Phoenix Found (Brothers of Fire #5)

Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Oliver flicked through the blank pages of the passport. It all looked very official. While his birthday was the same, or at least that is the one he’d been told, he now had a surname, Martel, and also a place of birth. Not that he’d been born.

“It’s not fake if that’s what you’re wondering,” Lucian said.

When Dalmon handed him the folder, Oliver hadn’t known what to say. It wasn’t only a passport. There was a birth certificate and a printout that suggested he’d finished school, though he was sure he hadn’t. After the incident with the fire when he killed his teacher and the people who raised him, there hadn’t been any more school. He’d been hidden away for his own protection.

He hadn’t thought to ask why they wanted to protect him after what he’d done; instead, he’d been so grateful to have a home. But then he’d seen the Shadow Board as the good guys. As the ones trying to protect witches.

No doubt the people who raised him hadn’t expected to be killed, but then that was the price for knowing about him.

“I exist. This is the first time…” He put the passport back in side the folder. There were also documents about his various bank accounts and trusts and other things he didn’t understand. Dalmon said he needed to go in and see the bank to set up a signature and get a card. “I don’t know what to do with most of this stuff. I understand that it’s important, and without it, I can’t do anything. But I don’t know how to do anything.”

And living in the castle, he didn’t need to learn because there were people to do it for him. Even here on his estate, he didn’t have to buy food or cook. He didn’t go shopping because he could ask someone, and they’d bring him a selection to choose from the way Quentin had with the clothes.

“I wrote out some information. The first thing you need to do is go with Dal and set up the card so you can access your accounts and draw an allowance.”

“And that’s the payment from the trust every month?” He’d listened and tried to take it all in, but there was a lot. As soon as he felt stable, like he was starting to understand, there was a whole other level to learn, which made no sense.

Because of Quentin and Perrin, he understood how to use his phone and how to search the Internet. But that only helped if he knew what to search for, and he couldn’t spend all his time watching videos of baby goats bouncing around. And he didn’t need to learn how to look after them because he could hire someone.

“Correct. It’s quite confusing being dropped into the royal family. There’s all these rules and etiquette, and then I needed to learn French and how to deal with Dal’s staff. Stepping into the role of his PA at work was easy…the rest of it, not so much.”

Oliver gave him a small smile. Lucian at least understood how the real world operated while he was starting three steps behind. “What was it like giving up your magic? Do you miss it? Or is that something I shouldn’t ask?”

“I don’t miss it. I think if I’d been raised as a witch and been taught how to use my magic earlier, I might have been able to use it safely; as it was, I was coerced, and the man didn’t care about my safety. We both hoped the fated mates bond would iron out some of the problems with my magic use, but it didn’t. It made it worse because it made me more powerful.” Lucian pulled a chain out from beneath his shirt. From it hung a ruby ring. “Besides, I can still access the magic if I need to. It’s much smaller and safer, and it’s not pulling me in all directions.”

If Oliver couldn’t learn, he didn’t have the luxury of shoving his magic into a ring. He was still struggling with balancing shifting and lust, and while Perrin wasn’t complaining, his need for sex to burn off the heat would become tiresome, and he didn’t want Perrin to sigh and roll his eyes.

“Do you miss the bond?”

“Sometimes. But we don’t need the bond to still be fated mates.” Lucian tucked the necklace away. “Is everything okay? I heard a little rumor you’re dating someone.”

“It is what I have been told an open secret.”

Lucian laughed. “That means it hasn’t been formally announced. You will need to decide if you want Gerrit to formally announce you or if you’re quite happy to stay off the radar.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Gerrit announces you as his first-born and illegitimate child, then there will be media attention and questions. If he says nothing and you are seen around the place and people notice the resemblance because, let’s face it, there is one, there will be rumors. Sometimes, they let the rumors run, and other times, they like to cut them off. It’s not really going to matter until you’re more obviously around.” Lucian spoke as though all of this was obvious.

“I can’t even speak French yet. I don’t want to embarrass the family. ”

“If you read through all the documents, you’ll see that you’ve lived most of your life in England, so there was no reason for you to speak French. They didn’t change your life. They embellished it so there weren’t big gaps people might question.”

