Chapter 126

Brock Kincade was slumped over his escritoire in his small study at Castle Kincade. The last candle he could afford to spare was burning down to the end of its wick, the wax pooling at the base of the candleholder. Outside, the wind whistled through the tapestries and cracks in the stone and glass, filling every room with an inescapable biting wind, even in the spring.

The papers in front of him blurred together as exhaustion plagued him. But he had to stay awake in case he was needed. It seemed that the weight of the world crushed down upon him. Upstairs his father was dying, and the thought of it was leaving Brock's life in a state of upheaval.

The study door banged open and his younger brother Brodie stood there, chest heaving as though he'd run the entire way.

"You must come. It's time."

Brock licked his thumb and forefinger and snuffed out the candle. He rose from his chair and followed Brodie up the winding, narrow steps to the tower where their father's chambers were.