The air cooled even further, and rain fell softly around us, landing in thick, fat droplets that pattered against the sand.
“You see the waves?” Rhyan angled his body, offering me an easy view of the Lumerian Ocean. “The waves,” he said again, his voice a whisper. His arms shifted and tightened against me. “Just watch the waves, rolling back and forth. Back and forth. Nice and easy. Just keep watching. I’ve got you. You’re all right.” He nuzzled my cheek. “Mekara.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t call me that last time.” The raindrops pebbled against my forehead, falling into my eyes until my vision blurred. “And it wasn’t raining.” I remembered that night all those months ago so clearly. It had been cooler than it had been in weeks, marking the start of the fall season. We were celebrating Days of Shadows. Waves had been crashing against the shore. And after two years of silence, I’d broken my blood oath. I’d told Rhyan the secret I was prepared to die for. I’d told him about Meera’s vorakh. A storm had been brewing in the distance, making the waves crash, agitating our seraphim. But it hadn’t been raining. Not like this—not when we’d been here together. Alone.
Rhyan shrugged, continuing to hold me and stare into the dark of the water. “Does it really matter? We can make the memory whatever we want.”
“Yes,” I protested. “It does. We can’t just change them. My memories of you matter.”
“The past hasn’t gone anywhere.”
“No,” I cried, a sinking feeling in my heart. “But you have. Don’t do this. Don’t change the memories. They’re all I have now. All I—” There was another more visceral memory, the memory of what had just happened. The thing that could not be changed, could not be undone. I had a strange feeling—a sensation filled with the horror of it all—as reality crashed into me, forcing me to remember. It was breaking the spell on us. “No. No.”
“What is it?” Rhyan asked. “Partner? What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Memories are not enough. We were supposed to have more time together. We were supposed to have decades, years. We were supposed to make more memories. Do more things. We were supposed to?—”
Marry me.
I sobbed. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be between us. It’s not right. And it’s not …” I was choking on my words, my chest heaving. “It’s not enough. Rhyan, this will never be enough. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. I only want you. You. Here. Now.”
“I am here, Lyr, I’m right here.” His eyes dipped to my chest. To my heart. “There. And I’m here. Holding you.”
“No … Rhyan! You’re … You’re not here.” I tightened my grip on him, shaking my head wildly, the tears were burning my eyes. “You’re not with me. I tried. I tried so hard. But I couldn’t find you.”
A raindrop fell onto his forehead, slipping down the length of his scar. Slowly, it descended down his cheek. “Lyriana,” he said, his voice full of emotion. And then his eyes dampened, tears welling and running down his face.
“Rhyan!” I sobbed. “Where are you? Where did you go? Tell me where to find you! Tell me how to help you. Heal you. Save you.” I pushed myself out of his arms, until I was standing before him, grabbing and shaking his shoulders. “Tell me! ”
His gaze hardened, his lips tightening, as his already pale skin seemed to whiten. “Oh, Lyr. My Lyriana. I didn’t want it to be true. Not yet. But I’m not here.” Something shone in his eyes. Like his own memories had returned. “And I’m not … I’m not all right. I’m … I’m somewhere else now. Something else.” The muscles in his jaw flexed, and he looked away, his gaze refusing to meet mine. The scar that ran through his left eyebrow darkened, lengthening down his cheek. It was angrier and redder than I’d ever seen it. As if his father had just freshly carved it into his skin.
He had done that though. That was exactly what he’d done tonight to Rhyan—and worse. He’d turned him over to the Emperor. Carved into him. Hurt him. Tortured him.
Stripped him of his magic. His power.
There was a flash of blinding light. A scream of pure, unbridled pain. The sound of a whip flying in the air. The whoosh of a Valalumir star soaring.
I stilled. The memories. The truth. They were returning with more force. We didn’t have much time left.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “Partner, just ignore them. Forget them all. Don’t listen. Don’t look. Just stay here with me.”
“I can’t. I have to save you,” I cried.
I reached for Rhyan’s face, and traced the scar from his dark eyebrow down to his cheek, feeling him shiver beneath my touch. I reached the edge of the scar, the edge of the line I knew so well because I’d traced it with my fingers a hundred times. Because I’d kissed it just as many when we were together. But the scar didn’t end where it was supposed to—tapering off to clear, pale skin. It ran all the way across his cheek, expanding, and lengthening, reaching for his earlobe, and slithering toward the line of his jaw. My eyes widened as even more red lines began to appear, crisscrossing his face, circling aroundhis neck. His eyes were on mine, blazing and green as emeralds, his chest heaving.
His aura swept over me. But it felt foreign. Not like his, not like anything I’d ever felt from him before. Rhyan’s aura had always been like a soothing cold, the peace of being tucked safely into your bed on a snowy night. He was fresh air when I needed a breath, water when I was overheated from exertion. And always, always my anchor in the storm.
But the aura I felt now was icy, and violent. And above all else, dripping with a nauseating fear.
In the distance, the waters of the Lumerian Ocean began to recede further and further from the shore, exposing more and more rock and sand beneath it.
Rhyan watched calmly as the water surged towards the horizon, its waves rising higher, reaching for the night sky. Thunder clapped and I could feel the waves preparing to break, preparing to rush at us. There was enough power brewing now, enough magic in the air for me to realize exactly what was coming.
A tsunami. One that wouldn’t just cover the island, or Bamaria. It would be enough to drown us all. To sink the whole Empire.
A second Drowning.
“Rhyan,” I said, taking his hand, our fingers threaded together. “We have to go! We have to get out of here.” But my voice sounded distant and far away, barely audible over the roaring tides. “The storm is coming. Now. Hurry! ”
