“A traitor?” he asks with his arms crossed. “To whom exactly?”
“Our Overlord. Your son,” she hisses and tries to push past him, but he is a giant of a man and so much stronger than she is.
“I have more than one son, my dear, and you are currently treating one of them very badly,” he says, gripping her arm tightly.
“Then you should convince him to do the right thing,” Xanthe says, straightening her back and showing no weakness. “Either that or go and undo the magick holding him in place.” She is smug, as that is not an option.
“You know that I cannot undo the magick you have cast,” he snarls at her. “This is unacceptable, Xanthe.”
“I don’t think so,” she says. “My loyalty lies with our Overlord, as should yours. He and Xerxei belong together.”
“At the expense of Xander?” he asks quietly.
“Convince him to reverse the spell,” Xanthe says just as quietly. “I take no pleasure in his pain, but he is as stubborn as you are.”
Xerxes smiles at her. “Me?” he asks. “You are just as obstinate, my love.”
“Then you know I will never give up on this. Convince him to do the right thing,” Xanthe replies.
“Maybe this was meant to happen?” Xerxes says. “Maybe this is Fate.”
“Why would you say that?” Xanthe cries. “Xane is Overlord, the Queen belongs with him so that together they can achieve greatness. Xander is an unwitting pawn in a game that he doesn’t understand and that has nothing to do with Fate. Remiel caused this for his own ends.”
“And yet you played right into his hands when you took the vial from him that would take away Xerxei’s Vampire,” Xerxes reminds her.
“And then she got pregnant with our grandchild,” Xanthe snaps at him. “And now I know who it was that cursed her.”
Xerxes attitude changes instantly. He loses his aggressive stance and peers at her. “You used black magick?” he asks.
“I had no choice,” Xanthe says stiffly. “Someone around here has to be the one to get things done.”
“Xanthe,” he says softly and reaches for her. “This path you are going down. Your obsession is overwhelming you…”
“My love for my son is not an obsession,” she says.
“Xanthe,” he says, but she shakes her head, steadfast.
“You want to help Xander, convince him to give up the mark. I need to see Xane and tell him what I have learned.”
“Who?” Xerxes steps forward as she pulls free and hurries off to her son’s office. “Xanthe!”
Xanthe waves her hand at him. She is telling no one until she has told Xane. As she pushes open the door to Xane’s office, she sees him slumped behind his desk.
“Xane,” she says, and he looks up at her.
“What?” he croaks out. “Have you talked Xander into giving me back my mark?”
“No, I–,” she starts but he interrupts her.
“Then I’m not interested,” he says flatly.
Xanthe moves closer to him. He is completely despondent, but this news will light his fire again. She hates lying to him, but he was the one who said that Xerxei would be with him now if they’d had this child. She has to ensure that this ruse continues. It is for his own good.
“I know who cursed your wife,” she says, and his eyes snap straight to hers.
“Who?” he shouts, jumping up out of his chair. “Who?” He thumps his fist on the desk, sending his papers scattering.
“Before I tell you, I need you to try and remain calm, my son,” she says, merely as a warning for him not to lose his head. But she knows he will, she already has her magick coiled to get out of here.