He had read through the documents. If there was one thing he did well and fast, it was read. According to the information, his mother was a tourist who’d had a fling with Gerrit. She’d returned home, not realizing she was pregnant. It was only when she’d gotten sick that she’d told Oliver who his father was. She’d never returned to Mont de Leucoy because she didn’t think anyone would believe her. She wasn’t sure herself that Gerrit was his father. Oliver had wanted to find out, and a DNA test had confirmed that he was indeed Gerrit’s son. Gerrit didn’t remember the fling—it was one of many the castle kept under wraps—Oliver had no idea if Gerrit did flings before he got married or if that was part of the lie. He’d already been ruling the country and a father by the time he was Oliver’s age.

“Did you help with the creation?” It was a good story. No need to find a fake mother for him. He’d just popped into existence.

“A little.” Lucian gave him a crooked smile.

“You know me better than I do.” What kind of life would he have given himself? Would he have stuck closer to the truth with his adoptive parents dying in a house fire?

“I know the you who exists on those papers.”

That was more than Oliver knew about himself.

“You realize you can do anything, right? You can go back to school. You can join the Coven or National Security. You only need to speak with Dal or Kaine.”

“Why not Gerrit?” He was the king .

“Because he deals with the running of the country, Dal and Kaine deal with other issues.”

“Not Everest?”

Lucian shook his head. “Everest is the Crown Prince, but at the moment, he has no other function aside from learning how to take over once he has recovered.”

Oliver bit his lip. It was because of him Everest needed to recover. “I don’t know what I want to do. But since I have a passport, does that mean I can travel?” Perrin talked of traveling and seeing some of the world because all he knew was Monte de Leucoy, which was still a lot more than him. Would he want company?

“You can, though they will insist on sending security with you. I can’t go anywhere without security.”

“You’re marrying Dalmon.”

Lucian sighed. “Yes, and that promises to be a complete circus.”

“A circus?”

“You’ve never been to a wedding, and this one is going to be super fancy. There will be royals from all over Europe and dignitaries and other important people. It’s a lot when I go to functions and fundraisers and other things with Dal. I’ve gone to more black-tie events in the last couple of months and clocked more travel miles than I thought possible. I didn’t realize quite what I was getting into… I’m still figuring it out.”

“What would you do in my situation?” Quentin was of the opinion that he should try everything, though with the caveat that he told someone what he intended because he still needed to be safe. And he now saw exactly how quickly he could become unsafe.

“I don’t know because I’m not you. From my recent experience, being overwhelmed doesn’t help, so take small bites. And that if something isn’t working, speak up. But you can figure out what you want to do, and if that takes you twenty years, then so be it. It’s not like you need to figure out where your next meal is coming from.”

That seemed so aimless and pointless. What he needed was a quest. The heroes in the books he liked always had a quest or a job to do. “Everyone else is working.”

“Everyone else didn’t grow up locked in a room with only books for company.”

“True.”

“Making this place livable is a job,” Lucian said, trying to help. He’d been dropped into this world and had found a way to exist. Quentin, on the other hand, seemed to have been born for it. He delighted in swimming through centuries of history and exploring the castle.

Oliver sighed and stared out the window into the dusk. Dalmon and Perrin should be back soon. “Not my job. I have staff for that.”

Sure, they presented ideas to him, but all he needed to do was say yes or no or come up with something new. And even though Perrin involved him, the only time he felt as though he was contributing was when he had a shovel and his hand.

Because the ruined greenhouse was his project, he’d been shoveling out all the excess dirt and pulling out the glass and pots and long rusted watering cans and such. If his past self saw the state of the house, would he be sad? Or shrug and blame the passing of time?

He’d found a painting that he must’ve done, a watercolor of the greenhouse in a sketchbook that he assumed was his. Dalmon had given him a list of his previous names so that it was easier for him to tell what was his and what belonged to past lovers.

He glanced back at Lucian. “You have skills and a job, and you slotted into your fated mate’s life. Meanwhile, I have nothing, and my boyfriend is supposed to be marrying a woman.”

“But he’s not.”

“Which is a whole other problem.” That Perrin’s father had attacked him for wanting to live his own life was ridiculous; that he had lost his job and was being forced to leave the castle might cause more problems, but there was no way around that as the castle didn’t want to be seen supporting violence and arranged marriages. If they lived in a book, they’d run away together and start over.

