Fenturi Fate (Spacestalker Saga Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

his father.
    Though never formally acknowledged by the king, Ren wore the man’s features indelibly upon his face, much to his shame. O ne and all knew of his parentage, but such was never mentioned. Zedrax publicly disdained his bastard son, making i t clear that Ren should receive no special treatment or favor.
    Ren had more often than not received harder training and punishment, and had grown stronger and more unforgiving because of it. Impressively, he had resisted all efforts to bind him low and rose steadily through the ranks, his strength and quickness of mind his savior.
    He’d worked alone with only the occasional encouragement of his half-brother, the royal prince, to buoy him. Had he let the boy, Zebram would have been all over him, bouncing around, demanding attention from the big brother he idolized.
    Unlike King Zedrax, Prince Zebram had grown to be a loving and caring young man. Perhaps the affection of his mother, Queen Leash, or the young playmates he often sought refuge with had made him so open to light and happiness. Ren had long since given up trying to know his brother better. The king had discouraged any closeness between them save duty bound loyalty, and Ren agreed. The less time he spent near the royal family, the better.  
    But Ren had never been able to squelch the small hunger for acceptance from those of his blood. Not back even a passing moon and I’m maudlin. He cursed his inability to stop feeling so damn much and shelved thoughts of the past. Garen was Captain of the Stalkers. As such, he had no room in his life for weakness, only for strength, that he might fulfill his duties and protect the kingdom.
    He acknowledged the nods sent his way and continued toward the palace courtyard. It had been over two years since he had last visited, and his steps slowed as the dread coursing through his veins increased. He masked his unease with a warrior’s bearing and stoic countenance. Never show the enemy your vulnerabilities , he reminded himself.
    And he did consider those in the palace his enemies.
    He walked up the blue-veined marble steps into the great hallway of the palace, aware of the renowned Bylaran architecture, the sheer space around the columns and detailed archways in the palace. Such finery he’d never been afforded. But what use had warriors for marble and palatial estates?
    The guards bowed their heads as he passed, in deference more for the warrior he had become than the bastard son of the king, he imagined. He wondered what the king thought of h their respect, if he’d even noticed.
    Zedrax had made sure Ren was treated as just another Bylaran boy in his ranks. He had shown no favoritism or softness toward his eldest son and had expected his soldiers to chew Ren up and spit him out like the rest of the green recruits.
    But Ren had stunned everyone, himself most of all. Imagine his surprise to find he liked soldiering. He appreciated the sheer physicality of his job, the ingrained order to protect others and defend the kingdom, and most of all, he’d cherished the command structure set in place for all. In a world where he’d had little control of anything, least of all his birth, the military had made perfect sense. Hard work earned reward; idle hands were not tolerated.
    Among fellow soldiers, he could blend. Not like now, as he passed through the banner hall where large depictions of Vinopol ancestry dated back before the Bylaran colonization three hundred years past. His heritage, never to be acknowledged. Not by the king or himself. Ren refused to see the beauty of the rich tapestries lying so elegantly upon the stone walls.
    He hated having to come here. Zedrax had most likely ordered Zebram to summon him. A final insult to Ren, to twist old wounds before the cursed king moved into the beyond. Zedrax was a wily man, and age had only sharpened his wits. No doubt he knew that had he requested Ren’s presence in the palace, Ren would have refused outright. But a request