All My Broken Dreams: A Dark Academia Romance by Constance Kent

Author:Constance Kent [Kent, Constance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Writewood Creations Publishing
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“We killed a junkie, a thief,” Millicent said with measured calm. “We are Fuil Bratach. We had a right to defend our property.”

Alastair reached out to him. “Sit down, lad. It’s time you heard the whole story. I didn’t want to get you involved but now I have no choice. Robbie Listowel poses a threat to us all. We cannot have Harry’s sister wandering around Locksley Hall asking questions and causing a ruckus. She won’t find him.”

Deacon’s mouth dried. “Why?”

Alastair hesitated just ever so slightly. It wasn’t like him to sugar the truth.

“Because Harry is dead. We don’t know how–I swear on my life. His body was discovered at the base of the tower at Arran Castle. We believe he jumped.”

The older man let his hand drop to the table and he hunched forward, shoulders rounded, suddenly looking his age. His eyes were red as though he had been crying. If not for his uncle’s grief, Deacon would have marched to the nearest police station, Fuel Bratach be damned.

He held his place, his fist clenched, his chest rising and falling like a bellows. “How long ago?” His jaw was stiff.

“A month or more.”

He choked. “Was there an inquest? What has been done to notify his family?”

“Slow down, cousin,” Casey drawled. “We were all in shock when we found him. No one knew what to do. We’d never had a suicide before. Not with one of our own. The ramifications could have been tremendous if we reported it to the police. Frankly, Harry’s timing couldn’t have been worse.”

“His timing to take his life?” Deacon snarled. “How was his timing bad for you, Casey?”

Reginald’s voice cut through the air. “There are internal forces working against us within Locksley Hall. A faction of intellectuals and independents, believing themselves to be our equals, are challenging our authority. There have been murmurings of rebellion. Some faculty members disagree with our appointments and the direction we are taking the university. They wish to decouple the Hall from Fuil Bratach, no longer answering to us and operating at our direction.”

Alastair spoke calmly as he always did to his nephew, seeming to understand him better than anybody.

“The unfortunate incident, if it became known, would end our Order. A thousand year tradition would be snuffed out in one hour. It is unthinkable. You see now how Rowena Listowel is a problem.”

The Wake family banner hung high in the rafters of the great room. He came from an original family too. Dugald Croft was in his blood the same as any of the others. Probably more so, seeing as it was his people, the master stonemasons who built Locksley Hall and the Croft.

He felt the pull of blood from the moment he set foot on the cobbles. Too many years of being alone had made him too weak to resist. He was one with these blackened stones now.

For good or evil, the Black and Bannerman were the only family he had left. He’d not turn his back on them.

It was by pure dumb luck that she tracked him down.

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