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   Chapter 66 No.66

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5306

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

'Because it was none of your concern' Arlen spoke slowly to the wall.

'None of my concern?' Farrell repeated. His blood began to rise. He balled his fists. 'She is my daughter.'

'Is she?'

Arlen turned to face him. His expression was dark. His eyes full of hatred.

'I spent one last night with Ramana, the night before you married her, and exactly nine months later she has a child.'

The corner of Farrell's eye twitched.

'Did you make love to her on the night you were married?' Arlen asked his brother.


'Then either one of us could be Amaia's father.'

Farrell had suspected as much. The possibility had always been obvious to him, resting at the back of his mind. He had known Ramana had loved Arlen before she had loved him, and he had suspected Arlen might be the father based on how he behaved, the way he always watched from a distance as Amaia grew. He had always known, but to have the fact spoken so openly……it felt almost like a betrayal.

'She is my daughter' Farrell said harshly. 'I cared for her……raised her.'

'You failed her.'

'I did everything I could!'

'No' Arlen said shortly. 'You didn't.'

'Well if you know already where she is, why haven't you found her already?'

Arlen's eyes flashed.

He punched Farrell hard right in the face. Farrell fell back, caught by surprise.

Arlen grabbed Farrell by the shirt, shaking him and snarling like a wild beast.

'You think if I could save her I would have done so by now?' he growled. 'You think I've just been wasting all these years? While you drank and let your life fall to ruins all around you, simply assuming she was dead….I never stopped looking….not in twelve years!' he drew a long cruel knife from his belt, raising it above his head with the point facing his broth. 'NOT IN TWELVE YEARS DID I STOP!'

Farrell saw the flash of steel, blocking the attack just in time. His arm shook as he struggled to push back the blade. He drew his head back, head butting Arlen hard. Arlen stumbled back, holding his bleeding nose. Farrell grabbed the nearest thing at hand which happened to be a chair, swinging it as hard as he could towards Arlen, and knocking him off balance.

Arlen dropped the knife.

Farrell threw a punch towards Arlen, but Arlen caught his fist. In one quick move Arlen threw Farrell to the floor, kneeling beside him and cracking his arm over his knees. Farrell screamed in pain as his arm snapped. He grabbed onto Arlen, stopping his fist in the air as he made to hit him again.

Farrell's cries however had drawn attention, and seconds later, Shawn burst into the room.

'Arlen!' he called out in shoc

k, grabbing him and pulling him off Farrell.

But Arlen was stronger than him, and Shawn could not hold him back for long.

Farrell crawled away from his brother, using the distraction that Shawn had given him; he rose to his feet, facing Arlen again. Arlen had managed to break free of Shawn's hold, and Shawn had quickly vanished, back through the door to get help.

Farrell charged forwards, lunging for the knife Arlen had dropped. But before Farrell could grab the knife, Arlen had reached for the nearest thing at hand, a medium sized statue of the goddess Ludus, made of solid stone. Arlen swung the statue, hitting Farrell hard across the head. Farrell was knocked to the side. He fell, dazed as his mind wavered, he fought to stay conscious, suddenly unaware of anything around him as the pain in his head blinded him to all else.

He felt his shoulder being jerked as he was rolled onto his back.

Arlen knelt over him, sitting on his chest and breathing fast, his chest rising and falling quickly from pure rage and hatred as he stared down at Farrell.

He gritted his teeth, raising shaking hands towards Farrell.

He grabbed his throat, and began to squeeze.

Farrell's eyes widened as he realised was his brother was doing.

Arlen tightened his grip further, his wild eyes wide and crazed as he stared unmoved down at his brother as he began to struggle. Arlen felt nothing inside him as he watched his brother's life slipping away, nothing, but determination.

Farrell fought hard to stay alive. He grabbed his brother's hands, trying to free them from his throat, and ignoring the burning agony shooting though his broken arm. Farrell thought he was going to die, he was sure of it. But then suddenly Arlen was being pulled back off him. Neither brother had noticed the door slamming open again and the bodies pouring in, so fixed was each on the other.

Arlen fought against the hands that pulled him back, calling out in defiance as the many soldiers pulled him away from Farrell as Farrell immediately rolled onto his side, coughing and gasping violently.


Farrell glanced up at him. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments as Arlen was dragged from the room by the men, and for the briefest of moments, Farrell saw the devil himself in his eyes. It was pure loathing. Hate had destroyed his brother, had created him into this monster. The man, who had once risked his life for him, now wanted him dead.

It frightened him.

It frightened him to see Arlen so different, so corrupt……so full of hatred.

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