that slide down the side of the brass chalice.

"Then perhaps you should not be commander."

"Perhaps you are right."

Henric's chin cast up, watching Christian out of the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps you are no longer my son but a coward."

"Perhaps." Christian repeated over a knot in his throat.

What did it matter if he was disowned and gave everything up anyway? His life had ended a long time ago. It ended the moment he accepted the task of finding and killing Aimee.

And now he'd grown exhausted by it all.

He wasn't even sure why he was supposed to kill her.

Aimee wasn't evil, as he'd been lead to believe.

Wouldn't the more clever move be to use her for the good of the kingdom?

If he were King, that's what he would've done.

Because with her as an ally, they'd be nearly untouchable. Stefan wouldn't dare attack them then.

But instead, all Henric wanted to do was kill her. He said it was to prevent her from ever being used against their kingdom but Christian was beginning to believe what he'd long suspected to be true: it was and had always been about revenge for Henric.

Aimee was a smart and stubborn woman and after getting to know her the past few weeks, he couldn't bring himself to believe she'd blindly join somebody else's war. That she'd join forces against Reader nation just because someone told her to.

Whoever thought she would, clearly hadn't met her yet.

And as much as he hated to admit it, after what had happened the other night, and the confusing storm of emotions that had followed within him, he realized he was no longer the right man for this job.

He'd felt like complete and utter scum, seeing her with those big violet eyes, looking up at, thank him. And thanking him for what? For lying to her? Deceiving her? For trying to deliver her to her death?

He couldn't do that and still look at himself in the mirror.

"I am ashamed of you."

Christian tipped his chin in acknowledgement. He knew his next words were dangerous but he said them anyway.

"As am I, father. You have let your desire for revenge cloud what is best for your kingdom and I pray it won't be your downfall."

"Go and stay gone, traitor," Henric commanded, an undercurrent of hatred in his voice. "Out of respect for your mother, I will not kill you where you stand. But if you ever return to my castle, it will be the death of you."

"I understand." Christian responded.

Pain clawed at his chest but also relief.

He tried not to think about everything he was leaving behind as he swung on his heels and headed for the door. His home, his siblings--whom he vowed to find a way to bring with him--all the little fragments that made up his identity, behind him forever.

It was bittersweet but it was for the best.

He had almost neared the exit when Henric spoke.

"Perhaps," He called out. "Henry would be better suited for the job. I shall have him fetched from his studies at once and send him to investigate Stefan."

Christian froze by the door, his hands balling into fists. He knew automatically what his father was threatening: that if Christian didn't fulfill his mad wishes, he'd use his family as punishment.

He knew, was acutely aware in fact, that Henric Dannek, the King of the Readers was a ruthless man, and though Christian could handle a threat aimed at himself, he could not bear the thought of him hurting his family.

The monster.

Knowing any threat he made against Christian would hold no water, not when he cared so little for his own miserable life, he'd gone for the one thing he knew would bend him to his will.

Christian was under no impression that his father had ever been a good man, much less a father, but to hear him threaten his own blood gutted him.

"Vincent is older." Christian muttered through gritted teeth. He wasn't sure what he was hoping to achieve. To sway him, maybe? But Henric was not a man who could be swayed.

But if he planned to send anyone to their death, it should be Vincent, the traitor. Not young, gentle Henry.

He felt a scorching anger rolling through his shoulders like waves. A bitter, metal taste filled his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to lunge at his father and tear the veins from his throat.

"Vincent is away on other business. In fact, before you go, why don't you help me decide who will take your place? Daciana, perhaps?"

"No!" Christian growled as he spun around to face him.

"You are right, she is only a dumb woman."

Christian took a step toward him but Henric held up a warning hand.

"Ah ah ah, my boy. Contain your rage. Save it for the hybrid."

Christian was shaking by now with unspent energy. His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood yet he was a man who burned from the inside, unable to exact justice on the monster who stood before him threatening the people he loved most in this world.

His father had come closer while he taunted him and now stood a few feet from him, his hands calmly clasped in front of his dark robes.

"You would send your own child to be killed simply to satisfy your need for revenge?" Christian said slowly, perhaps even in disbelief.

"My children bend to my will, not the other way around." Henric warned, a dark glint overcoming his blue eyes. "And they are mine to do what I please."

Christian and Henric stared one another down. Both of their eyes burned like blue flames and Christian saw in his gaze that Henric would absolutely make good on his promise.

He was not bluffing.

Accepting defeat, Christian looked away.

His mother and siblings all flashed behind his eyes as he shut them.

He had to do this, for them.

He hardened his heart toward Aimee, refusing to see her as a person.

She was the enemy.

He swallowed hard.

She was his enemy.

Because killing an enemy was easier than killing an innocent.

"I trust you have found the motivation to continue on your mission after all." Henric said.

Without another word, and hating his father with the fire of a thousand suns, Christian headed for the foyer where he found Olga, the wide-eyed maid, pretending to dust a vase.

For all intents and purposes, Olga was a second mother to him and knowing she must have heard the entire exchange, he shot her a rueful smile.

Her lips cracked and returned the sad smile though it did not reach her eyes.

Not allowing his eyes to linger for even a second more, he dashed to the front of the castle, where the portcullis awaited.

It was then that his phone chimed in his pocket.

He picked it up.

"Cousin," Brandon's voice sounded on the other line. "You need to get to Aimee. She's about to do something real stupid."

"What's going on?"

"I messed up. I was drunk and I told her where the Verlacs live. She's on her way there now."

Christian paused, his grip on the phone tightening.

His jaw clenched and his heart raced in his chest.

She was a stupid, stubborn fool.