Casting Shadows

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 (Declan's POV)

When I wake up, the first thing I do is check my cellphone. There is a text from Ruby, her asking me what happened to my father last night at the banquet. I quickly respond by saying how I have no idea. When we got home last night, he stormed up to his room and didn't come out.

There is a knock on my door, forcing me to make the effort to get out of my bed. I roll off the side of my mattress, nearly falling on my face as I land. After hauling myself to my feet, I make my way over to the door and open it.

"Hey, Declan. Your father wants to speak with you... now," Gabe Saporta, one of the servants, tells me. He is one of my good friends and has been working for my family for as long as I can remember. The way he relays the information to me tells me that whatever my dad wants, it's urgent.

"I'll go in a minute. I just have to change," I say.

Once he leaves, I close the door and get dressed. I change into a plain, black dress shirt, which is what I wear nearly every day, and head to my parent's room. My father usually wears all black too because he says that bright colors are unprofessional.

When I get to my parents room, the door is cracked open and I can hear my father ranting. He would probably get upset if he knew I was eavesdropping, but I'm too curious.

"Someone needs to tame the press," my father growls. "Of course, the front page says, 'Youngblood Leader Assassination Attempt.'" He begins to read the first line of the harsh paper. "Should we be putting our faith in a demon who cannot even protect himself? The Youngblood leader, Patrick Stump, should learn self-defense before trying to protect an entire district."

"Patrick, you need to relax," my mother says calmly.

"No, there's no time to relax," my father snaps. "They're right, this is the second time I've nearly been killed. I should have the castle's security doubled or get a bodyguard, except then I'll seem weak."

"Patrick, calm down. If doing all of that makes you more comfortable, then increase the security. It won't make you look weak."

"What if I'm assassinated?" my father says, sounding extremely concerned. "That would mean that this district would be left in the hands of our incompetent son. We should have another child. You know, keep trying until we get it right."

His words stab me in the heart, deeply wounding me. My blood begins to boil as a rush of anger pulses through my veins. I feel singled out, like an outlier in an imperfect society. My entire life I've worked to achieve the best I possibly can. I was first in my graduating class, beating an angel who came in second. Of course, when my father figured out that I almost came in second, only winning by two percentage points, he became upset with me because I didn't leave the angel in the dust.

"Patrick, he's our son. There's nothing wrong with him," my mother defends me.

"Oh come on, Elisa. He was a mistake. You know it just as well as I do."

The criticism becomes too much for me to take. He has no idea how hard I've worked to attempt to earn his approval. I push the door open, making my parents' heads turn. My mother's eyes go wide in concern, but my father just looks at me a stoically, sending me the message that he meant every word.

"Declan, how long have you been there?" my mother asks.

I don't respond to her, I only glare at my father, throwing daggers at him with my eyes. None of my previous emotional experiences can compare to the amount of hurt I feel as I look him in the eye.

"You called for me," I grit through my clenched teeth, trying to keep my temper under control.

"Yes, I did," my dad says in a serious tone. He doesn't sound one bit sorry or regretful. "Come in and close the door."