26 – SHE IS OUR WEAPON

26 – SHE IS OUR WEAPON
26 – SHE IS OUR WEAPON
Prince Darlon Sweeney

When she whispered that we were under attack and Meridian stepped in front of me, shielding me, I couldn’t just stand there like I usually do—I acted. I drew my sword and began moving, striking down my enemies until they were eliminated, and the soldiers began clearing away their bodies.

After wiping the blood from my sword and sheathing it, I turned to Meridian. She seemed off. Her gaze was fixed on a man whose face was partially masked. When he looked at me, he fled. I couldn’t stop wondering who he was and why Meridian hadn’t attacked him. I kept watching her until she asked if I had seen it—seen him. The man she hadn’t struck, standing frozen instead. I pretended not to understand what she was talking about, and we left it at that.

Later, back in our room, as everything settled, she sat on the bed, closed her eyes, and rested for a moment. I watched her until she opened her eyes suddenly, looking startled. I moved closer, asking if she was okay, and she seemed to brush it off, claiming she was just tired.

But… I knew something was going on.

“I’m going to check on things. My father will likely summon me,” I said, and just as I spoke, the door creaked open. One of the guards informed me that my father was calling for me, just as I had predicted.

“I’ll be back. Rest,” I told her. She only nodded, watching me for a moment, before I left the room to follow the soldier.

The room was lit by torches, their flickering light casting dancing shadows across the walls. My father sat on his throne, which seemed less like a chair and more like an extension of his dark, commanding presence. Spread across the obsidian table beside him were maps marked with routes, territories, and what he liked to call “points of inevitable conquest.”

“What do you make of this attack?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on the maps.

“There’s something more to it,” I said, my thoughts lingering.

“Such as?” My father’s tone was distant, almost dismissive.

“They’re coming,” I said. “For a fleeting moment, one of the wolves seemed connected to her—like she recognized them. It unsettled her.”

“Do you think the magic is failing?” he asked.

“If it were, she wouldn’t still be here,” I replied with a shrug. “I’m saying she seems conflicted, torn between identities. As though fragments of whom she once was are still there.”

“That cannot happen,” my father said firmly. “How is our plan progressing?”

“It’s moving forward. We’re making progress,” I replied, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

“That’s not enough,” he snapped, his sharp gaze piercing me. “Are you incapable of getting a renegade into bed?”

His words hit like a whip across my body, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was questioning my capability as a man or because he referred to Meridian like she was just another disposable pawn.

“That’s not all you’re asking of me,” I shot back.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking of you,” he roared, his voice reverberating through the room. Something stirred inside me, and I took a deep breath. “She is our weapon, and all I’m asking is for you to do what you were trained to do before the wolves take her back! Turn her into something that cannot escape. You know how to play this game better than anyone.”

Something heavy thudded in my chest at his words. My father’s coldness was unmatched, reminding me why we had become what we are—demons cloaked in shadow. He saw people as tools, and that had never surprised me. But for the first time in my life, hearing it made me uncomfortable.

“If that is your order, so be it,” I declared. My voice was calm and measured, but inside, something else was brewing.

“Darlon…” he called just as I reached the door. I turned back to face him. “Remember who we are, who you are. We dance with the shadows, burn for amusement, and wield the power of dark magic. This is your identity, and this is your kingdom. It’s for your throne that you must fight.”

I gave him a curt nod, turned, and walked out.