But he was a phoenix, and given that he’d only just been found, he wasn’t sure he was ready to accidentally become lost again. Nor did he want to put his brothers through that because while he’d forget, they would not.

Yet they’d all forgotten about the sixth brother. The one who’d disappeared with Lucian the first time he and Dalmon had met. And as tempting as it was to ask the no-longer-a-witch in front of him, there was no point. No, he needed to ask Dalmon.

“It’s not your problem, though. Are you enjoying spending time with the ghoul?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “His name is Perrin. And I have learned all about ghouls. I even saw him feed the other night.” I’m not some innocent idiot. “Do you not like ghouls?”

“I’ve never met one. I’ve only read about them as the Coven employees some for cleanup operations.” He frowned. “No one wants to see you get hurt.”

“Perhaps you’d all be happier if you locked me in a room with a pile of books so I stayed nice and safe?” His words were sharp and hit home.

Lucian winced and looked away. “That’s not what anyone wants.”

“Then stop acting as though I’m running into danger without looking where I’m going. I am looking, and I’m not running. I’m aware of how much knowledge I’m missing.” Though only because there were vast gaps, and as soon as he filled one gap, several more appeared.

Watching TV with Perrin in the evenings showed him some of what was missing. The cities were filled with cars and public transport, bridges and planes and so many humans who didn’t know that there were shifters and witches among them. He watched the news, and even though his childhood had been unusual, it had not been cruel, and he hadn’t suffered. And he hadn’t known any different. There were people who had it much worse.

“Everyone wants to help you, but none of us knows how to do that unless you tell us.”

“And I don’t have an answer because that’s part of what I’m missing. If I knew what I wanted to do with my life, then I could ask for help on how to achieve it. But I don’t, and part of that is because I don’t know what’s out there. Maybe that’s all I want for the moment to see what’s out there. And I know how that sounds given that I have only just arrived, but living within the castle walls, or within my estate walls, it’s just a bigger bedroom. And instead of choosing what book to read next, I am approving the shopping list and menu for next week or the color that the dining room is going to be painted. My choices are still laid out for me.”

Kissing Perrin was the only choice he’d made.

“Do you think I wake up and have free rein over my life?”

Oliver shrugged. He didn’t know what anybody else’s life was like. How could he when the only thing he’d ever done was read books and imagine another world? It had been easy to follow someone else’s adventure instead of allowing himself to think about the adventures he wasn’t having.

“Accepting Dal as my fated mate took away one set of choices and created a new set. Surrendering my magic did the same. Working for the Coven as his PA… It means I am expected to be in the office and with him. I can’t wake up and decide I’m not going to work today.” Lucian sighed and leaned back. “It’s not your choices that are the problem; it’s that there are a hundred different pots, and each one has a different selection of choices, and you don’t know which pot to pick. Once you pick a pot, the others are no longer available. However, there will then be another selection you are expected to choose from.”

Oliver frowned as he considered the pots of choices. “In the bedroom, there was only one pot, which book to read.”

“Correct. Now you have castle pot, estate pot, travel pot, university pot, and more that you can’t name because you haven’t found them yet. And each one has different problems and different choices, and, like everyone else on the planet, you’re worried about picking the wrong pot. There you go. You’re not that special or unique because everyone worries about picking the wrong pot.”

“Then what do you do?”

“Pick again. And again, until you like what you’ve selected. And you’re going to pick wrong. Lots of times. And there’ll be things you wish you’d done differently. And things that you never want to do again. But that’s life.”

“So pick a pot and see what happens? That’s your advice?”

“And don’t forget that you can always choose again. That said, some choices make a bigger mess than others, so I don’t recommend flying over populated areas. Cover-ups are getting harder and harder.” Lucian tapped the folder. “Creating this wasn’t easy. Government records needed to be hacked and such.”

“Paranormals need to come out.” Now he sounded like he belonged on the Shadow Board .

“They do, and the Coven and the castle will start planning after the wedding. You can be involved with planning the coming out. You are, of course, invited to the wedding. Invitations will be going out soon.”

To help plan a paranormal coming out, he needed to experience the world. Maybe that was the first big choice he needed to make. In his heart, he’d already made it. All he needed to do was ask if Perrin wanted him there. That was the question he was afraid of asking.